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COMPLETE WORKS

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THOMAS DICK, LL.D.:

ELEVEN VOLUMES IN TWO.

VOLUME ONE, CONTAINING:

f, AN ESSAY ON THE IMPROVEMENT OF

SOCIETY.
11. THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.
Ill THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

rV. THE MENTAL ILLUMINATION AND MC
RAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

V. AN ESSAY ON THE SIN AND EMI fl OF
COVETOUSNESS.

VOLUME TWO, CONTAINING

I. THE CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHER ; OR, SCI-
ENCE AND RELIGION.
'I CELESTIAL SCENERY— ILLUSTRATED.
ai. SIDEREAL HEAVENS, PLANETS, ETC.

IV. THE PRACTICAL ASTRONOMER.

V. THE SOLAR SYSTEM— ITS WONDER6.

VI. THE ATMOSPHERE, AND ATMOSPHERICAL

PHENOMENA.

ILLUSTRATED WITH ENGRAVINGS.
AND A PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR

VOL. I.

CINCINNATI:
APPLEGATE & CO., PUBLISHERS,

NO. 43 MAIN STREET.
1856.

ON THE

IMPROVEMENT OF SOCIETY

DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE:

AN ILLUSTRATION

ADVANTAGES WHICH WOULD RESULT FROM A MORE GENERAL DISSEMINA-
TION OF RATIONAL AND SCIENTIFIC INFORMATION AMONG ALL RANKS.

ILLUSTRATED \TITH ENGRAVINGS.

(3)

PREFACE.

The plan and outlines of the following work were sketched, and a considerabla
portion of it composed, about eighteen years ago. It was advertised, as preparing
for the press, in 1823, when the author published the first edition of " The Christian
Philosopher;" but various other engagements prevented its appearance at that period
The Introduction and the first two sections were published in a respectable quarterly
journal in the year 1816; but they are now considerably modified and enlarged. This
circumstance will account for the date of some of the illustrative facts to which refer-
ence is made in the first part of the volume, and in several portions of the Appendix.

Had the present work been published at any of the periods now referred to, the
subject it discusses, and some of the illustrations, would have presented a more novel
aspect than they can lay claim to at the present time, when the diff'usion of knowledge
has become an object of general attention. The author, however, is not aware that
any work embracing so full an illustration of the same topics has yet made its appear-
ance; and is, therefore, disposed to indulge the hope, that, in conjunction with the
present movements of society, it may, in some degree, tend to stimulate those exer-
tions which are now making for the melioration and mental improvement of mankind.
Independently of the general bearing of the facts and illustrations on the several
topiea they are intended to elucidate, the author trusts that not a few fragments of
useful knowledge wUl be found incorporated in the following pages, calculated to
entertain and instruct the general reader.

In the numerous illustrations brought forward in this volume, it was found impos-
sible altogether to avoid a recurrence to certain facts which the author had partially
adverted to in some of his former publications, without interrupting the train of
thought, and rendering his illustrations partial and incomplete. But, where the same
facts are introduced, they are generally brought forward to elucidate a different topic.
Any statements or descriptions of this kind, however, which may have the appearance
of repetition, could all be comprised within the compass of three or four pages.

The general subject of the present work will be prosecuted in another volume, to
be entitled " The Mental Illumination of Mankind, or an inquiry into the means by
which a general difi"usion of knowledge may be promoted." This work wiU embrace —
along with a great variety of other topics — an examination of the present system of
education, showing its futility and inefiieieney, and illustrating the principles and
details of an efiicient intellectual system, capable of universal application; together
with a variety of suggestions in relation to the physical, moral, and intellectual im-
provement of society.

To his numerous correspondents who have been inquiring after the work, " The
Scenery of the Heavens Displayed, with the view of illustrating the doctrine of a
Plurality. of Worlds,^'' which was announced at page 68 of the "Philosophy of a
Future State," — the author begs respectfully to state, that, if health permit, he intends
to proceed, without delay, to the completion of that work, as soon as the volume an-
nouQced above is ready for th§ press. It will form a volume of considerable size,
and will be illustrated with a great number of engravings, many of which will be
original.

Broughty Fen% near Dundee,

CONTENTS.

Paoi.

Introduction —Retrospective view of the state of mankind — ignorance of the dark ages —
revival of learning at the Reformation. Present intellectual state of the human race.
Causes which have retarded the progress of the human mind. A more general diffusion
of knowledge desirable. Preludes which indicate the approach of the era of intelligence 11

SECTION I.

INFLCKNCE OF KNOWLEDGE IN DISSIPATING SUPERSTITIOCS NOTIONS AND VAIN FEARS.

Objects and circumstances which ignorance has arrayed with imaginary terrors — eclipses,
comets, aurora borealis, &c. Absurdity of astrology. Belief attached to its doctrines.
Various prevalent superstitious opinions — omens — witches — specters, &c. Proof of such
notions still prevailing. Superstitions indulged by men of rank and learning. Baneful
tendency of superstition — leads to deeds of cruelty and injustice. How knowledge would
undermine superstition and its usual accompaniments — illustrated at large. Animadversion
on Dr. S. Johnson, &c 13

SECTION II .

ON THE UTILITY OF KNOWLEDGE IN PREVENTING DISEASES AND FATAL ACCIDENTS.

Accidents which have happened from ignorance of the properties of the different gases, and
the means of preventing them. Disasters which have happened in coal mines. Figure
of Davt/s Safety Lamp, with description and remarks. Accidents caused by the stroke
of lightning. Precautions requisite to be attended to during thunder-storms. Accidents
from ignorance of the principles of mechanics. Reasons of such accidents explained by a
figure. Fatal accidents caused from ignorance of the effects produced by the refraction of
light — illustrated by figures and experiments. Accidents from the clothes of females
catching fire, and the means of prevention. Various diseases propagated from ignorance
of their nature. Pernicious effects of contaminated air. Improper mode of treating
children during infancy, and its fatal effects. Importance of temperance. General
remarks 21

SECTION III.

ON THE INFLUENCE WHICH A DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE WOULD HAVE ON THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.

Science founded on facts. Every person is endowed with faculties for /userving facts.
Anecdote of Sir I. Newton. Extraordinary powers of intellect not necessary for making
discoveries in science. Ample field of investigation still remains. Discoveries would
be nearly in proportion to the number of observers. Various illustrations of these positions.
Geology, its multifarious objects and desiderata. Natural History, how it may be improved,
and its range extended. Meteorology, imperfection of our knowledge in regard to many
of its objects, — thunder storms, aurora borealis, meteoric stones, &c. Astronomy, deside-
rata in reference to, which remain to be ascertained. Illustration taken from Jupiter,
with four different views of this planet. Venus, mode by which the time of its rotation
may be determined — illustrated by a figure. Comets, fixed stars. — Moon, plan by which
our knowledge of the scenery of this globe may be extended. Discoveries which have
been made in the heavens by accident. Prospects presented when knowledge shall be
more generally diffused. Chemistry, its objects, and the means of its improvement.
Futility of framing hypotheses — importance of observing facts — general remarks and
reflections 38

SECTION IV.

ON THE PLEASURES CONNECPED WITH THE PURSUITS OF SCIENCE.

Pleasures of cense and of intellect. The enjoyments of the ignorant and of the man of
intelligence contrasted, and particularly illustrated. Pleasure annexed to the gratification

Viii CONTENTS.

of the piinciple of curiosity. Scientifc facts illustrative of fids suhject. — Number of effecte
produced by a single principlo in nature. Surprising resemblances in operations where
we should least of all have expected them. Grand and sublime objects which science
presents before us. Varietij of novel and interesting objects it exhibits. Illustrated from
mechanics, liydrostatics, magnetism, optics, chemistry, &,c. Instruments connected with
optics. Figure of the Aerial Telescope. Pleasure in tracing the steps by which dis-
coveries have been made, and the experiments by which they are illustrated. Beneficial
tendency of scientific pursuits on the heart, and on social and domestic enjoyment. Mis-
cellaneous reflections and remarks 38

SECTION V.

ON THE PRACTICAL LNFLUENCE OF SCIENTIFIC KNOWLEDGE, AND ITS TENDENCY TO PROMOTE
THE COMFORTS OF GENERAL SOCIETY.

I. A knowledge of science would render mechanics, &c. more skillful in their respective
employments — illustrated from the arts of dyeing, calico printing, bleaching, brewing,
tanning, agriculture, &c. Chemistry essentially requisite to surgeons and apothecarieB.
Utility of practical Geometry, illustrated by a diagram. Utility of Mechanics. Of Hydro-
statics and Hydraulics, illustrated with various figures. Hydrostatical paradox, mode of
conveying water, hydrostatical press, perpendicular pressure of water, and the accidents
it may occasion. Application of these facts to engineering and hydraulic operations.
Disaster occasioned by want of attention to hydrostatic principles. Practical utility of
Pneumatics — anecdote illustrative of. Mode of curing smoky chimneys, illustrated by
figures. Utility of an acquaintance with Optics. Explanation of the nature of a
telescope, and the mode of its construction. Mode of constructing a compound micro-
scope, with illustrative figures. Burning lenses. Sir D. Brewster's Polyzonal Lens,
reflecting concave mirrors for light-houses, &c., with illustrative figures. Utility of
Electricity and Galvanism. Mode of directing lightning as a mechanical power.
Practical applications of Magnetism, and late discoveries in — Magnetized masks, &c.
Practical utility of Geology. Utility of Natural History. Application of steam — steam
navigation — steam carriages. Carbureted hydrogen gas. Utility of science to day-
laborers, housekeepers, kitchen-maids, &c. Instance illustrative of the advantages of
chemical knowledge 18

II. Scientific knowledge would pave the icay for future inventions and improvements in the arts.
Circumstances which led to the invention and subsequent improvement of the telescope,
with a figure of the first telescope. Frauuhofer's telescope — Guinand's experiments on
the composition of flint glass — Description of an achromatic object-glass, with a figure, &c.
Historical sketches of certain inventions — steam engine — mariner's compass — galvanic
principle — pendulum clocks — watches — air-pump — spinning jennies — safety lamp, &c.
Few inventions owing to chance. Cautions to be attended to in the construction and use
of the safety lamp. Mechanics have a greater chance of becoming inventors than mere
philosophers. Prospects of improvement in future ages 62

III. 77(6 external comforts of mankind promoted by intelligence and iinprovements in the arts.
Contrast between the past and present aspect of the social state. Wretched accommoda-
tions which still exist among the lower classes. Mental improvement would lead to diligence
and economy, to cleanliness in person, clothes, and furniture — to tasteful decorations of
horises and garden-plots — improvements in foot-paths, narrow lanes, villages, &c 66

SECTION VI.

ON THE INFLUENCE OF KNOWLEDGE IN PROMOTING ENLARGED CONCEPTIONS OF THE CH.VRACTER
AND PERFECTIONS OF THE DEITY.

Groveling conceptions of the Deity both in heathen and Christian countries. Just con-
ceptions of the Divinity acquired from his external manifestations. Ignorance exhibits
distorted views of the Divine character. Attributes of the Deity which science illustrates :
1. The unity of God. 2. Wisdom of the Deity — manifested in the various arrangements
of sublunary nature. Particular illustration. 3. Benevolence of the Deity — manifested in
the parts of the human frame, and in the surrounding elements — muscles of the eye (illus-
trated with figures) — gratification afforded to our different senses. Remedies against the
evils to which we are exposed. Multitudes of animated beings, and the ample provision
made for them. Calculations in relation to the number of certain species of birds, and
the velocity with which they fly. Number of species of plants eaten by different animals.
4 Science exhibits a view of the multiplicity of conceptions which have been formed in (ht

CONTENTS. ix

Divine mind. Exemplified in the different construction and functions of the various
species of animals — in the numerous parts which enter into the construction of an animal
frame. Lyonet's description of the numerous parts of the cossus caterpillar. Multiplicity
of ideas manifested in the Vegetable kingdom. Varieties in the Mineral kingdom. Varieties
in Microscopical objects — scales of fisjiesf feathers of birds, wings of flies, leaves and
transverse sections of plants, &c. Numbers and varieties of animalculse. Immensity of
nature. Description of the engravings of microscopic objects. Variety in the external
aspect of nature — in the sun, planets, comets, and on the surface of the moon. 5. Sci-
ence expands our conceptions of the power of the Deity, and of the magnificence of his empire.
Such views of Deity in unison with the dictates of revelation, — and calculated to produce
many beneficial effects on the understandings and affections of mankind 68

SECTION VII.

ON THE BENEFICIAL EFFECTS OF KNOWLEDGE ON MORAL PRINCIPLE AND CONDUCP.

Introductory remarks — knowledge and moral action inseparably connected. Ignorance one
principal cause of immorality and crime. Knowledge requisite for ascertaining the true
principles of moral action. It leads to inquiries into the reasons of moral laws, and the
foundations on which they rest, — to self-examination and self-inspection, — and to a com-
prehensive view of the bearings and consequences of moral actions. Miscellaneous
remarks, and objections answered ^

SECTION VIII.

ON THE UTILITY OF KNOWLEDGE IN RELATION TO A FUTURE WORLD.

Man destined to an eternal state. Knowledge will be carried along witii us into that state.
Scientific knowledge has a relation to a future world. Evidences of a future state.
Causes of the indifference which prevails on this subject. Knowledge prepares the mind
for the employments of the future world. Impossibility of enjoying happiness in that
world without knowledge and moral principle. General remarks 87

SECTION IX.

ON THE UTILITY OF GENERAL KNOWLEDGE IN REFEPJ:NCE TO THE STUDY OF DIVINE REVELATION.

Preliminary remarks. Summary of the external evidences of Christianity. Evidence from
Miracles. Resurrection of Christ. Evidence from Prophesy. Predictions in relation to
Babylon, the Arabs, the Jews, &c. Internal evidences. Dignity and sublimity of the
Scriptures, — exhibit the most rational and sublime views of the Deity, — give full assurance
of a state of immortality, — point out the way in which pardon may be obtained, — incul-
cate the purest and most comprehensive sj'stem of morality, — explain certain moral
phenomena, — communicate a knowledge of interesting facts and doctrines. Beneficial
effects which Christianity has produced in the world, — is adapted to every country. Har-
mony of Science and Revelation. Christianity of the Bible. Evidences of Revelation
continually increasing. Reason for giving the preceding summary of these evidences.
General knowledge enables us to understand the meaning and references of the sacred
writings. Figures used in the prophetical writings. Heathen mythology illustrative of
Scripture history. Manners and customs of eastern nations. Utility of ancient geography.
Natural history and science illustrative of Scripture. Evaporation — rivers — ocean —
storms — animated beings — human body — the heavens — plurality of worlds. Advantages
which would result from an intelligent study of the Scriptures. Folly of infidelity, &c., 91

SECTION X.

MISCELLANEOUS ADVANTAGES OF KNOWLEDGE BRIEFLY STATED.

J. Knowledge would lead to just estimates of human character and enjoijment — various remarks
on this topic. II. The acquisition of general information would enable persons to profit by
their attendance on public instructions. Scientific lectures — instructions from the pulpit —
limited nature of these instructions in consequence of the ignorance of ir.inkind — prospects
presented when knowledge is increased. III. Knowledge would introduce a spirit of tole-
rance, and prevent persecution for conscience^ sake. Persecutions which have prevailed, and
still prevail. Absurdity of persecution — general remarks, &c. IV. Knowledge would
vanquish the antipathies of nations, and produce harmony among mankind. Miseries and
devastations of war — jealousies and hostilities of nations — arguments and efforts which

X CONTENTS.

enlightened minds would employ for counteracting them. Advantages which would result
from the union of mankind. Practicability of effecting it. V. A general diffunJon of
knowledge would promote the union of the Christian church. Number of sectaries — slight
differences of opinion between them. Evils wliich have flowed from sectarianism — promotes
infidelity — retards the progress of Christianity, &c. Folly of attaching an undue impor-
tance to sectarian opinions. Remedies for the divisions of tlie church. Liberality and
bigotry contrasted. Character of violent party-partisans. Auspicious effects which would
flow from Christian union. Present circumstances favorable to union. Concessions which
behooved to be made by all parties, — preparative measure to union — concluding remark.... 107

SECTION XI.

ON THE IMPORTANCE OF CONNECTING SCIENCE WITH RELIGION

Increase of knowledge, of late years. Tendency to irreligion in certain scientific inquirers, and
the circumstances which have produced it. Religion and science connected — irrationality
and inconsistency of attempting to dissever them. Christian religion overlooked. Suprerrie
importance of Christianity. Effects of a complete separation of science and religion. Ten-
dency of our present modes of education. Illustrated from the scenes exhibited during the
French Revolution. Demoralization produced by the principles of the continental philoso-
phists. Persecuting spirit of French infidels "and skeptics. Science without religion
produces few moral effects. Subversion of morality in France, a beacon to guard us from
similar dangers. Extract from Rev. D. Young. Nature of the proposed connection between
science and religion. Attributes of the Deity displayed in his works. Authors who have
illustrated this subject, with remarks on some of their writings. Modern system of physico-
theology, a desideratum. Newton, Maclaurin, and Robison's sentiments on this subject
Truths of revelation ought to be recognized in scientific instructions. Squeamishness of
certain philosophers in this respect. Extract from Dr. Robison. Harmony of Nature and
Revelation. Scientific instructions should produce a moral impression. Prayer and recog-
nition of the Deity in philosophical associations. Hypocrisy of skeptics. Exemplified in
the case of Buffon. Topics, connected with religion, which might occasionally be discussed
in scientific associations. Immortality, its importance in a scientific point of view. Skep-
tical philosophy insufficient to support the mind in the prospect of dissolution — exemplified
in the case of Voltaire, Buffon, Gibbon, Hmne, and Diderot. Concluding reflections 120

APPENDIX.

No. . . I. Ignorance of the dark ages — scarcity and high price of books 132

No. . . II. Superstitious opinions respecting comets and eclipses — Description of a solar eclipse,

and its effects on the inhabitants of Barbary 133

No.. .III. Absurdities of Astrology : 134

No.. . IV. Proofs of the belief which is still attached to the doctrines of Astrology 135

No. . . V. Illustrations of some of the opinions and practices in relation to witchcraft 135

History of witchcraft — and the numbers that suffered for this supposed crime 133

No . VI. Proofs that the belief in witchcraft is still prevalent among certain classes of society. 137
Tales of superstition published by the Jesuits — Anecdote of Alexander D:-. /id-
son, A. M 137

No. .VII. Circumstances which have occasionally led to the belief of specters and appari-
tions— Indistinct vision — Doses of opium — Drunkenness — Dreams — Fear — Tricks
of impostors — Ventriloquism — Witch of Endor — Phantasmagoria — Ghost of a

Flea, &c 137 139

No. VIII. Explosions of steam-engines— Accidents in America — on the Liverpool Railway,

&c. with remarks 139 145

No.. . IX. Circumstances which led to the invention of the Safety Lamp 147

No. . , . X. On the utility of the remarks and observations of Mechanics and Manufacturers. . . . 147

No.. . XI Liberality of Religious Sectaries in America, contrasted with British bigotry 148

No. XII On the demoralizing effects of Infidel Philosophy in France. Gambling — Concu-
binage— Prostitution — Profanation of the Sabbath — Danso-mania — moral reflec-
tions— Consecration of the " Goddess of Reason " — Concluding remarks 150 153

ON THE

GENEEAL DIFFUSIOI OF KIOWLEDGE.

INTBODUCTION

When we take a retrospective view of the
Btate of mankind during the ages that are past,
it presents, on the whole, a melancholy scene of
intellectual darkness. Although in every age
men have possessed all the mental faculties they
now or ever will enjoy, yet those noble powers
seem either to have lain in a great measure dor-
mant, or, when roused into action, to have been
employed chiefly in malignant and destructive
operations. Hence the events which the page of
history records chiefly present to our view the
most revolting scenes of war, rapine, and devas-
tation, as if the earth had been created merely to
serve as a theater for mischief, and its inhabitants
for the purpose of dealing destruction and misery
to all around them. Such, however, are the na-
tural consequences of the reign of Ignorance over
the human mind. For the active powers of man
necessarily follow the dictates of his understand-
ing, and when the intellectual faculties are not
directed to the pursuit and the contemplation of
noble and benevolent objects, they will most fre-
quently be employed in devising and executing
schemes subversive of human happiness and im-
provement.

Amid the darkness which, in ancient times,
80 long overspread the world, some rays of intel-
lectual light appeared in Palestine, in Egypt, and
in the Greek and Roman empires: but its influ-
ence on the nations around was extremely feeble,
and, like a few tapers in a dark night, served lit-
tle more than to render the surrounding dark-
ness visible. The light of science which then
shone was, however, doomed to be speedily ex-
tinguished. About the fifth century of the Chris-
tian era, numerous hordes of barbarians from the
northern and the eastern parts of Europe, and
the north-western parts of Asia, overran the wes-
tern part of the Roman empire, at that time the
principal seat of knowledge; and, in their pro-
gress, overturned and almost annihilated every
monument of science and art which then existed.
Wherever they marched, their route was marked
with devastation and with blood. They made no
distinction between what was sacred and what
was profane — what was barbarous and what was
refined. Amid the din of war, the burning of
cities, the desolation of provinces, the convulsion
of nations, the ruin of empires, and the slaughter
of millions, the voice of reason and of religion
was scarcely heard; science was abandoned; use-
ful knowledge was set at naught; every benevo-
lent feeling and every moral principle was tram-
pled under foot. The earth seemed little else
than one great field of battle; and its inhabitants,
instead of cultivating the peaceful arts and sci-
ences, and walking hand in hand to a blessed im-
mortality, assumed the character of demons, and
gave vent to the most fiend-like and ferocious
passions, until they appeared almost on the brink
of total extermination.

For nearly the space of a thousand years pos-

terior to that period, and prior to the Reformar
tion, a long night of ignorance overspread tha
nations of Europe, and the adjacent regions of
Asia, during which the progress of literature and
science, of religion and morality, seems to have
been almost at a stand ; scarcely a vestige remain-
ing of the efforts of the human mind, during all
that period, worthy of the attention or the imita-
tion of succeeding ages. The debasing supersti-
tions of the Romish church, the hoarding of relics,
the erection of monasteries and nunneries, the
pilgrimages to the tombs of martyrs and other
holy places, the mummeries which were intro-
duced into the services of religion, the wild and
romantic expeditions of crusaders, the tyranny
and ambition of popes and princes, and the wars
and insurrections to which they gave rise, usurped
the place of every rational pursuit, and com-
pletely enslaved the minds of men. So great waa
the ignorance which then prevailed, that persons
of the most distinguished rank could neither read
nor write. Even many of the clergy did not
understand the breviary, or book of common
prayer, which they were daily accustomed to re-
cite, and some of them could scarcely read it.*
The records of past transactions were in a great
measure lost, and legendary tales and fabulous
histories, to celebrate exploits which were never
performed, were substituted in place of the au-
thenticated history of mankind. The learning
which then prevailed, under the name of philoso-
phy and of scholastic theology, consisted chiefly
in vain disquisitions and reasonings about abstract
truths, and incomprehensible mysteries, and in
attempts to decide questions and points of theo-
logy, which lie beyond the reach of the human
mind, and which its limited faculties are unable
to resolve. Sophisms, falsehoods, and bold asse-
verations were held forth as demonstrations; a
pompous display of toords, was substituted in the
place of things; eloquence consisted in vague and
futile declamations; and true philosophy was lost
amid the mazes of wild and extravagant theories
and metaphysical subtleties. The sciences, such
as they were, were all taught in the Latin tongue,
and all books in relation to them were written in
that language; the knowledge of them was there-
fore necessarily confined to the circle of the
learned, and it would have been considered as a
degradation of the subject, to have treated of it in
any of the modern languages which then pre-

* As an evidence of the extreme ignorance of those times,
it may be stated, that many charters granted by persons of
the highest rank are preserved, from which it appears that
they could not subscribe their name. It was usual for per-
sons who could not write, to make the sign of the cross, in
contirmation of a charter. Several of these remain, where
kings and persons of great eminence affix signum crucia
manu ■propria pro ignoratione litcrarum, " the sign of the
cross made by our own hand, on account of our ignorance
of letters." From this circumstance is derived the practice
of making a -|- when signing a deed, in the case of those
who cannot subscribe their names. See Robertson's Cbailet
V and Appendix, No. I.

(11)

VI

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

vailed. The gates of the temple of knowledge
were consequently shut against the great body
of the people, and it was never once surmised
that they had any ri(fht to explore its treasures.
"During this period," says Dr. Roliertson, "the
human mind, neglected, uncultivated, and de-
pressed, continued in the most profound igno-
rance. Europe, during four centuries, produced
few authors who merit to be read, either on ac-
count of the elegance of their coin[)osition, or the
justness and novelty of their sentimenls. There
are few inventions, useful or ornamental to so-
ciety, of which that long period can boast."
And, if those of the highest ranks, and in the
most eminent stations in society, were so deficient
in knowledge, the great mass of the people must
have been sunk into a state of ignorance degrad-
ing to human nature.

About the time of the revival of letters, after
the dark ages of monkish superstition and igno-
rance, the moral and intellectual state of the in-
habitants of Europe began to experience a change
auspicious of better times and of a more enligh-
tened era. The diminution of the Papal power
and influence, the spirit of civil and religious li-
berty which then burst forth, the erection of new
seminaries of education, the discovery of the ma-
riner's compass, the invention of the art of print-
ing, the labors of Lord Bacon in pointing out the
true method of philosophizing, and the subsequent
Jiscoveries of Galileo, Kepler, Boyle, and New-
ton, in the physical sciences, — gave a new and
favorable impulse to the minds of men, and pre-
pared the. way for a more extensive communica-
tion of useful knowledge to persons of every
rank. From this period knowledge began to be
gradually diffused among most of the European
nations; but its progress was slow, and its influ-
ence was chiefly confined to the higher circles
of society, and to persons connected with the
learned professions, until after the middle of the
eighteenth century. About this time there be-
gan to issue from the press many popular works
on Natural and Civil History, Geography, Astro-
nomy, and Experimental Philosophy, divested of
the pedantry of former times, and of the techni-
calities of science, which, along with periodical
works that were then beginning to extend their
influence, conveyed to the minds of the mechanic
and the artisan various fragments of useful know-
ledge. It was not, however, until the era of the
French Revolution, that the stream of knowledge
began to flow with an accelerated progress, and
to shed its influence more extensively on the
middling and the lower orders of society. Though
we cannot look back, without feelings of regret,
and even of horror, at the revolting scenes of an-
archy and bloodshed which accompanied that po-
litical convulsion, yet, amid all its evils, it was
productive of many important and beneficial re-
sults. It tended to undermine that system of su-
perstition and tyranny by which most of the Eu-
ropean nations had been so long enslaved; it
roused millions, from among the mass of the peo-
ple, to assert those rights and privileges, to which
they are entitled as rational beings, and which
had been withheld from them by the strong hand
of power; it stimulated them to investigations
into every department connected with the rights
and the happiness of man, and it excited a spirit
of inquiry into every subject of contemplation
which can improve or adorn the human mind,
which, we trust, will never be extinguished, until
the light of useful knowledge shall extend its in-
fluence over all the inhabitants of the earth.

Striking, however, as the contrast is, between

the state of knowledge in the present and in for-
mer ages, much still remains to be accomplished,
until the great body of mankind be stimulated to
the prosecution of intellectual acquiremt nts.
Though a considerable portion- of rational infor-
mation has of late years been disseminated among
a variety of individuals in different classes of so-
ciety, yet, among the great majority of the po-
pulation in every country, a degree of ignorance
still prevails, degrading to the rank of intellectual
natures. With respect to the great mass of the
inhabitants of the world, it may still be said with
propriety, that " darkness covers the earth, and
gross darkness the people." The greater part of
the continent of America, the extensive plains of
Africa, the vast regions of Siberia, Tartary, Thi-
bet, and the Turkish empire — the immense terri-
tories of New Holland, Sumatra, Borneo, and the
Burman empire, the numerous islands which are
scattered throughout the Indian and the Pacific
oceans, with many other extensive regions in-
habited by human beings — still lie within the
confines of mental darkness. On the numerous
tribes which people those immense regions of our
globe, neither the light of science nor of revela-
tion has yet shed its benign influence; and their
minds, debased' by superstition, idolatry, and ev-
ery malignant passion, and enslaved by the cun-
ning artifices of priests, and the tyranny of cruel
despots, present a picture of human nature in its
lowest state of degradation. Even in Europe,
where the light of science has chiefly shone, how
narrow is the circle which has been enlightened
by its beams! The lower orders of society on the
continent, and even in Great Britain itself, not-
withstanding the superior means of improvement
they enjoy, are still miserably deficient in that
degree of knowledge and information which (svery
human heing ought to possess ; nor are there
many even in the higher spheres of life who cul-
tiA'ate science for its own sake, who set a due
value on intellectual acquisitions, or encourage
the prosecution of rational inquiries.

There is, perhaps, no country in the world
where the body of the people are better educated
and more intelligent than in North Britain; yet
we need not go far, either in the city or in the
country, to be convinced, that the most absurd
and superstitions notions, and the grossest igno-
rance respecting many important subjects inti-
mately connected with human happiness, stil! pre-
vail among the great majority of the population.
Of two millions of inhabitants which constitute
the po{)ulation of the northern part of our island,
there are not, perhaps, 20,000, or the hundredth
part of the whole, whose knowledge extends to
any subject of importance, beyond the range of
their dailj' avocations. With respect to the re-
maining 1,800,000, it may perhaps be said with
propriety, that of the figure and magnitude of the
world they live in — of the seas and rivers, conti-
nents and islands, which diversify its surface, and
of the various tribes of men and animals by which
it is inhabited — of the nature and properties of
the atmosphere which surrounds them — of the
discoveries which have been made respecting
light, heat, electricity, and magnetism — of the
general laws which regulate the economy of na-
ture— of the various combinations and elFecla of
chemical and mechanical powers — of the motions
and magnitudes of the planetary and the stany
orbs — of the principles of legitimate reasoning —
of just conceptions of the attributes and moral
government of the Supreme Being — of the ge-
nuine principles of moral action — of many other
subjects interesting to a rational and immortal

INTRODUCTION.

13

>eing — they are almost as entirely ignorant as
the wandering Tartar, or the untutored Indian.

Of eight hundred millions of human beings
which people the globe we inhabit, there are not
perhaps two millions whose minds are truly en-
lightened as they ought to be — who prosecute
rational pursuits for their own sake, and from a
pure love of science, independently of the know-
ledge requisite for their respective professions and
employments. For we must exclude from the
rank of rational inquirers after knowledge all
those who have acquired a smattering of learning,
with no other view than to gain a subsistence, or
to appear fashionable and polite. And, if this rule
be admitted, I am afraid that a goodly number
even of lawyers, physicians, clergymen, teachers,
nay, even some authors, and professors in uni-
versities and academies, would be struck off" from
the list of lovers of science and rational inquirers
after truth. Admitting this statement, it will fol-
low, that there is not one individual out of four
hundred of the human race, that passes his life
as a rational intelligent being, employing his fa-
culties in those trains of thought and active exer-
cises which are worthy of an intellectual nature!
For, in so far as the attention of mankind is ab-
sorbed merely in making provision for animal
subsistence, and in gratifying the sensual appe-
tites of their nature, they can be considered as lit-
tle superior in dignity to the lower orders of ani-
mated existence.

The late Frederick, king of Prussia, who was
a correct observer of mankind, makes a still lower
estimate of the actual intelligence of the human
species. In a letter to D'Alembert, in 1770, he
says, " Let us take any monarchy you please; —
let us suppose that it contains ten millions of in-
habitants; from these ten millions let us dis-
count,— first the laborers, the manufacturers, the
artisans, the soldiers, and there will remain about
fifty thousand persons, men and women; from
these let us discount twenty-five thousand for the
female sex, the rest will compose the nobility and
gentry, and the respectable citizens; of these, let
us examine how many will be incapable of ap-

{)lication, how many imbecile, how many pusil-
animous, how many dissipated, — and from this
calculation it will result, that out of what is
called a civilized nation of nearly ten millions,
you will hardly find a thousand well-informed
persons, and even among them what inequality
with regard to genius! If eight-tenths of the
nation, toiling for their subsistence, never read — if
another tenth are incapable of application, from
frivolity, or dissipation, or imbecility, — it results,
that the small share of good sense of which our
species is capable, can only reside in a small frac-
tion of a nation." Such was the estimate made
by this philosophic monarch of the intelligence
possessed by the nations of Europe, sixty years
ago; and although society has considerably ad-
vanced in intellectual acquisitions since that pe-
riod, the great body of the people, in every coun-
try, is still shrouded in the mists of folly and ig-
norance.

Such a picture of the intellectual state of man-
kind must, when seriously considered, excite a
melancholy train of reflections in the breast both
of the philanthropist and the man of science.
That such a vast a.ssemblage of beings, furnished
with powers capable of investigating the laws of
nature, — of determining the arrangement, the mo-
tions, and magnitudes of distant worlds, — of
weighing the masses of the planets, — of penetrat-
ing into the distant regions of the universe, —
»f arresting the lightning in its course, — of ex-

ploring the pathless ocean, and the region of the
clouds, — and of rendering the most stubborn ele-
ments of nature subservient to their designs: that
beings, capable of forming a sublime intercourse
with the Crea'vor himself, and of endless progres-
sion in knowledge and felicity, should have their
minds almost wholly absorbed in eating and
drinking, in childish and cruel sports and diver-
sions, and in butchering one another, seems, at
first view, a tacit reflection on the wisdom of the
Creator, in bestowing on our race such noble
powers, and plainly indicates, that the current of
human intellect has widely deviated from its
pristine course, and that strong and reiterated ef-
forts are now requisite to restore it to its original
channel. Every lover of science and of man-
kind must, therefore, feel interested in endeavor-
ing to remove those obstructions which have im-
peded the progress of useful knowledge, and to
direct the intellectual energies of his fellow-men
to the prosecution of objects worthy of the high
station they hold in the scale of existence.

Were we to inquire into the external causes
which have retarded the progress of the human
mind, we should, doubtless, find them existing in
the nature of those civil governments which have
most generally prevailed in the world, and in
several of the ecclesiastical establishments which
have been incorporated with them. It has been
a favorite maxim with all tyrants, that the peo-
ple must be kept in ignorance ; and hence we
find, that in the empires of the East, which are
all of a despotical nature, the people are debarred
from the temple of science, and sunk into a state
of the grossest ignorance and servility. Under
such governments, the minds of men sink into
apathy, — the sparks of genius are smothered, —
the sciences are neglected, — ignorance is honor-
ed,— and the man of discernment, who dares to
vent his opinions, is proscribed as an enemy to
the state. In the more enlightened governments
on the continent of Europe, the same effects have
followed, in proportion to the number of those
tyrannical maxims and principles which enter
into their constitution. Hence, we may fre-
quently determine the degree of mental illumina-
tion which prevails among any people, from a
consideration of the nature of the government
under which they live. For the knowledge of a
people is always in proportion to their liberty,
and where the spirit of liberty is either crushed
or shackled, the energies of the human mind will
never be exerted with vigor, in the acquisition or
the propagation of literature and science. Even
in the mildest and most enlightened governments
of modern Europe, the instruction of the general
mass of society forms no prominent feature in
their administration. Knowledge on general sub-
jects is simply permitted to be disseminated among
the people; its promoters are not sufficiently pa-
tronized and encouraged, — no funds are regularly
appropriated for this purpose, — and its utility, in
many instances, is even called in question. It is
to be hoped, however, now that the din of war is
in some measure hushed, that the attention of
princes and their ministers will be more particu-
larly directed to this important object; for it
might easily be shown, were it necessary, that an
enlightened population is the most solid basis of
a good government, and the greatest security for
its permanence, — that it will always form the
strongest bulwark around every throne where
the scepter is swayed by wisdom and rectitude
That the establishment of the Popish religion in
any state has a tendency to impede the progress
of knowledge, it would be almost needless to 11-

14

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

lustrate. The mummeries which have been in-
terwoven with its services, the groveling and su-
perstitious notions whicli it has engendered, the
ignorance which prevails among the population
of all those countries over which its influence ex-
tends, the alarms of its priestly abettors at the
idea of free discussion, and of enlightening the
minds of the people, the records of its Inquisi-
tions, the history of the dark ages, when it pre-
vailed in all its rigor, and the recent experience
of our own times, show, that it is a system
founded on the darkness and imbecility of the
human Intellect, and can flourish only where the
spirit of liberty has fled, and where reason has
lost its ascendency in the minds of men.*

With regard to the internal causes of the igno-
rance which so generally prevails, they will be
found in the general depravity of human nature;
in the vicious propensities so prevalent among all
ranks ; in the indulgence of inordinate desires
after riches and power; and in the general dispo-
sition of mankind to place their chief happiness in
sensual gratifications, — evils which the spirit of
Christianity only, in conjunction with every ra-
tional exertion, is calculated fully to eradicate.
And therefore it is indispeiisable, that every at-
tempt to diff'use intellectual light over the human
race be accompanied with the most strenuous ex-
ertions to promote the moral renovation of man-
kind. For vice and ignorance, especially among
the lower orders, generally go hand in hand ; and
experience demonstrates, that indulgence in evil
passions, and in unhallowed gratifications, destroys
the relish for mental enjoyments, and is one of the
most powerful obstructions to the vigorous exer-
cise of the intellectual powers.

That the general diff"usion of knowledge among
all ranks is an object much to be desired, will not,
I presume, be called in question by any one who
regards the intellectual powers of man as the no-
blest part of his nature, — and who considers, that
on the rational exercise of these powers his true
happiness depends. If ignorance be one of the
chief causes which disturb the harmonious move-
ments of the machine of society, by removing the
cause we of course prevent the effects ; and if
knowledge be one of the mainsprings of virtuous
conduct, the more it is diffused, the more exten-
sively will be brought into action, on the stage of
life, those virtues which it has a tendency to pro-
duce. A few Ferdinands and Wyndhams and
Don Miguels may still remain, who regard the
great mass of the people merely as subjects of le-
gislation, or as the tools of tyranny and ambition,
and that, therefore, they must be held in the chains
of ignorance, lest they should aspire to the ranks
of their superiors. But the general current of pub-
lic opinion now runs counter to such illiberal and
antiquated notions ; and few persons of respectabil-
ity, at least in this country, would hazard their
reputation in defending a position so degrading and
untenable. The more learning a people have, the
more virtuous, powerful, and happy will they be-
come ; and to ignorance alone must the contrary
effects be imputed. " There is but one case," says
a French writer, " where ignorance can be desira-
ble ; and that is, when all is desperate in a state,
and when, through the present evils, others still

• Let it be carefully remembered, that in these remarks
it is merely the system of popery to which the author refers.
He is aware that many individuals, distincjuished for learn-
ing and piety, have been connected with the Romish
church; and while he condemns the spirit and tendency of
the peculiar dogmas and practices of that church, he depre-
cates every idea of persecution, and every attempt to de-
prive its members of those rights and privileges to which
(hey are entiled as men and as citizens.

greater appear behind. Then stupidity is a bless-
ing: knowledge and foresight are evils. It is then
that, shutting our eyes against the light, we would
hide from ourselves the calamities we cannot pre-
vent." In every other case, knowledge must
prove an inestimable blessing to men of every la-
tion and of every rank.

That the period when a general diffusion of
knowledge shall take place is hastening on, appears
from the rapid progress which has been made in
almost every department of science during the
last half century; from the numerous publications
on all subjects daily issuing from the press; from
the rapid increase of theological, literary, and
scientific journals, and the extensive patronage
they enjoy; from the numerous lectures on chem-
istry, astronomy, experimental philosophy, politi-
cal economy, and general science, now delivered
in the principal cities and towns of Europe; from
the adoption of new and improved plans of public
instruction, and the erection of new seminaries of
education in almost every quarter of the civilized
world; from the extensive circulation of books
among all classes of the community; from the ra-
pid formation of bible and missionary societies;
from the increase of literary and philosophical as-
sociations; from the establishment of mechanics'
institutions in our principal towns, and of librariea
and reading societies in almost every village; from
the eager desire now excited, even among the
lower orders of society, of becoming acquainted
with subjects hitherto known and cultivated only
by persons of the learned professions; and, above
all, from the spirit of civil and religious liberty
now bursting forth, both in the eastern and west-
ern hemispheres, notwithstanding the efforts of
petty tyrants to arrest its progress. Amidst the
convulsions which have lately shaken the sur-
rounding nations, "many have run to and fro, and
knowledge has been increased," the sparks of lib-
erty have been struck from the collision of hostile
armies and opposing interests; and a spirit of in-
quiry has been excited among numerous tribes of
mankind, which will doubtless lead to the most im-
portant results. These circumstances, notwith-
standing some gloomy appearances in the political
horizon, may be considered as so many preludes
of a new and happier era about to dawn upon the
world; when intellectual light shall be diffused
among all ranks, and in every region of the globe;
when Peace shall extend her empire over the
world, when men of all nations, at present separa-
ted from each other by the effects of ignorance,
and of political jealousies, shall be united by the
bonds of love, of reason, and intelligence, and con-
duct themselves as rational and immortal beings.

In order that such a period may be gradually
ushered in, it is essentially requisite that a convic-
tion of the utility and importance of a general dif-
fusion of knowledge be impressed upon the minds
of the more intelligent and influential classes of
society, and that every exertion and every appro-
priate means should be used to accomplish this
desirable object. In accordance with this iaea, I
shall endeavor, in the following work,

I. To illustrate the advantages which would
flow from a general diffusion of useful knowledge
among all ranks, — and shall afterward follow oul
the investigation, by

II. An inquiry into the means requisite to b«
used in order to accomplish this important ob-
ject.*

*As a particular illustration of the means by which a gen.
eral diffusion of knowledge might be effected would render
the present work too bulky, — this department of the snbject
will be prosecuted in a separate volnme.

ON THE

GENERAL DIEFUSIOI OF RIOWLEDGE.

PART I.

ON THE ADVANTAGES WHICH WOULD FLOW FROM A GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

That the intellectual faculties of man have
never been tliorougUly directed to tlie pursuit of
objects wortliy of the dignity of rational and im-
mortal natures — and that the most pernicious ef-
fects have flowed from the perversion of their
mental powers, — are truths which the history of
past ages and our own experience too plainly de-
monstrate. That the state of general society
would be greatly meliorated, were the mists of
ignorance dispelled, and the current of human
thought directed into a proper channel, might
appear, were wo to take an extensive survey of
the evils which have been produced by igno-
rance, and its necessary concomitants, — and of
the opposite effects which would flow from men-
tal illumination, in relation to all those subjects
connected with the improvement and the happi-
ness of our species. Here, liowever, a field of
vast extent opens to view, which would require
Beveral volumes fully to describe and illustrate:
I shall, therefore, in the meantime, select, from
the multitude of objects which crowd upon the
view, only a few prominent particulars, — the
elucidation of which shall occupy the following
sections.

SECTION I.

On the influence which a general diffusion
of knowledge would have in dissipating
those superstitious notions and vain fears
which have so long enslaved the minds of

HEN.

My first proposition is, that the diffusion of
knowledge would undermine the fabric of super-
stition, and remove those groundless fears to
which superstitious notions give rise. Ignorance
has not only debarred mankind from many ex-
quisite and sublime enjoyments, but has created
innumerable unfounded alarms, which greatly in-
crease the sum of human misery. Man is natu-
rally timid, terrified at those dangers whose con-
Bequences ho cannot foresee, and at those un-
common appearances of nature whose causes he
has never explored. Thus, he is led, in many
instances, to regard with apprehension and dread
those operations of nature which are the result of
regular and invariable laws. Under the influence
of such timid emotions, the phenomena of na-
ture, both in the heavens and on the earth, have
been arrayed with imaginary terrors. In the
early ages of the world, a total eclipse of the sun
or of the moon was regarded with the utmost
consternation, as if some dismal catastrophe had
been about to befall the universe. Believing that
the moon in an eclip.se was sickening or dying
through the influence of enchanters, the trem-

bling spectators had recourse to the ringing of
bells, the sounding of trumpets, the beating of
brazen vessels, and to loud and horrid exclama-
tions, in order to break the enchantment, and to
drown the muttering of witches, that the moon
might not hear them. In allusion to this prac-
tice, Juvenal, when speaking of a loud scolding
woman, says, that she was able to relieve the

" Forbear your drums and trumpets if you please,
Her voice alone the laboring moon can ease."

Nor are such foolish opinions and customs yet
banished from the world. They are said to be
still prevalent in several Mahometan and Pagan
countries.* Comets, too, with their blazing tails,
were long regarded, and still are, hy the vulgar,
as harbingers of divine vengeance, presaging fa-
mines and inundations, or the downfall of princes
and the destruction of empires. f The Aurorae
Boreales, or northern lights, have been frequently
gazed at with similar apprehensions, and whole
provinces have been thrown into consternation
by the fantastic coruscations of those lambent
meteors. Some pretend to see, in these harmless
lights, armies mixing in fierce encounter, and
fields streaming with blood; others behold states
overthrown, earthquakes, inundations, pestilences,
and the most dreadful calamities. Because some
one or other of these calamities formerly hap-
pened soon after the appearance of a comet, or
the blaze of an aurora, therefore they are consi-
dered either as the causes or the prognostics of
such events.

From the same source have arisen those foolish
notions, so fatal to the peace of mankind, which
have been engendered by judicial astrology. Un-
der a belief that the characters and the fates of
men are dependent on the various aspects of the
stars and conjunctions of tlie planets, the most
unfounded apprehensions, as well as the most de-
lusive hopes, have been excited by the professors
of this fallacious science. Such impositions on
the credulity of mankind are founded on the
grossest absurdity, and the most palpable igno-
rance of the nature of things; for since the as-
pects and conjunctions of the celestial bodies hoTc,
in every period of duration, been subject to in-
variable laws, they must be altogether inadequate
to account for the diversified phenomena of the
moral world, and for that infinite variety we ob-
serve in the dispositions and the destinies of men;
and, indeed, the single consideration of the im-
mense distances of the stars from our globe, is
suflicient to convince any rational mind that their
influence can have no effect on a region so remote
from the spaces which they occupy. The pla-
netary bodies, indeed, may, in certain cases, have

See Appendix, No. II.

(15)

t Ibid.

16

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

some degree oi physical influence on tlie earth, by
virtiK! of tiieiruUractivo power, but that influence
can never uflect the operation of moral causes, or
the qualities of the mind. Even although it were
admitted that the lieavenly bodies have an influ-
ence over the destinies of the liuman race, yet we
have no daia whatever by which to ascertain the
mode of its operation, or to deteraiiue the formula
or rules by which calculations arc to be made, in
order to predict the fates of nations, or the indi-
vidual te.'uperaments and destinies of men; and
consequently, the principles and rules on which
astrologers proceed in constructing horoscopes,
and calculating nativities, are nothing else than
mere assumptions, and their pretensions nothing
short of criminal impositions upon the credulity
of mankind. With equally the same reason might
we assert, that the earth, in different positions in
its orbit, \vould have an influence in producing
fools and maniacs in the planet Jupiter, or in ex-
citing wars and insurrections among the inhabi-
tants of Saturn, as to suppose, with Mr. Vai-ley,
the prince of modern astrologers, that " Saturn
passing through the ascendant, causes dullness ana
melancholy for a few weeks," and that "Jupiter,
in the third house, gives safe inland journeys and
agreeable neighbors or kindred."

Notwithstanding the absurdity of the doctrines
of astrology, this art has been practiced in every
period of time. Among the Romans, the people
were so infatuated with it, that the astrologers,
or, as they were then called, the mathematicians,
maintained their ground in spite of all the edicts
of the emperors to expel them from the capital;
and after they were at length expelled by a for-
mal decree of the senate, they found so much
protection from the credulity of the people, that
they still remained in Rome unmolested. Among
the Chaldeans, the Assyrians, the Egyptians, the
Greeks, and the Arabians, in ancient times, as-
trology was uniformly included in the list of the
sciences, and used as one species of divination by
which they attempted to pry into the secrets of
futurity. The Brahznius in India, at an early
period, introduced this art into that country, and,
by means of it, have rendered themselves the ar-
biters of good and evil hours, and of the fortunes
of their fellow-men, and have thus raised them-
selves to great authority and influence among the
illiterate multitude. They are consulted as ora-
cles, and, like all other impostors, they have taken
great care never to sell their answers without a
handsome remuneration. In almost every coun-
try in the world this art is still practiced, and only
a short period has elapsed since the princes and
legislators of Europe were directed in the most
important concerns of the state by the predictions
of astrologers. In the time of Queen Catharine
de Medicis, astrology was so much in vogue, that
nothing, however trifling, was to be done without
consulting the stars. Tlie astrologer Morin, in
the seventeenth century, directed Cardinal Riche-
lieu's motions in some of his journeys, and Lou-
isa Maria de Gonzaga, queen of Poland, gave 2000
ctowns to carry on an edition of his Astrologia
Gcdlica; and in the reigns of Henry the Third
and Henry the Fourth of France, the predictions
of astrologers were the common theme of the
court conversation. Even in the present day,
and in the metropolis of the British empire, this
fallacious art is practiced, and its professors are
resorted to for judicial information, not only by
the vulgar, but even by many in the higher
spheres of life. The extensive annual sale of
more than 240,000 copies of " Moore's Almanac,"
which abounds with such predictions, and of si-

milar publications, is a striking proof of the belief
which is still attached to the doctrines of astro-
logy in our own age and country, and of the ig-
norance and credulity from whicli such a belief
proceeds.* Parhelia, parselena;, sliooting stars^
fiery meteors, luminous arches, lunar rainbows,
and other atmospherical phenomena, have like-
wise been considered by some as ominous of im-
pending calamities.

Such are some of the objects in the he(tcen$,
which ignorance and superstition have arrayed
with imaginary terrors.

On the earth, the objects which have given rise
to groundless fears, are almost innumerable. The
ignes J'atui, those harmless meteors which hover
above moist and fenny places in the night-time,
and emit a glimmering light, have been regarded
as malicious spirits, endeavoring to deceive the
bewildered traveler, and lead him to destruction-
The ticking noise of the little insect called the
death-watch — a screech-owl screaming at the win-
dow— a raven croaking over a house — a dog
howling in the night-time — a hare or a sow cross-
ing the road — the meeting of a bitch with whelps,
or a snake lying in the road — the falling of salt
from a table — and even the curling of a fibre of
tallow in a burning candle,t have been regarded
with apprehensions of terror, as prognostics of
impending disasters, or of approaching death.

In the Highlands of Scotland, the motions and
appearances of the clouds were, not long ago,
considered as ominous of disastrous events. On
the evening before new-year's day, if a bleick
cloud appeared in any part of the horizon, it was
thought to prognosticate a plague, a famine, or
the death of some great man in that part of the
country over which it seemed to hang; and in
order to ascertain the place threatened by the
omen, the motions of the clouds were often
watched through the whole night. In the same
country, the inhabitants regard certain days as
unlucky, or ominous of bad fortune. That day
of the week on which the 3d of May falls, is
deemed unlucky throughout the whole year. In
the isle of Mull, plowing, sowing, and reaping,
are always begun on Tuesday, though the most
favorable weather for these purposes be in this
way frequently lost. In Morven, none will, upon
any account, dig peat or turf for fuel on Friday.
The age of the moon is also much attended to by
the vulgar Highlanders; and an opinion prevails,
that if a house take fire while the moon is in the
decrease, the family will from that time decline
in its circumstances, and sink into poverty. t

In England, it is reckoned a bad omen to break
a looking-glass, as it is believed the party to whom
it belongs will lose his best friend. In going a
journey, if a sow cross the road, it is believed the
party will meet either with a disappointment or a
bodily accident before returning home. It is
reckoned unlucky to see first one magpie, and
then another; and to kill a magpie, it is believed,
will certainly be punished with some terrible mis-
fortune. If a person meet a funeral procession,

* That the absurdities of astrology are still in vogue among
a certain class, appears from the publication of such works
as the following : — " A Treatise on Zodiacal Physiognomy,
illustrated by engravings of heads and features, and accom-
panied by tables of the times of the rising of the twelve
signs of the Zodiac, and containing also new astrological
explanations of some remarkable portions of ancient mytho-
logical history. By John Varley. No. I, large 8vo., pp. 60,
to be comprised in four parts. ' Longman and Co. 1828 !"
A specimen of some of the fooleries and absurdities gravely
treated of by this sapient author, will be found in Nos. lU
and IV of the Appendix to this volume.

t Called in Scotland, the dead spcal.

t Encyclopedia Britannica, Art. Omen.

OMENS

17

t is considered necessary alv/ays to take off the
hat, wliicli keeps all the evil spirits tliut attend
the body in good humor. If in eating, a person
miss his mouth, and the victuals fall, it is reck-
oned very unlucky, and ominous of approacliing
sickness. It is also considered as unlucky lo
present a knife, scissors, razor, or any sharp cut-
ting instrument, to one's mistress or friend, as
they are apt to cut love and friendsiiip; and to
find a knife or razor, denotes ill luck or disaj)-
pointment to the party.

Among the ancient nations, there was hardly
any circumstance or occurrence, however trivial,
from which they did not draw omens. This
practice appears to have taken its rise in Egypt,
the parent country of almost every superstition
of paganism; but, from whatever source it may
have uerived its origin, it spread itself over the
whole inhabited globe, even among the most ci-
vilized nations, and at this day it prevails more
or less among the vulgar in every country. Even
kings and emperors, sages and heroes, have been
leized with alarm, at the most trivial circum-
stances, which they were taught to consider as
«minous of bad fortune, or of impending danger.
Buetonius says of Augustus, that he believed im-
plicitly in certain omens; and that, si mane sibi
calceus perperam, ac sinister pro dextero induccre-
ter, ut dirum, " if his shoes were improperly put
on in the morning, especially if the left shoe was
put upon his right foot, he held it for a bad
omen."

Thus it appears, that the luminaries of heaven,
the clouds, and other meteors that float in the at-
mosphere, the actions of animals, the seasons of
the year, the days of the week, the most trivial
incidents in human life, and many other circum-
stances, have afforded matter of false alarm to
mankind. But this is not all: Man, ever prone
to disturb his own peace, notwithstanding the
real evils he is doomed to suffer, has been ingeni-
ous enough to form imaginary monsters which
have no existence, either in heaven or on earth,
nor the least foundation in the scenes of external
.jature. He has not only drawn false conclusions
from the objects which have a real existence, to
increase his fears; but has created, in his imagi-
nation, an ideal world, and peopled it with spec-
ters, hobgoblins, fairies, satj^rs, imps, wraiths,
genii, brownies, witches, wizards, and other fan-
tastical beings, to whose caprices he believes his
happiness and misery are subjected. An old
wrinkled hag is supposed to have the power of
rendering miserable all around her, who are the
objects of her hatred. In her privy chamber, it
is believed, she can roast and ton lent the absent,
and inflict incurable disorders bo h on man and
beast;* she can transport herself through the air
on a spit or a broomstick; or, when it serves her
purpose, she can metamorphose herself into a cat
or a hare; and, by shaking a bridle over a person
asleep, can transform him into a horse; and,
mounted on this newly-created steed, can traverse
the air on the wings of the wind, and visit distant
countries in the course of a night. A certain
being called a fairy, though supposed to be at
least two or three feet high, is believed to have
Uie faculty of contracting its body, so as to pass

• The reader will find nbtindance of relations of this kind
in " Sc'tan's invisible world discmered," a book which was
iong Tb-ad with avidity by the vulvar in this country, and
which has fre(iuently caused emotions of terror among
youthful groups on winter evenings, while listening to its
fearful relations, which could never be eradicated, and has
rendered them cowards in the dark, during all the subsequent
periods of their lives.

Vol. I.— 2

through the key-hole of a door; and though they
are a di.stinct species of beings from man, they
have a strong fancy for chiklren; and hence, in
the Highlands of Scotland, new-born infants ar«
watched until the christening is over, lest they
should be stolen or exchanged by those fantastic
existences. The regions of the air have been
peopled with apparitions and terrific phantoms
of different kinds, which stalk abroad at the dead
hour of night, to terrify the lonely travelej-. In
ruined castles and old houses, they are said to
announce their appearance by a variety of loud
and dreadful noises; sometimes rattling in the
old hall like a coach and six, and rumbling up
and down the staircase like the trlindling of bowls
or cannon-balls. Especially in lonely church-
yards, in retired caverns, in deep forests and
riells, horrid sounds are said to have been heard,
and monstrous shapes to have appeared, by which
whole villages have been thrown into consterna-
tion.*

Nor have such absurd notions been confined to
the illiterate vulgar; men of considerable acquire-
ments in literature, from ignorance of the laws
of nature, have fallen into the same delusions.
Formerly, a man who was endowed with comi-
derable genius and knowledge, was reckoned a
magician. Dr. Bartolo was seized by tlie Inqui-
sition at Rome, in the sixteenth century, because
he unexpectedly cured a nobleman of the gout;
and the illustrious Friar Bacon, because he was
better acquainted with experimental philosophy
than most persons of the age in which he lived,
was suspected, even by the learned ecclesiastics,
of having dealings with the devil. Diseases weM
at those times imputed to fascination, and hun-
dreds of poor wretches were dragged to the stake
for being accessory to them. Mercatus, physi-
cian to Philip II, of Spain, relates, that he had
seen a very beautiful woman break a steel mirror
to pieces, and blast some trees, by a single glance
of her eyes ! Josephus relates, that he saw a certain
Jew, named Eleazar, draw the devil out of an old
woman's nostrils, by the application of Solomon's
seal to her nose, in the presence of Vespasian.
Dr. Mynsight Is said to have cured several be-
witched persons with a plaster of asafctida.
How the asafetida was efficacious, was much

* That many of the superstitious opinions and practices
above alluded to, still prevail even within the limits of the
British empire, appears from the following extract from the
" Monthly Magazine" for July, 1HI3, p. 49f).— " In Stalford-
shire, they burn a calf in a farm-house alive, to prevent the
other calves from dying. In the same county, a woman
having kept a toad in a pot in her garden, her husband killed
it, and she reproaclied him for it, saying, she intended the
next Sunday to have taken the sacrament, for the purpose of
getting some of the bread to feed him with, and make him
thereby a valuable familiar spirit to her. At Long Ashton,
a young farmer has several times predicted his own end,
from what he calls being looked over; and his mother and
father informed a frieml of mine [says the relater], that they
liad sent lothe White Witch Doctor, beyond Iiri<lge Water,
by the coachman, for a charm to cure him [having paid
handsomely for it]; but that he had now given him over, as
her spells were more potent than his. If not dead, he 'i%
dying of mere fear, and all the parish of his class believe it.
There is also, in that parish, an old man who sells ginger-
bread to the schools, who is always employed to cure the
red tcatcr in cows, by means of charms and verses which he
says to them. In the Marsh, we have water doctors, who
get rich; at the mines, diviners with rods, who find ores and
water; and at Weston-super-Mare, they see lights before
funerals, and are agreed that the people in that parisli al.
ways die by threes, i. e. three old, three young, three men,
three women, &c. Such are a part only of the superstition*
of the West in 1813!"

Every one who is much conversant with the lower ranks
of society, will find, that such notions are still current and
believed by a considerable portion of the popul'lion, which
is the only apology that can be made for stating and coub
teracting snub opinions.

18

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

disputed amorifj the learned. Some tlioiight the
devil iiiiglit consider such an appliciUion as an
; insult, and ran olT in a passion; but otiiers very
sagely observed, that as devils were supposed to
have eyes and ears, it was probable they might
have noses too. James VI, who was famed for
his polemics and theological acquirements, wrote
a treatise in defense of witchcraft, and persecuted
those who opposed liis opinions on tiiis subject.
Tne pernicious effects in mines, occasioned by
the explosion of hydrogi-n gas, were formerly ini-
putt^d to the deiLiOns of the mine. Van llelinont,
Bodinus, Strozza, and Lutiier, attributed thunder
and meteors to the devil. Socrates beli'ved he
was guided by a demon. Dr. Cudworth, Glanvil,
and otliers, wrote in defense of witchcraft and
apparitions. But it would be endless to detail all
the foolish opinions which have been imbibed and
propagated even by men who pretended to genius
and lear-ning.

Beside the opinions to which I have now ad-
verted, and which have a direct tendency to fill
the mind with unnecessary apprehensions, there
is also an immense variety of foolish and errone-
ous opinions which passed current for genuine
truths among a great majority of mankind. That
a man has one rib less than a woman, — that there
is a certain Jew still alive, who has wandered
through the world since the crucifixion of Christ, —
that the coffin of Mahomet is suspended in the
air between two loadstones, — that the city of Je-
rusalem is in the center of the world, — that the
tenth wave of the sea is greater and more danger-
ous than all the rest, — that all animals on the
land have their corresponding kinds in the sea, —
that there is a white powder wmcn Kills without
giving a report, — that the blood of a goat will
dissolve a diamond, — that all the stars derive their
light from the sun, — that a candle made of hu-
fllan fat, when lighted, will prevent a person
asleep from awaking, with many other similar
unfounded positions, — are regarded as indisputa-
ble truths by thousands, whose adherence to tra-
dition and authority, and whose indolence and
credulity, prevent them from inquiring, with a
manly independence, into the true state and na-
ture of things.

Such are a few, and but a very few, of the su-
perstitious notions and vain fears by which the
great majority of the human race, in every age
and country has been enslaved. To have at-
tempted a complete enumeration of such halluci-
nations of the human intellect, would have been
vain, and could only have produced satiety and
disgust. That such absurd notions should ever
have prevailed, is a most grating and humiliating
thought, when we consider the noble faculties
with which man is endowed. That they still
prevail, in a great measure, even in our own
country, is a striking proof, that we are, as yet,
biit just emerging from the gloom of intellectual
darkness. The prevalence of such opinions is to
be regretted, not only on account of the ground-
le^^s alarms they create, but chiefly on account of
the false ideas they inspire Avith regard to the na-
ture of the Supreme Ruler of the universe, and
of his arrangements in the government of the
world. While a man, whose mind is enlightened
with true science, perceives throughout all nature
the most striking evidences of benevolent design,
and rejoices in the benignity of the Great Parent
of the universe,7— while he perceives nothing in
the arrangements of the Creator, in any depart-
ment of his W'Orks, which has a direct tendency
to produce pain to any intelligent or sensitive ex-
ifltence, — the superstilious man, on the contrary,

contemplates the sky, the air, the waters, and the
earth, as filled with malicious beings, ever ready
to haunt him with terror, or to plot his destruc-
tion. The one contemplates the Deity directing
the movements of the material world, by fixed
and invariable laws, which none but himself can
counteract or suspend; the other views them as
continually liable to be controlled by capricious
and malignant beings, to gratify the most trivial
and unworthy passions. How very different, of
course, must be their conceptions and feelings
respecting the attributes and government of the
Supreme Being! While the one views Him as
an infinitely wise and benevolt-nt Father, whose
paternal care and goodness inspire confidence and
affection; the other must regard him, in a certain
degree, as a capricious being, and offer up his
adorations under the influence of fear.

Such notions have likewise an evident tendency
to habituate the mind to false principles and pro-
cesses of reasoning, which unfit it for forming
legitimate conclusions in its researches after truth.
They chain down the understanding, and sink it
into the most abject and son. id state; and prevent
it from rising to those noble and enlarged views
which revelation and modern science exhibit, of
the order, the extent, and the economy of the
universe. It is lamentable to reflect, that so
many thousands of beings endowed with the fa
culty of reason, who cannot by any means be
persuaded of the motion of the earth, and the dis-
tances and magnitudes of the celestial bodies,
should swallow, without the least hesitation, opi-
nions ten thousand times more improbable; and
find no difiiculty in believing that an old woman
can transform herself into a hare, and wing her
way through the air on a broomstick.

But what is worst of all, such notions almost iri'
variably lead to the perpetration of deeds of cruelty
and injustice. Of the truth of this position, the
history of almost every nation affords the most
ample proof. Many of the barbarities committed
in pagan countries, both in their religious wor-
ship and their civil polity, and most of the cruel-
ties inflicted on the victims of the Romish inqui-
sition, have flowed from this source.* Nor are
the annals of our own country deficient in exam-
ples of this kind: The belief attached to the doc-
trine of witchcraft, led our ancestors, little more
than a century ago, to condemn and to burn at
the stake hundreds of unhappy women, accused
of crimes of which they could not possibly have
been guilty. t In New England, about the year
1692, a witchcraft frenzy rose to such excess as to
produce commotions and calamities more dreadful
than the scourge of war or the destroying pesti-
lence. There lived in the town of Salem, in that
country, two young women, who were subject
to convulsions, accompanied with extraordinary
symptoms. Their father, a minister of the church,
supposing they were hewitclied , cast his suspicions
upon an Indian girl, who lived in the house,
whom he compelled, by harsh treatment, to con-

* In the dnrhv of Lorraine, 900 females were delivered
over to the flames, for being witc/irs, by one inqnisitor alone.
Under this accusation, it is reckoneil that upward of t/iirt$
thojisand women have perished by the hands of the Inquisi
tion. — "Inquisition Unmasked," hy Pnigblanch.

t The Scots appear to have displayed a more than ordi-
nary zeal against witches, and it is said that more deranged
old women were condemned for this imaginary crime in
Scotland, than in any other country. So late as 1722, a poor
woman was burned for witchcraft, which was among the
last executions in Scotland. A variety of curious particn-
lars in relation to the trials of witches, may bfrseen in Pit-
cairn's " Criminal Trials, and other proceedings before th«
High Conrt of Justiciary in Scotland "— Part II, lately pnU
lisbed. See also Appendix, No. V.

ABSURDITY OF SUPERSTITION.

19

fegs that she was a witch. Other women, on
hearing this, immediately believed that tlie con-
vulsions, which proceeded only from the nature
of their sex, were owing to tlie same cause.
Tliree citizens, casually named, were immedi-
ately thrown into prisoii, accused of witchcraft,
hanged, and their bodies left exposed to wild
beasts and birds of prey. A few ciays after, six-
teen other persons, together with a counselor,
who, because he refused to plead against them,
was supposed to share in their guilt, suffered in
the same manner. From this instant, the ima-
gination of the multitude was inflamed witii these
horrid and gloomy scenes. Children of ten years
of age \vere put to death, young girls were strip-
ped naked, and the marks of witchcraft searched
for upon their bodies with the most indecent cu-
riosity; and those spots of the scurvy which age
impresses upon the bodies of old men, were taken
for evident signs of infernal power. In default
of these, torments were employed to extort con-
fessions, dictated by the executioners themselves.
For such fancied crimes, the offspring of super-
stition alone, they were imprisoned, tortured,
murdered, and tiieir bodies devoured by tlie
beasts of prey. If the magistrates, tired out with
executions, refused to punish, they were them-
selves accused of the crimes they tolerated; the
very ministers of religion raised false witnesses
against them, who made them forfeit with their
lives the tardy i-emorse excited in them by hu-
manity. Dreams, apparitions, terror, and con-
eternation of every kind, increased these prodi-
gies of folly and horror. The prisons were filled,
the gibbets left standing, and all the citizens in-
volved in gloomy apprehensions. So that super-
stitious notions, so far from being innocent and
•harmless speculations, lead to the most deplorable
results, and tlierefore ought to be undermined
and eradicated by every one who wishes to pro-
mote the happiness and the good order of general
Bociety.

Such, then, is the evil we find existing among
mankind — false opinions, which produce vain
fears, which debase the understanding, exhibit
distorted views of the Deity, and lead to deeds of
cruelty and injustice. Let us now consider the
remedy to be applied for its removal.

I have all along taken it for granted, that igno-
rance of the laws and economy of nature is the
great source of the absurd opinions to which I
have adverted, — a position which, I presume, will
not be called in question. For such opinions
cannot be deduced from an attentive survey of
the phenomena of nature, or from an induction
of well-authenticated facts; and tliey are equally
repugnant to the dictates of revelation. Nay, so
far are they from having any foundation in na-
ture or experience, that in proportion as we ad-
vance in our researches into Nature's economy
nnd laws, in the same proportion we perceive
their fijtility and absurdity. As in most other
cases, so in this, a knowledge of the cause of the
evil leads to the proper remedy. Let us take
away the cause, and the effect of course will be
removed. Let the exercise of the rational facul-
ties be directed into a proper channel, and the
mind furnished with a few fundamental and in-
controvertible principles of reasoning — let the
proper sources of information be laid open — let
striking and interesting facts be presented to view,
and a taste for rational investigation be encou-
raged and promoted — let habits of accurate ob-
servation be induced, and the mind directed to
draw proper conclusions from the various objects
wh' -h present themselves to view, — and then we

may confidently expect, that superstitious opini-
ons, with all their usual accompaniments, will
gradually evanish, as the shades of night before
the rising sun.

But here it may be inquired, What kind of
knowledge is it that will produce this effect? It
is not merely an acquaintance with a number of
dead languages, willi Roman and Grecian anti-
quities, with the subtleties of metaphysics, with
pagan mythology, with politics or poetry: these,
however important in other points of view, will
not, in the present case, produce the desired ef-
fect; for we have already seen, that many who
were conversant in such subjects were not proof
against the admission of superstitious opiniona
In order to produce the desired effect, the mind
must be directed to the study of material nature,
to contemplate the various appearances it pre-
sents, and to mark the uniform results of those
invariable laws by which the universe is go-
verned. In particular, the attention should be
directed to those discoveries which have been
made by philosophers in the different departments
of nature and art, during the last two centuries.
For this purpose, the study of natural history, as
recording the various facts respecting the atmo-
sphere, the waters, the earth, and animated be-
ings, combined vvith the study of natural philoso-
phy and astronomy, as explaining the causes of
th* phenomena of nature, will have a happy ten-
denc}" to eradicate from the mind those false no-
tions, and, at the same time, will present to view
objects of delightful contemplation. Let a person
be once thoroughly convinced that Nature is uni-
form in her operations, and governed by regular
laws, impressed by an all-wi.se and benevolent
Being, — he will soon be inspired with confidence,
and will not easily be alarmed at any occasionslj
phenomena which at first sight might appear as
exceptions to the general rule.

For example, — let persons be taught that eclipses
are occasioned merely by the sljadow of on©
opaque body falling upon another — that they are
the necessary result of the inclination of the
moon's orbit to that of the earth — that the times
when they take place depend on the new or full
moon happening at or near the points of inter-
section— and that other planets which ha\"e moons,
experience eclipses of a similar natu — that
the cornets are regular bodies belonging to jut sys-
tem, which finish their revolutions, and appear
and disappear in stated periods of time — that tha
northern lights, though seldom seen in southern
climes, are frequent in the regions of the North,
and supply the inhabitants with light in the ab-
sence of the sun, and have probably a relation to
the magnetic and electric fluids — that the ignes
fatui are harmless lights, formed by the ignition
of a certain species of gas produced in the soils
above which they hover — that the notes of the
death-watch, so far from being presages of death,
are ascertained to be the notes of love, and pre-
sages of hymeneal intercourses among these little
insects;* let rational information of this kind be
imparted, and they will soon learn to contemplate
nature with tranquillity and composure. Nay, a
more beneficial effect than eve.^ this, will, at the
same time, be produced. Those objects which
they formerly beheld with alarm, will now bo
converted into sources of enjoyment, and be
contemplated with emotions of deUght

" When from the dread immensity of space.
The rushing comet to the sun descends

* This fact was particularly ascertained by Dr. Uerham.-^
Philosophical Transactions, No. 291.

20

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

With Rwfiil traic projected o'er the world;

The enlij;titen'il tew,

Whose goil-like iiiiiuls i)liilo;>oj)hy exults.
The (.'lorioHs stranger hiiil. They feel a joy

should philosophers be freed from such terrific
visions, if subslantial knowledge had not the
power of banishing them from the mind? Why
should supernatural beings feel so shy in conver-
sing with men of science? They would be thft
fittest persons to whom they might impart their
secrets, and communicate information respecting
the invisible world, but it never fulls to their lot
Such are the sublime emotions with which a | to be favored with such visits. Therefore, it miiy

Divi-iiely great; they in their powers exult;
They see the blazing wonder rise anew,
la seeming terror clad, but kindly bent.
To work the will of all-sustaining Love."

J'/iomson's Summer.

person enlightened with the beams of science con-
templates the return of a comet, or any uncom-
mon celestial appearance. He will await the ap-
proach of such phenomena with pleasing expec-
tation, in hopes of discovering more of the nature
and destination of those distant orbs; and will
be led to form more enlarged ideas of their omni-
potent Creator.

AgaiUj to remove the apprehensioits which arise
from the fear of invisible and incorporeal beings,
let persons be instructed in the various optical iilu-
Bions to which we are subject, arising from the
intervention of fogs, and the indistinctness of
vision in the night-time, which make us frequent-
ly mistake a bush that is near us for a large tree
at a distance; and, under the influence of which
illusions, a timid imagination will transform the
indistinct image of a cow or a horse into a terrific
phantom of a monstrous size. Let them also be
taught, by a selection of well-authenticated facts,
the powerful influence of the imagination in
creating ideal forms, especially when under the
dominion of fear — the eflects produced by the
workings of conscience, when harassed with
guilt — by very lively dreams, by strong doses of
opium, by drunkenness, hysteric passions, mad-
ness, and other disorders that affect the mind, and
by the cunning artifices of impostors to promote
some sinister or nefarious designs. Let them
likewise be instructed in the nature of spontane-
ous combustions and detonations, occasioned by
the accidental combustion and explosion of gases,
which produce occasional noises and lights in
church-yards and empty houses. Let the experi-
ments of optics, and the striking phenomena pro-
duced by electricity, galvanism, magnetism, and
the different gases, be exhibited to their view, to-
gether with details of the results which have been
produced by various mechanical contrivances. In
fine, let their attention be directed to the foolish,
whimsical, and extravagant notions, attributed to
apparitions, and to their inconsistency with the
wise and benevolent arrangements of the Gover-
nor of the universe.*

That such instructions as those I have now
hinted at would completely produce the intended
effect, may be argued from this consideration, —
tfiat tlieyhave uniformly produced this effect on every
mind which has been thus enlightened. Where is
the man to be found, whose mind is enlightened
in the doctrines and discoveries of modern sci-
ence, and who yet remains the slave of supersti-
tious notions and vain fears? Of all the philoso-
phers in Europe, is there one who is alarmed at
an eclipse, at a comet, at an ignis fatuus, or the
notes of a death-watch, or who postpones his ex-
periments on account of what is called an unlucky
day? Did we ever hear of a specter appearing to
such a person, dragging him from bed at the dead
hour of midnight to wander through the forest
trembling with fear? No: such beings appear
only to the ignorant and illiterate ; and we never
heard of their appearing to any one who did not
previously believe in their existence. But why

be concluded, that tiie ditfusion of useful kitowl-
edge would ilifallibly dissipate those groundless
fears which have so long disturbed the happiness
particularly of the lower orders of mankind.*

It forms no objection to what has been now
stated, that the late Dr. Samuel Johnson believed
in the existence of ghosts, and in the second siffht,
for, with all his vast acquirements in literature, he
was ignorant of natural science, and even at-
tempted to ridicule the study of natural philoso-
phy and astronomy — the principal subjects which
have the most powerful tendency to dissipate such
notions, — as may be seen in No. 24 of his " Ram-
bler;" where he endeavored to give force to hia
ridicule by exhibiting the odaities of an imaginary
pretender to those sciences. He talks of men of
science "lavishing their hours in calculating the
weight of the terraqueous globe, or in adjusting
systems of worlds beyond the reach of the tele-
scope;" and adds, that "it was the greatest praise of
Socrates, that he drew the wits of Greece from the
vain pursuit of natural philosophy to moral inqui-
ries, and turned their thoughts from stars and
tides, and matter and motion, upon the various
modes of A'irtue and relations of life." Hia
opinions and conduct, therefore, can only be con-
sidered as an additional proof of the propriety ol
the sentiments above expressed.

Nor should it be considered as a thing imprac-
ticable to instruct the great body of mankind io
the subjects to w-hich I have alluded. Everj' man
possessed of vvliat is called common sense, is ca-
pable of acquiring all the information requisite
for the purpose in view, even without infringing
on the time allotted for his daily labors, provided
his attention be once thoroughly directed to its
acquisition, and proper means used to promote hb
instruction. It is not intended that all men should
be made profound mathematicians and philoso-
phers; nor is it necessary, in order to eradicate
false opinions, and to enlarge and elevate the
mind. A general view of useful knowledge is all
that is necessary for the great mass of mankind;
and would certainly be incoruparably preferable to
that gross ignorance, and those groveling disposi-
tions, which so generally prevail among the infe-
rior ranks of society, x'^nd, to acquire such a
degree of rational information, requires only that
a taste for it, and an eager desire for acquiring it,
be excited in the mind. If this were attained, I
am bold to affirm, that the acquisition of such

*It would be unfair to infer fiom any expressions here
used, that the author denies the possibility of supernatural
visions and appearances. We are assured, from the records
of Sacred History, that beings of an order superior to the
human race, have "at sundry tinnes and in divers manners,"
made their appearance to men. l!ut there is the most
marked difference between vulgar apparitions, and the C6
lestial messengers to which the records of Revelation refer.
They appeared, not to old women and clowns, bnt to patri-
archs, prophets, and aposttes. They appeared, not to
frighten the timid, and create unnecessary alarm, but to de-
clare "tidings of great jov." They appeared, not to reveal
such paltry secrets as the'place where a pot of gold or silvet
is concealed, or where a lost rin^ may be found, but to com-
municate intelligence worthy of God to reveal, and of the
utmost importance for man to receive. In these, and many

•See Appen^Jix No. \T;I, for an illustration of some of other respects, there is the most striking contrast between
the causes which have coicurred to propagate the belief of | popular ghosts, and the supernatural communications ana
•ppaiitions.

appearances recorded in Scriotore.

PREVENTION OF DISEASES AND ACCIDENTS.

21

Information may be made by any person who is ca-
pable of learning a common mechanical employ-
ment, and will cost him less trouble and expense
tlian are requisite to a schoolboy for acquiring the
eiements of the Latin tongue.

To conclude this brancli of the subject: — Since
it appears that ignorance produces superstition,
and superstitious notions engender vain fears and
distorted views of the government of the AI-
miglity, — since all fear is in iLself painful, and,
when it conduces not to safety, is painful without
use, — every consideration and every scheme by
which groundless terrors may be removed, and

i'ust conceptions of the moral attributes of the
)eity promoted, must diminish the sum of human
misery, and add something to liuman happiness.
If therefore the acquisition of useful knowledge
respecting the laws and the economy of the uni-
verse would produce this effect, the more exten-
sively such information is propagated, the more
liappiuess will be diifused among mankind.

SECTION II.

On the utility of knowledge in preventing
diseases and fatal accidents.

It is a conclusion which has been deduced from
long experience, "that mankind in their opinions
and conduct are apt to run from one extreme to
another." We have already seen, that, in conse-
quence of false conceptions of the Deity, and
of his arrangements in the economy of nature,
the minds of multitudes have been alarmed by the
most unfounded apprehensions, and have been
"in great fear where no fear was." On the other
hand, from a similar cause, many have run heed-
lessly into danger and destruction, when a slight
acquaintance with the powers of nature, and the
laws of their operation, would have pointed out
the road to safety. This leads i ae to the illustra-
tion of another advantage which would bo derived
from a general diffusion of knowledge, — namely.

That it would tend to prevent manij of those dis-
eases and fatal accidents v-hichjlow from ignorance
of the laws which govern the operations of nature.

There are, indeed, several accidents to which
mankind are exposed, which no human wisdom
can foresee or prevent. Seing furnished with
faculties of a limited nature, and placed in the
midst of a scene where so many powerful and
complicated causes are in constant operation, we
are sometimes exposed, all on a sudden, to the ac-
tion of destructive causes, of which we were
Ignorant, or over which we have no control. —
Even although we could foresee a pestilence, a
famine, an earthquake, an inundation, or the
eruption of a volcano, we could not altogether
prevent the calamities which generally flow from
their destructive ravages. But, at the same time.
It may be affirmed with truth, that a great propor-
tion of the phj's'cal evils and accidents to which
the hunviu race is liable, ai-e the effects of a cul-
pable ignorance, and might be effectually pre-
vented, were useful knowledge more extensively
diffused. But it unfortunately happens, in almost
every instance, that the persons who are exposed
to the accidents to which I allude, are ignorant of
tlie means requisite for averting the danger. To
illustrate this point, I shall select a few examples,
und shall intersperse a few hints and maxims
for the consideration of those whom it may
toncern.

The first class of accidents to which I shall ad-

vert, comprises those which have happened from
ignorance of the nature and properties of the differ'
ent gases, and of the noxious effects which somo
of them produce on the functions of animal life.

We have frequently read in newspape^s ard
magazines, and some of us have witnessed, such
accidents as the follov/ing: — A man descends into
a deep well, which had for some time been shut
up. When he has gone down a considerable
way he suddenly lets go his hold of the rope or
ladder by which he descends, and drops to the
bottom in a state of insensibility, devoid of utter-
ance, and unable to point out the cause of his dis-
aster. Another hastily follows him, to ascertain
the cause, and to afford him assistance; but by
the time he arrives at the same depth he shares
the same fate. A third person, after some hesita-
tion, descends with more cautious steps. But he
soon begins to feel a certain degree of giddiness,
and makes haste to ascend, or is drawn up by as-
sistants. In the meantime, the uiiliappy persons
at the bottom of the well are frequently left to
remain so long in a state of suspended anima-
tion, that all means of restoration prove abortive;
and the cause of the disaster remains a mysteiy,
until some medical gentleman, or otiier person of
intelligence, be made acquainted with the circum-
stances of the accident. Similar accidents, owing
to the same cause, have happened to persons who
have incautiously descended into brewers' vats, or
who have entered precipitately into wine cellars and
vaults, which had been long shut up from the exter-
nal air, and where the process of fermentation was
going on: They have been suddenly struck down,
as by a flash of lightning; and, in some instances
the vital spark has been completely extinguished.
Many instances, too, could be produced, of work-
men, wlio have incautiously laid themselves down
to sleep in the neighborhood of lime-kilns where
they were employed, having, in a short time, slept
the sleep of death. The burning of charcoal in
close apartments has also proved fatal to many;
more especially when they- have retired to rest
in such apartments, while the charcoal was burn-
ing, and before tlie rooms had received a thorough
ventilation.

Numerous are the instances in which accidents
have happened, in the circumstances now stated,
and which are still frequently recurring; all which
might have been prevented had the following facts
been generally known and attended to: — That
there exists a certain species of air, termed fxed
air, or carbonic acid gas, which instantly extin-
guishes flame, and is destructive to animal life;
that it is found in considerable quantities in places
which have been shut up from the external atmo-
sphere,— .as in old wells, pits, caverns, and close
vaults; that it is copiously produced during the
fermentation of liquors in brewers' fats, where it
hovers above the surface of the liquor; in cellars
where wine and malt-liquors aro kept; and by tha
burning of lime and charcoal; and, that being
nearly twice as heavy as common air, it sinks to
the bottom of the place where it is produced.
The following plain liints are therefore all that is
requisite to be attended to, in irder to prevent the
recurrence of such disasters. Previous to enter-
ing a well or pit which has been long secluded
from the external air, let a lighted candle or taper
be sent down; if it contimies to burn at the bot-
tom there is no danger, for air that will support
flame, without an explosion, will also support ani-
mal life; but, should the taper be extinguished
before it reaches the bottom, it would be attended
with imminent danger to venture down until the
foul air be expelled. The noiious air may be de-

22

ON THE GENERAL DrFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

Btroyed by throwing down a quantity of jnick
lime, and graiiually sprinkling it with wafor; for
as tlie lime slakes it will absorb the niepliitii; air,
and a person may afterward descend in safety.
Where lime is not at hand, a bush, or such like
bulky substance, may be let down and drawn up
several times; or some buckets of water may be
thrown into it, until the air be so purified, that a
lighted taper will continue to burn at the bottom.
Tliese precautionary hints will apply to all tlie other
cases referred to, where this species of gas may hap-
pen to exist. To which I may also add, as another
hint, that in every situation where fixed air is sup-
posed to exist, it is more dangerous to sit or to lie
down, in such places, than to stand erect; for, as
this gas is the heaviest of all the gases, it occupies
the lowest place; and therefore, a person lying on
the ground may be sufFocated by it, while another
standing at his side would feel no injury, his
mouth being raised above the stratum of the nox-
ious fluid.* — I shall only remark farther on this
head, that several disorders have been contracted
by persons sleeping under the branches of trees
in the night-time, and in apartments where great
quantities of fruit, or other vegetable matter, are
kept, — from ignorance of the fact, that during the
night, the leaves of trees, and all vegetable mat-
ter, perspire a deleterious air, which, when it has
accumulated to a certain degree, may induce a
variety of serious complaints, and sometimes prove
fatal.

The flisasters trhich have happened in coal mines,
and other subterraneous apartments, form another
class of accidents, many of which have been the
effects of ignorance. Of late years an immense
number of men, boys, and horses, have been de-
stroyed by the explosion of inflammable air in the
coal mines in tliis country, particularly in the
north of England, where the most affecting and
tragical scenes have been presented to view. On
the forenoon of Monday, 25th May, lbl2, a
dreadful accident took place at Felling, near
Gatesliead, in the mine belonging to C. T. Brand-
ing, Esq. When nearly the wliole of the work-
men were below, — the second set having gone
down before the first had come up, — a double
blast of hydrogen gas took place, and set the
mine on fire, forcing up an immense volume of
smoke, which darkened the air to a considerable
distance, and scattered an immense quantity of
small coal from the upcast shaft. In this calami-
ty ninety-three men and boys perished. The
mine was obliged to be closed up on the following
Saturday, in order to extinguish the fire, which
put an end to all hopes of saving any of the
sufFerei-s. On the 6th of October, in the same
year, in the same county (Durham), a coal-pit.
at Sliiney F'lw, suddenly took fire, by explosion
of the inflaAiiable air; in consequence of which
seven persons were severely scorched. And on
the Saturday following (October lUtli), the Har-
rington Mill pit, distant from the other about two
or three hundred yards, also took fire; by which
four men and nineteen boys were killed on the
spot, and many people severely wounded and
burned, and two boys were missing. This dread-

* The grotto del Cani, a small cavern in Italy, about fonr
leagues from Naples, contains a stratum of carbonic acid
gas. It has been a CO rnmon practice to drive dogs into the
cavern, where they su Fer a temporary death, for the enter-
tainment of strangers. But a man enters with perfect safety,
and feels no particular inconvenience hy standing in it, be-
cause his mouth is considerably above the surface of the
stratum of deleterious air; but were he to lie down he
would be instantly suffocated. The same precaution may
also be useful in walking through certain caverns in our
•wn country.

ful catastrophe was likewise occasioned by the ex-
plosion of fire-damp.* The above are only two
or three examples of a variety of similar acci-
dents which have happened, of late years, in the
coal districts in the northern part of our island.
That all such accidents conid have been prevented
by means of the knowledge we have liithertv ac«
quired, would perhaps be too presumptuous to af-
firm; but that a great proportion of tiiem were the
efTects of ignorance on the part of the miners,
and might have been prcventi'd by a general
knowledge of the nature and causes of such ex-
plosions, and by taking proper precautionary
measures, there is every reason to believe. That
this is not a mere random assertion, will appear
from the following extract from the Montlily
Magazine for February, 1814, p. 80: — "Mr. Bake-
well, in his late lectures at Leeds, stated the fol-
lowing circumstance, which strongly evinces the
benefits which arise from educating the working
classes — that, in the coal districts of Northumber-
land and Durham, accidents are constantly taking
place from explosions in the mines; so that not
less than six hundred persons have been destroyed
in the last two years. But, in one of the mines
which was frequently subject to explosion, not an
accident of any consequence had taken place for
the last twelve years; the proprietors, beside other
precautions, having for a considerable time past
educated the children of the miners at their own
expense, and given them proper information respect-
ing the nature of the danger to be avoided.^'f

Were the working miners carefully instructed
in the nature and composition of the atmosphere,
and its chemical properties, and particularly in
the nature and composition of the different gases,
— were such instructions illustrated by a judicious
selection of chemical experiments, and were the
proper 'practical hints and precautions deduced
and clearly exhibited, there cannot be the least
doubt that it would be attended with numerous
beneficial results. When a person is ignorant of
the noxious principles that may be secretly ope-

* See Monthly Magazine, vol. xxxiii, p. 580, and vol.
xxxiv, p. 400.

t This section of the present work was written in 1S16,
and the facts referred to in it happened within three or four
years of tliat date. Since that period Sir Humphrey Davy's
ingenious contrivance, called tlie safety lamp, has been in-
vented, by means of which, we have every reason to be-
lieve, many accidents in conl mines have been prevented,
and many lives preserved from destruction. The peculiat
property of this lamp is, that the miner may move about with
it, and even work l)y its light in the midst of those explo-
sive mixtures which liave so often j)roved fat;0 when entered
with a common lamp or a candle. It transmits its light,
and is fed with air, through a cylinder of copper wire-gauze.
The apertures in the gauze are about one-twentieth or
one-twenty-fifth of an inch square, ani the thickness of the
wire from one-fortieth to one-sixtieth of an inch diameter.
The parts of the lump are: — 1. The brass cistern wliich con
tain-s the oil. 2. The rim in which the wire-gauze cover is
fixed, and which is fastened to the cistern by a moveable
screw. 3. An aperture for supplying oil, fitted with a screw
or cork, and a central aperture for the wick. 4. Tlie wire-
gauze cylinder, which consists of at least 62.5 apertures to
the square inch. 5. A second top, three-fourths of an inch
above the first, surmounted by a brass or copper plate, to
which the ring of suspension is fixed. 6. Four or six thick
vertical wires, joining the cistern below with the top plate,
and serving as protecting pillars round the cage.

When the wire-gauze safety lamp is lighted and intro-
duced into an atmosphere gradually mixed with fire-damp,
the first effect of the fire-d:imp is to increase the length and
size of the flame. When the inflammable gas forms one-
twelfth of the volume of the air, the cylinder becomes filled
with a feeble blue flame, hut the flame of the wick ajipears
burning brightly witliin the blue flame, and the light of the
wick increases, until the fire-damp increases to one-fifth,
when it is lost in the flame of the fire-damp, which fills the
cylinder with a pretty strong light. As long as any explo-
sive mixture of gas exists in contact with the lamp, so Ions
will it give its light, and when it is extinguished, whio*
happens when 'he ibul air constitutes one-third of th«

PREVENTION OF DISEASES AND ACCIDENTS.

23

rating within the sphere of his labors, he will
frequently rush heedlessly vvitiun the limits ol'
danger; whereas, a man who is thoroughly ap-
quaiutt'd with all the variety of causes which may
possibly bo in a(,tion around him, will proceed in
every step with judgment and caution, and, where
danger is apparent, will hasten iiis retreat to a
place of safety.

Tlie injuries lohich are produced by the stroke of
lightnUKj form another class of accidents which are
frequently owing to ignorance. It is still to be je-
grcttod, that, notwithstanding the discoveries of
mod^rn philosophy, respecting the electric fluid
and the laws of its operation, no thunderguard ha.<
yet been invented, which, in all situations, wheth-
er in the house, in the street, in the open field, in
a carriage, or on horseback, shall serve as a com-

Eleto protection from the ravages of lightning,
^ntil some contrivance of this kind be etlected, it
is probable that the human race will still be oc-
casionally subjected to accidents from electrical
storms. Such accidents are more numerous and
fatal, even in our temperate climate, than is gen-
erally imagined. From an induction of a vari^'ty
of facts of this kind, as stated in the public papers
and other periodical works, in the year ISll, the
author ascertained that more than twenty persons
were killed by lightning, or at the rate of a thou-

volnme of the atmosphere, the air is no longer proper for
respiration, for thoug' ^nimal life will continue where flame
is eitiuguiihed, yet iv is always with suflering.

DAVY'S SAFETY LAMP.

The following are the principal parts of the safety l.imp:
F is the lamp throwinj; up a brilliant flame. C is the reser-
voir, supplied with oil by the tube M. E E is a frame of
thick wire to protect the wire-gauze, A A A A, which has a
double top (i II. The frame has a ring P attached to it for
the convenience of carrying it. The wire-gauze is well fas-
tened to the rim B.

Notwithstanding the utility of this invention, such is the
carelessness and apathy of the working miners, that they
either neglect to use their safety lamps, or to attend to the
means requisite to keep them in order, — which carelessness
and apathy are the etfects of that gross ignorance into whi;li
so many of them are sunk. Hence we find, that seldom
• year passes in which ive do not hear of destructive ex-
BJosions liappening in our coal mines, particularly in
England.

sand persons every fifty years, during the summer
months of that year, within the limits of our
Island; beside the violent shocks experienced by
others, which did not immediately prove fatal,
and the damage occasioned to sheep and cattle,
and to public and private edifices; and it is worthy
of notice, that most of the individuals who were
killed by the lightning had either taken shelter
under trees, or were in situations adjacent to bells
or bell-wires. The experience of succeeding
years proves that a similar number of disasters of
this kind annually take place. It Ls, however,
more than probable, that at least half the number
of accidents arising from the same cause miglit
have been averted, had the nature of lightning,
and the laws which regulate its movements, been
generally known. Seldom a year passes but we
are informed by the public prints of some person
or other having been killed by lightning, when
taking shelter under a large tree, — of whole fam-
ilies liaving been struck down when crowding
around a fire-place, during a thunder-storm, — ol
one person having been struck when standing be-
side a bell-wire, and another while standing under
a bell connected with the wire, or under a luster
hanging from the ceiling.

There can be little doubt, that a considerable
number of such accidents would have been pre-
vented, had the following facts respecting the na-
ture of lightning been extensively known: — That
lightning is a fluid of the same nature, and is di-
rected in its motions by the same laws which reg-
ulate the motions of the electric fluid in our com-
mon electrical machines; — that it is attracted and
conducted by trees, water, moisture, flame, and
all kinds of metallic "Substances; — that it is most
disposed to strike high and pointed objects; and
that, therefore, it must be dangerous to remain
connected with, or in the immediate neighborhood
of, such objects when a thunder-cloud is passing
near the earth.

Hence the following precautionary maxims have
been deduced, by attending to which the personal
accidents arising from thunder-storms might be in
a great measure prevented. In the open air, dur-
ing a storm, rivers, pools, and every mass of water,
even the streamlets arising from a recent shower
should be avoided, because water being an excel-
lent conductor, might determine the course of an
electrical discharge toward a person in contact
with it, or in its immeliate neighborhood. All
high trees and similar elevated conductors should
also be avoided, as they are in more danger of be-
ing struck than objects on the ground; and, there-
fore, a person in contact with them exposes him-
self to imminent danger, should the course of the
lightning lie in that direction. But, to take our
station at the distance of thirty or forty paces
from such objects, or, at such a distance as may
prevent us from being injured by the splinters of
wood, should the tree be struck, is more se-
cure than even in the midst of an open plain.
Persons in a house not provided with liglitning-
rods, should avoid sitting near a chimney or fire-
place, whether there be a fire in the grate or no$.
For when there is a fire in the grate, the fire con-
tains the following conductors, — aflame, smoke,
rarefied air, and soot. Even when there is no fire,
the soot with which the flue is lined is a conduct-
or; and from the superior bight of the chimney-
shaft above every other part of the building, it is
more liable than any other part of the house to be
struck with lightning. In a house, too, gilt mir-
rors or picture-frames, lusters or burning candles,
bell-wires, and all metallic substances, should be
carefully avoided, as they aftbrd so many points of

24

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

attraction, whicl > «ght determine the course of I three hundred years. But were an additional
an electric discharge. The safest position is in erection, of any considerable elevau/^n to be
the midule ot the rooni, if not near a luster, a hell, placed upon its top, it would undoubtedly soon
or anything iiangmg from the ceiling; and if we tumble into ruins,
place the chair on which we sit on a bed or mat-
tress, almost every possible danger may be avoid-
ed.* Such are a few maxims easy to be recollect-
ed and put in practice, by attending to which, not
a few accidents from electrical explosions might
be averted.

In the next place, various accidents have happen-
ed from if/norance of certain plain mechanical prin-
ciples, t'or example, serious accidents have some-
tunes occurred from the want of acquaintance
witli the iaics of motion. Persons have heedless-
ly jumped out of moving vehicles, and got their
legs and arms sprained or dislocated, and from one
^oat to another wlien both were in rapid motion,
jind run the risk of being either bruised, drenched,
or drowned. But had the eftects of compound mo-
tion been generally known and attended to, in
those cases wiiere it occurs, it would have pre-
vented many of those accidents wliich have hap-
pened from persons rashly jumping out of carri-
ages when in rapid motion, or attempting to jump
from the top of a moving cylinder, in which cases
they are always precipitated with violence in a
direction different from what they expected, from
the obvious effects of a combination of forces.
Boats and carriages have been sometimes overset
by persons rising hastily when they were in dan-
ger of such accidents, — from ignorance of the prin-
ciple, that the center of gravity of the moving
vehicle, by such a practice, is raised so as to en-
danger the line of direction being thrown beyond
the base, when the vehicle must, of course, be
overturned; whereas, had they clapped down to
the bottom, they would have brought down the
line of direction, and consequently the center of
gravity, farther within the base, so as to have pre-
vented the accident and secured their safety. The
reason of this will perhaps more ploinlj^ appear
ijrom the following explanations: — The center of

To a somewhat similar cause, in CDmbination
with heedlessness and ignorance, may be ascribed
many of those accidents which so frequently
happen tit spinning mills and other pieces of ma-
chinery, by which legs and arms are torn asunder,
and the human frame sometimes mangled and
I destroyed.

Fatal accidents have likewise happened from
^racitij is that point of a body about which all its '■ ignorance of the effects produced hy the refraction of
■«rts are in equilibrio, or balance each other; and I I'ffht. It is a well-known optical fact, that when
consequently, if this point be supported, the whole a ray of light passes frc-^ air into water, and is
jody will be at rest, and cannot fall. An imagin- again refracted, the sine of the angle of incidence
arj- line drawn from the center of gravity of any | is in pr/)portion to the sine of tlie angle of refrac-
'■■ody toward the center of the earth is called the tion as four to three. From this circumstance it
line of direction. Bodies stand with firmness up- happens, that pools and rivers appear shallower
on their bases, when this line falls unthin the base; than they really are — their channels, when viewed
but if the line of direction falls icithoiit the base, from their brink, being apparently higher than

the body will be overturned. Thus, the inclin-
tag body ABCD, whose center of gravity is E,
stands firmly on its base CDKF, because the line
of direction EM falls within the base. But if a
weight, as ABGH, be laid upon the top of the
body, the center of gravity of the whole body and
weight together is raised up to I ; and then as the
line of direction ID falls without the base at D,
the center of gravity I is not supported, and the
whole body and weight 'must tumble down to-
gether.

The tov/er of Pisa, in Italy, leans sixteen feet
out of the perpendicular, so that strangers are
afraid to pass under it; but as the plummet or
line of direction falls within its base or foundation,
it is in no danger of falling, if its materials keep
together; and hence it has stood in this state for

their true position, in the proportion of three to
four; so that a river eight feet deep will appear
from its bank to he-, only six. This fact may be
at any time perceived in a tub or pail full of wa-
ter, where the bottom of the vessel will obviously
appear to be raised a considerable space above ita
true position, and its apparent depth consequently
diminished. In consequence of this optical illu-
sion, which is not generally known, many a tra-
veler as well as many a school- boy has lost his
life, by sujiposing the bottom of a clear river to
be within his depth, as, when he stands on the
bank, the bottom will appear one-fourth nearer
the surface than it really is.

This will appear evident from the following il-
lustrations:— If a ray of light AC passes obliqm.ly
from air into water, instead of continuing its
course in the direct line CB, it takes the direction
CH, and approaches the perpendicular PP, in
such a manner, that the angle of refraction PCII,
is less than its angle of incidence EGA. A E is

tiiponsonf n ;,(„,„,„„..•„,•.» „. „.!,„„ .!.„' 1 1. ' thc stflc of thc auglc of incidence, and HP the

me ca^e ot a returning stme, oi v, hen the lislitnine pro- . r- .-, , r r .■ i i

ceeds frorr. the earth, it is kiis secure than the higher part? ^•"<' 0' t"^ «"&''-' O' refraction; and the proportion

•f the building. ] they bear to each other is as four to three. If a

* It has been generalty thonght that the cellar is the most
Becure situation during a thnnder-storm, bnttliis is tnie only
in certain cases. When the lightning proceeds from the
clouds, it isunijries'icaably the most -ecure position; but in

PREVENTION OF DISEASES AND ACCIDENTS.

25

Knall body, therefore, were placed at H and
viewed from the point A, it would appear as if it
were raised to the point B, or one-fourth higher
than it really is.

This may be further illustrated by the follow-
ing common experiment Put a shilling into the
bottom of an empty basin, at C, and walk back-
ward until it appear completely hid by the inter-
ception of the edge of the basin; then cause wa-
ter to be poured into the basin, and the shilling
will instantly appear as if placed at the point D;
for, being now in a denser rhedium, it appears
raised, or nearer to its surface. Before the water
was poured in, the shilling could not be seen
where it ictis; now it is seen vhere it is not. It is
not the eye that has changed its place, but the ray
of light has taken a new direction, in passing
from the water to the eye, and strikes the eye as
if it came from the piece of money. This expe-
riment may be varied as follows; — Take an empty
basin, and, along the diameter of its bottom, fix
marks at a small distnuce from each other, then
take it into a dark room, and let in a ray of light;
and where this falls upon the floor, place the ba-
sin, so that its marked di uneter may point to-
ward the window, and so that the beam may fall
on the mark most distant from the window.
This done, fill the basin with water, and the
beam which before fell upon the most distant
mark, will now, by the refractive power of the
water, be turned out of its straight course, and
will fall two or threa or more marks nearer the
center of the basin.

It is owing to the circumstance now stated,
that an oar partly in and partly out of the water
appears broken ; that objects appear distorted
When seen through a crooked pane of glass; that
a fish in the water appears much nearer the sur-
face than it actually is; and that a skillful marks-
man, in shooting at it, must aim considerably
below the place which it seems to occupy. It is
owing to the refractive power of the atmosphere,
thut the sun is seen before he rises above the hori-

zon in the morning, and after he sinks benerlh it
in the evening; that we sometimes see the moon,
on her rising, totally eclipsed, while the sun is
still seen in the opposite part of the horizon; and
that the stars and planets aro never seen in tho
places where they really are, except when they
are in the zenith, or point directly over our head.

Many alfecting and fatal accidents have liap-
peiied, and are frequently recurring, particularly
to children, ai d females in the higher ranks of
life, /ro?tt their clothes catchiii() fire, most of which
might be prevented, were the two following snn-
ple facts universally known and pruclicully ap-
plied, thatjlaine has a tendency to mount upward;
and that air is essentially requisite for supporting it.
When the clothes of females take lire, as the fire
generally begins at the lower parts of their dress,
so long as they continue in an upright posture
tlie flames naturally ascend, and meeting with
additional fuel as they rise, become more power-
ful in proportion; whereby the neck, the head,
and other vital parts of the body are liable to be
most injured; and, by running from one part of
the room to another, or from one apartment to
another, as is most frequently the case, the air
which is the fuel of fire, gains free access to ev-
ery part of their apparel, and feeds the increasing
flame. In &uch cases, the sufferer should in-
stantly throw her clothes over her head, and roll
or lie upon them, in order to prevent the ascent
of the flames and the access of fresh air. When
this cannot conveniently be effected, she may still
avoid great agony, and save her life, by throwing
herself at full length on the floor, and rolling her-
self thereon. Though this method may not, in
every case, completely extinguish the flame, it
will to a certainty retard its progress, and prevent
fatal injury to the vital parts. When assistance
is at hand, the by-standers should immediately
wrap a carpet, a hearth-rug, a great coat, or a
blanket, around the head and body of the sufferer,
who should be laid in a recumbent position, which
will prove a certain preventive from danger.
During the year 1813, the author noted down
more than ten instances, recorded in the public
prints, of females who were burned to death by
their clothes catching fire, all of which might
have been prevented, had the simple expedients
now stated been resorted to and promptly apjjlied.

It may be remarked, in the next place, that
many of the diseases to which inankind are subject —
particularly fevers, small-pox, and other infec-
tious disorders — might be prevented by the diff'u-
sion of knowledge in relation to their nature,
their causes, and the means of prevention. It
cannot have been overlooked, in the view of the
intelligent observer, that fevers and other infec-
tious disorders generally spread with the greatest
facility and make the most dreadful havoc among
the lower orders of society. This is owing, in
part, to the dirty state in which their houses are
kept, every part of which affords proper materials
for the production and detention of pestilential
effluvia, and their ignorance of the importance of
pure atmospherical air to animal life, and the con-
sequent necessity of daily ventilating their apart-
ments. It is also owing in a great measure to
the custom of persons crowding into the cham-
bers of those who are laboring under such infec-
tious diseases, and thereby not only increasing
the strength of the infectious virus, but absorb-
ing a portion of it in their own bodies, to spread
its baleful influence in a wider circle. Such
conduct frequently proceeds from a want of con-
viction of the infectious nature of such disorders,
and from ignorance of the rapid manner in which

26

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

they are sometimes communicated from one to
aiiotlier, as well as from tliat obstinacy and from
those inveterate prejudices which are always the
accoinpaninients of ignorance. Tiiough the cow-
pox inociilution has been proved by experience to
be an eMectual preventive of that loathsome and
often fital disorder, the small-pox, yet numbers
in the lower ranks of life cannot yet be persuaiied
to use this simple preventive, and will rather run
the risk of experiencing all its disagreeable and
dangerous etfects both on their own persons and
on those of their ollspring. Their obstinate pre-
judices, in this and similar respects, are increased
by their false views and reasonings respecting the
doctrine of the divine decrees, and the providence
of the Almighty. They imagine, that to induce
one species of disease for the prevention of an-
other is attempting to take the government of the
world out of the hands of tlie Creator, and that
no means of preventing disorders can be of any
avail, if the Deity has otherwise decreed; not
considering that the Almighty governs the world
he has created by regular and invariable laws,
and accomplishes his decrees through the inter-
vention of those secondary causes, both natural
and moral, which are continually operating in
the pliysical and intellectual world. Were gene-
ral knowledge more extensively diffused, and the
minds of the multitude habituated to just princi-
ples and modes of reasoning, such fallacious views
and opinions would be speedily dissipated, and
consequently those physical evils and disorders
which they produce would be in a great measure
prevented.

Again, to ignorance we must likewise attribute,
in a great measure, the pernicious effects of conta-
minated air in dwellinp-hoiises. Pure air is as essen-
tially requisite to the health and vigor of the ani-
mal system as wholesome food and drink. When
contaminated by staguation, by breathing, by
fires or caudles, it operates as a slow poison, and
gi-adually undermines the human constitution;
yet nothing is less attended to in the economy of
health by the great majority of mankind. Be-
cause air is au invisible substance, and makes lit-
tle impression on the organs of sense, they seem
to act as if it had no existence. Hence we find,
that no attention is paid by the lower orders of
society to the proper ventilation of their apart-
ments. In some cases, the v/indows of their
houses are so fixed in the walls as to be incapable
of being opened; and in other cases, where the
windows are movable, they are seldom opened,
except by accident, for weeks and months to-
gether; and were it not that a door and a chim-
ney are to be found in every habitable apartment,
the air would be rendered in many instances ab-
Bolutely unfit for respiration. Crowds of tailors,
weavers, shoemakers, and other mechanics, em-
ployed in sedentary occupations, are frequently
pent up in close, and sometimes damp apart-
ments, from morning until evening, without ever
thinking of opening their windows for a single
half hour for the admission of fresh air; and con-
sequently, are continually breatliing an atmo-
sphere highly impregnated with the noxious gas
emitted from the lungs, and the effluvia perspired
from their bodies, which is most sensibly felt by
its hot sulfocating smell, when a person from the
open air enters into such apartments. The sal-
low complexion o<^ such persons plainly indicates
the enervating' effects produced by the air they
breathe; and although its pernicious effects may
not be sensibly felt, it gradually preys upon their
constitutions, and often produces incurable asth-
mas, fevers, consumptions, and other dangerous

disorders, which are frequently impiited to othef
causes. Nothing is more easy than to open the
windows of an apartment, and other apertures
that communicate with the external air, at meal
hours, wlien the room is empty, in order to expel
the contaminated air, and admit the pure vital
fluid. No medicine or restorative is cheaper or
of more importance to health and vigor than pure
atmospherical air; yet, because it costs nothing,
it is little regarded. Hints and admonitions in
reference to this point are seldom attended to;
for ignorance is always proud and obstinate, i.nii
the inconveniences supposed, in certain cases, to
flow from the practice of ventilating particular
apartments are seldom attempted to be remedied
It is, therefore, presumed, that were a knowledge
of the nature of the atmosphere, of the ingredi-
ents that enter into its composition, of its indis-
pensable necessity for the support aid invigora-
tron of animal life, of the circumstances by which
it is deteriorated, and of the baneful effects which
are produced bj' its contamination, more widely
ditfused, its use and importance would be more
duly appreciated, and the disorders which flow
from the circumstances now stated effectually
prevented.*

Much benefit might also be conferred, were
a knoiclcdqe of the means of restoring suspended
animation, in cases of drowning, strangulation,
&,c., generally disseminated. As prompt mea-
sures in such cases are absolutely necessary,
many fatal effects have happened from the delay
occasioned by medical assistance having been at
a distance; which might have been prevente'i,
had the proper means of resuscitation been known
and immediately resorted to by the persons pre-
sent at such a juncture. Were the nature and
importance of the function of peispiration gene-
rally known and attended to, it might likewise
be the means of preventing those diseases and
disasters which flow from making sudden tran-
sitions from heat to cold, which are the origin of
many fatal disorders among the laboring classes.
If a man is thoroughly convinced that more than
the one-half of what he eats and drinks is thrown
off by insensible perspiration, he will at once see
the importance of avoiding every practice and
every circumstance which has a tendency to ob-
struct the operations of this important function.

The last example I shall mention, though not
of the least importance, is the fatal efiects pro-
duced by ignorance of the proper mode of treating
children during the first stages of infancy. It is a
fact deduced from the annual registers of the
dead, that one-half the number of children born,
die under seven years of age. This extraordinary
mortality is universally imputed, by medical wri-
ters, to wrong management during the first and
second years of their infancy, and the practice of
giving anodyne aromatic medicines. Instead of
clothing infants in such a manner as to give free
scope for the exercise of all the vital functions.

* The following fact shows, in an impressive manner, thf»
danger arising from the want of a free circulation and fre-
quent change of air. " In the lying-in hospital of Dublin,
two thousand nine hundred and forty-four infants, out of
seven thousand six hundred and fifty, died in the year 1782,
within the first fortnight from theu birth. They almost all
expired in convulsions; many foamed at the mouth; theii
thumbs were drawn into the palms of their hands; their jawf
were locked: their faces swelled; and they presented, in a
greater or less degree, every appearance of sufTocation.
This last circumstance at last produced an in()uiry whethes
the rooms were not too close and insufficiently ventilateo
The apartments of the hospital were rendered more airr.;
and the consequence has been, that the oroportion of deathi,
according to the registers of succeeding years, is diminished
from three to one."

PREVENTION OF DISEASES AND ACCIDENTS.

27

as soon as they are ushered into the world, the
midwives and oificious matrons frequently vie
with each other to improve upon nature, hy at-
tempting to model the head and to strengthen the
limbs by the application of fillets, rollers, and
ewaddling-bands, of several yards in length; thus
loading and binding them with clothes equal to
their own weight, to the manifest injury of the
motions of their bov.'els, lungs, limbs, and other
animal functions. Insteaa of covering the head
with a thin single cap, and keeping the extremi-
ties in a moderate degree of warmth, an op^)0.•^ite
course is most frequently pursued, wliich is sup-
posed to be one among the many existing causes
of hydrocephalus or water in the brain. Instead
of allowing the first milk that is secreted, which
nature has endowed with a purgative quality, to
Btimulate the bowels, it is a common practice,
'' immediately on the birth of a child, to administer
a variety of purgative medicines in close succes-
eion, "as if," says a modern writer, "to prove
that it has arrived in a world of physic and of
evils." Instead of being exposed to the invigo-
rating effects of 2)ure air, and kept in a moderate
degree of temperature, they are too frequently
confined to a hot contaminated atmosphere, which
relaxes their solids, impedes their respiration, and
frequently induces fatal convulsions.* These
are but a few examples out of many which could
be produced of the improper treatment of chil-
dren, from which multitudes of painful com-
plaints and dangerous disorders derive their ori-
gin. It is therefore reasonable to believe, that
were general information on such topics exten-
sively disseminated, and a more rational mode of
nurture during the first years of infancy adopted,
not only fatal disorders, but many subsequent
diseases in life, might either be wholly prevented,
or at least greatly mitigated.

We have likewise reason to conclude, that a
general dissemination of knowledge, by directing
the mind to intellectual enjoyments, and lessen-
ing the desire for sensual pleasures, would lead to
habUs of sohriciy and temperance. Intemperance
has perhaps been productive of more diseases,
misery, and fatal accidents, than all the other
causes I have now specified. It has benumbed
the intellectual faculties, debased the affections,
perverted the moral powers, degraded man below
the level of the brutes, and has carried along with
it a train of evils destructive to the happiness of
families, and to the harmony and order of social
life. Wlierever intemperance prevails, a barrier
is interposed to every attempt for raising man
from the state of moral and intellectual degrada-
tion into which he has sunk, and for irradiating
his mind with substantial knowledge. But were
the mind in early life imbued with a relish for
knowledge and mental enjoj'ments, it would tend
to withdraw it from those degrading associations
and pursuits which lead to gluttony, debauchery,
and drunkenness, and consequently prevent those
diseases, accidents, and miseries, which invaria-
bly follow in their train. As the human mind is
continually in quest of happiness of one descrip-
tion or another, so umltitudes of the young and
Inexperienced have been led to devote themselves
to the pursuit of sensual pleasures as their chief
and ultimate object, because they have no con-
ception of enjoyment from any other quarter,

• See the preceding note.

and are altogether ignorant of the refined gratifi-
cation which flows from intellectual pursuits.
In the prosecution of knowledge, the rational
faculties are brought into exercise, and sharpened
and invigorated; and when reason begins to hold
the ascendency over the desires and atTectioiis,
there is less danger to be apprehended that tho
mind will ever be completely subjected to ths
control of the sensitive appetites of our nature.

I might also have stated, that many physical
evils might be prevented, were mankind at large
acquainted with the characteristics of poisonous
plants; — the means of detecting mineral poisons,
and the mode of counteracting their effects; — the
proper mode of extinguishing lires, and of effect-
ing an escape, in cases of danger, from that/ ele-
ment;— the precautions requisite to be attended to in
the management of steam-engines,* &lc., &,c. But.
as a minute acquaintance with some of these sub-
jects supposes a greater degree of knowledge than
could reasonably be expected in the general mass
of society, I shall not further enlarge. The few
examples I have selected will, it is presumed, be
suflicient to prove and illustrate the position taken
in the beginning of this section, "that knowledge
would, in many cases, prevent dangers, diseases,
and fatal accidents." If it be admitted, that sev-
eral hundreds of persons are annually destroyed
by noxious gases, by the explosionsof fire-damp in
coal-mines, by the stroke of lightning, by their
clothes catching fire, and other accidents; and that
several thousands are, during the same period,
carried off by infectious diseases, and by those
diseases which are the efiects of contaminated air,
and an improper mode of treatment during the
first stages of infancy; and if a general diffusion
of knowledge respecting the principles and facts
adverted to above would have a tendency to pre-
vent one-half the number of such physical evils
as now happen, it will follow, that several hun-
dreds, if not thousands, of useful lives might an-
nually be presented to the community, and a great
proportion of human suffering prevented; and if
so, the cause of humanity, eis well as of science,
is deeply interested in the general diftusion of use-
ful knowledge among persons of every nation,
and of every rank.

In the conclusion of this topic, it may be re-
marked, that the knowledge requisite for the pur-
pose now specified is of easy acquisition. It
requires no peculiar strength or superiority of
genius, nor long and intricate trains of abstract
reasoning; but is capable of being acquired by
any person possessed of common sense, when his
attention is once thoroughly directed to its acqui-
sition. As the food of the body which is the
most salutary and nourishing is the most easily pro-
cured, so that kind of knowledge which is the most
beneficial to mankind at large, is in general the
most easily acquired. Its acquisition would not
in the least interfere with the performance of
their regular avocations, as it could all be ac-
quired at leisure hours. It would habituate them
to rational reflections and trains of thought, and
gradually unfold to their view new and interest-
ing objects of contemplation. It would have a
tendency to prevent them from spending their
hours of leisure in folly or dissipation, and
would form an agreeable relaxation, from the
severer duties of active life.

• See Appendix, No. VTU.

28

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE

SECTION III.

On the inkluknce which a general diffusion
of knowledge would have on the progress
of general science.

Wk have already seen, tliat the diffusion of
knowledge among the general mass of societj'
would eradicate those false and superstitious opiu-
ions which have so long degraded the human in-
tellect, would introduce just conceptions of the
attributes of the Deity, and of his operations in
the system of nature, and would avert, or at
least greatly mitigate, many of those phj'sical
evils to which the human race has been subjected.
Altiiough these were the only advantages to be
derived from the general dissemination of know-
ledge, they would be sufilcient to warrant every
exertion which the friends of science and of hu-
manity can make to accomplish such an impor-
tant object. But these are only a few of the
many beneficial results which would, doubtless,
flow from the progress of rational investigations
and scientific pursuits, luiowledge, in its pro-
gress through the general mass of society, and
among the various tribes of mankind, could not
long remain confined witliiu its present bounda-
ries, but would, in all probability, enlarge its cir-
cumference nearly in proportion to the extent of
its diffusion. The man of erudition and of sci-
ence, who now exerts his influence and his talents
to enlighten tlie minds of his fellow-men, would be
laying a foundation for the expansion of his own
intellectual views, and of those of his successors
in the same pursuits, in future generations. As a
small body of snow, by rolling, gradually accu-
mulates to a large mass, so that portion of know-
ledge we already possess, in its progress through
the various ranks of mankind, would have its
volume increased, and its present boundaries ex-
tended, so that new scenes of intellectual vision
and enjoyment would be continually opening to
the view. In accordance with these views, I
shall now proceed to illustrate the position,

That a general diffusion of knowledge would tend
to the rapid advancement of universal science.

We are placed in the midst of a scene where a
vast multiplicity of objects solicits our attention.
Whether we look around on the surface of the
earth, or penetrate into its bowels, or turn our
eyes upward to the surrounding atmosphere and
the vault of heaven, we perceive an immense va-
riety of beings, celestial and terrestrial, animated
and inanimated, continually varying their aspects
and positions, all differing from each other in cer-
tain points of view, yet connected together by
various relations c^d resemblances.

Science, in the most general and extensive sense
of the term, consists in a perception of the re-
semblances and differences, or the relations which
these objects have to one another. To ascertain
the almost infinite number of relations which
subsist among the immense variet\' of objects
which compose the material and intellectual uni-
verse, requires an immense multitude of obser-
vations, comparisons, and deductions to be made
by a vast number of observers placed in various
circumstances and positions; or, in other words,
the discovery of an immense number of facts. All
Ecieuce may therefore be considered as founded
on facts; and perhaps there would be few excep-
tions to the truth of the position, were we to as-
sert, that the moat sublime truths and deductions,
in every science, when stripped of all their adven-
titious circumstances, simplified, and expressed in
the plainest and most perspicuous terms, may be

reduced to so many facts. This position might
be illustrated, were it necessary, by an induction
of particulars from the various branches of math-
ematical and physical science. That 'a whole is
greater than any of its parts," — that "the square
described on the hypotenuse of a right-angled
triangle is equal to the sum of the squares de-
scribed on its remaining sides," are facts, the one
deduced from observation or simple intuition, the
other from a series of comparisons. That the
sun is the center, around which the planetary
bodies revolve, — that a projectile describes a para-
bolic curve, — that the velocities of falling bodies
are in proportion to the spaces run over, — tiiat
fluids press in all directions, — that the pressure of
the atmosphere will support a column of water
to the higlit of above tliirty feet, — that the elas-
tic spring of the air is equivalent to the force
which compresses it, — that the angle of incidence
of a ray of light is equal to the angle of reflection, —
that the north pole of one magnet will attract the
south pole of another, — that the air we breathe is
a composition of oxygen and nitrogen; and a va-
riety of similar truths, — are facts, deduced either
from simple observation and experiment, or from
a comparison of a series of phenomena and ex-
periments with each other. Now, every compa-
rison we make between two or more objects or
ideas, is an act of the mind affirming a resem-
blance or a disagreement between the objects
compared; which affirmation, if deduced from a
clear view of the objects presented to the mind or
senses, is the declaration of a fact.

If tlie above sentiments are just, it will follow,
that every person possessed of an ordinary share
of understanding, and whose organs of sensation
are in a sound state, is capable of acquiring all
the leading truths of the most useful sciences,
since he enjoys the senses and faculties requisite
for the observation of facts, and for comparing
them with one another. And if such a person is
capable of receiving into his mind truths already
ascertained, he is also, for the same reason, quali-
fied for discovering new truths or facts, provided
he be placed in such circumstances as shall have
a tendency to present the objects of his pursuit
in the clearest point of view; that he have an op-
portunity of surveying them on all sides, and
that his attention be firmly riveted on the several
aspects and relations. " That one man, therefore,
excels another in these respects, is chiefly owing
to his mind being more particularly directed to the
contemplation of certain objects and relations,
and l)is mental faculties concentrated upon them.
When a person, devoted to scientific investigation,
discovers a new fact, it is not, in the majority of
instances, because he possesses powers of intel-
lect and organs of sensation superior to the ordi-
nary endowments of humanity, but because he
was placed in different circumstances, and had
his attention directed to different objects, and
was thus enabled to perceive relations and com-
binations which had been either unnoticed by
others, or which were placed beyond the range of
their observation. Genius, then, which is gene-
rally attributed to such characters, may be con-
sidered as consisting in a concentration ol the
rays of intellect upon any particular object, art,
or science, arising from a lively taste we feel for
that particular study. It may be compared to a
burning lens, where the scattered rays of light
are rendered powerful by being collected into a
point.

In so far, then, as we are able to direct fha
faculties of the mind — however moderate a degree
of vigor they may possess — to the fixed contem-

ON THE PROMOTION OF SCIENCE.

29

plation of scientific objects, in so far mav we ex-
pect that now relations will be discovered, and
new truths elicited. Sir Isaac Newton was one
day asked, "How he had discovered the true sys-
tem of the universe?" Ho replied, "Ey con-
tinually thinking upon it." He was frequently
heard to dec'are, that "if he had done the world
any service, .t was due to nothing but industrij
and patient thowjht, that he kept the subject under
consideration constantly before him, and waited
until the first dawning opened gradually, by
little and little, into a full and clear light." Had
this illustrious philosopher been born of barbarous
parents in the wilds of Africa, — had he been
placed in circumstances widely diticrent from
those in which he actually existed, or had not his
attention, by some casual occurrence, been di-
rected to the grand object which he accomplished,
in all prooability, his mind would never have
ranged through the celestial regions, nor have
discovered the laws of the planetary motions.

Many important scientific facts require only a
certain combination of circumstances to bring
them to the view of any common observer. To
discover the phases of the planet Venus, the satel-
lites of Jupiter, and the elliptical figure of Saturn,
after the telescope was invented, required no un-
common powers either of vision or of intellect in
Galileo, who first brought these facts to view, how-
ever superior the faculties he actually posspssed.
It only required, that he had a previous knowledge
of the existence of these planetary bodieft, that
his mind was interested in the extension of sci-
ence, and that he foresaw a probability that new
and interesting facts might be discovered by direct-
ing his newly invented instrument to the starry re-
gions. And when once he had descried from his
observatory such new celestial wonders, every
other person whose organs of vision were not im-
paired, with a similar tube, jnight discover the
same objects. Yet, for want of the qualifications
which Galileo possessed, the telescope might have
long remained in the hands of thousands before
Buch discoveries had been made; and it is a fact,
that though the telescope was in use a considera-
ble time before Galileo made his discoveries, no
person had previously thought of directing it to
the planets; at any rate, no discoveries had been
made by it in the heavens.

The discovery of new truths in the sciences,
therefore, is not, in most instances, to be ascribed
to the exertions of extraordinary powers of intel-
lect; but, in a great majority of cases, to the pe-
culiar series of events that may occur in the case
cf certain individuals, to the various circumstances
and situations in which they may be placed, to
the different aspects in which certain objects may
be presented to their view, and sometimes to cer-
tain casual hints or occurrences which directed
their attention to particular objects. A specta-
cle-maker's boy, by an accidental experiment, led
to the invention of the telescope; the remark of
a fountain-player, who observed that water could
rise only to thirty-two feet in the tubes of a for-
cing engine, led Galileo to calculate the gravity
of the air. Newton's attention was first tlirected
to a profound research into the laws of falling bo-
dies, by the circumstance of an apple falling upon
the head, as he was sitting under a tree in his gar-
den, which led to the discovery of the grand prin-
ciple which unites the great bodies of the uni-
verse The well-known Mr. James Ferguson,
author of several popular treatises on astronomy
and mechanical philosophy, invented a system of
mechanics, and ascertained the laws of the different
mechanical powers, when only eight years of age,

and before he knew that any treatise had ever been
written on that subject. The accidental circum-
stance of seeing his father lift up the roof of his
cottage, by means of a prop and lever, first direc-
ted his mind to these subjects, in which he after*
ward made many useful improvements.

If, then, it bo admitted, that an extraordinary
degree of intellectual energy and acumen is not
necessary, in every instance, for making useful
discoveries, — that the concentration of the men-
tal faculties on particular objects, and the various
circumstances in which individuals may be placed,
have led to the discovery of important facts, — it
will follow, that the exertion of the ordinarj' pow-
ers of intellect possessed by the mass of society ia
sufficient for the purpose of prosecuting scientific
discoveries, and that the more the number of sci-
entific observers and experimenters is increased
among the inferior ranks of society, the more ex-
tensively will interesting facts and analogies be
ascertained, from which new and important prin-
ciples of science may be deduced.

An ample field still remains for the exertion of
all the energies of the human mind. The scien-
ces are, as yet, far removed from perfection; some
of them have but lately commenced their progress
and some of theirelementary principles still require
to be established by future obsen'ations. The objects
of nature which science embraces are almost in-
finite; the existence of many of these objects has
not yet been discovered, and much less their mul-
tiplied relations and combinations. The research-
es of ages are still requisite, in order thoroughly
to explore the universe, and bring to view its hid-
den wonders. In order to bringto light, as speed-
ily as possible, the undiscovered truths of science,
we must endeavor to increase the number of those
who shall devote themselves, either wholly or in
part, to scientific investigation and research. And
were this object attained, in all probability, the
number of useful truths and facts which would be
discovered, would be nearly in proportion to the
number of those whose attention is directed to
such researches.

This might be illustrated from the history of the
past progress of science. In those ages, when
only a few solitary individuals, here and there,
directed their attention to such pursuits, little or
no progress was made in the various departments
of human knowledge; nay, sometimes they ap-
peared to have taken a retrograde course. During
the dark ages, when the human mind, fettered by
papal tyranny and superstition, and absorbed in
sensual* gratifications, seldom made excursions info
the regions of science, no useful discoveries were
brought to light, — science was not only at a stand,
but the knowledge and improvements of preced-
ing ages, were even in danger of being entirely
obliterated. But no sooner had the human intel-
lect burst its fetters, and the number of rational
investigators begun to increase, — no sooner had
they formed themselves into regular associations
for scientific purposes, than Science and Art were
aroused from the slumber of ages, and began to
move forward toward perfection with accelerated
progress. This may easily be traced by those who
have attended to the histoiy of science during the
last 160 years. About the commencement of this
period, the Academy of Sciences at Paris, and the
RoyalSociety of London, were established. These
soon gave birth to similar societies in almost every
country in Europe; and there can be no doubt,
that the advanced state of knowledge in the
present day is chiefly to be attributed to the
investigations and discoveries made by the
members of those associations, to their joint

80

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

co-operution in the propagation of useful know-
ledge, and to the stimulus tlicy aftbrded to intel-
lectual pursuits.

V^ouid we then accelerate the march of science
far beyond the rate of its past and present pro-
gress,— would wo wish to extend its range far be-
yond its present boundaries, nothing is so likely
to eflectuate this end, as an increase of the num-
ber of scientific experimenters and observers. Let
a certain portion of rational information be im-
parted to the great mass of mankind, — letintellec-
tual acquirements be exhibited to tliem as the no-
blest objects of pursuit, and let them be encouraged
to form associations, for the purpose of mutual im-
provement and scientific research. By these
means their attention would be directed to intel-
lectual improvement, a taste would be excited for
rational investigations, which would stimulate
them to make farther progress; they would soon
feel an interest in the objects of science; they
would listen with pleasure to the accounts of disco-
veries which are gradually brought to light through-
out the difi"erent regions of physical investigation;
and would be stimulated, from a laudable ambition
of distinguishing themselves as discoverers, as well
as from an innate love of the pursuit of knowledge
to observe those facts, to make those researches,
and to institute those experiments, thatmighthave
a tendency to enlarge the circle of human know-
ledge. Were the number of such persons increas-
ed bat a thousand-fold, so that for ever}' twenty
scientific investigators now existing, twenty thou-
sand were employed in sur\"eying the various lo-
calities, aspects, and operations of nature, in the
animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms, on the
surface of the earth and the ocean, and in the ce-
lestial regions, — hundreds of new facts would, in
all probability, be broughtto light, for o/ic that is now
discovered by the present contracted circle of scien-
tific men; from which new and important con-
clusions in the arts and sciences might be deduced.

Nor let it be objected, that the great bulk of
mankind, particularly the middling and the low^r
ranks of society, are incapable of making any im-
portant discoveries in science. If what we have
already stated be correct, thej' are possessed of all
the essential requisites, not only for acquiring
the elementary principles of knowledge, but also
for penetrating beyond the circle which marks the
present boundaries of science. They are all orga-
nized in nearly the sarne manner (a few insula-
ted individuals only excepted), and, consequently
have nearly an equal aptitude for the exercise of
conception, judgment, and ratiocination. They
have the same organs of sensation, and the same
powers of intellect, as persons in the highest ranks
of society. The grand scene of the universe is
equally open to peasants and mechanics, as to
princes and legislators; and they have the same
opportunities of making observations on the phe-
nomena of nature, and the processes of art, — nay,
in many instances, their particular situations, and
modes of life, afford them peculiar advantages in
these-respects, which are not enjoyed by persons
of a superior rank. In short, they have the same
innate curiosity and taste for relishing such inves-
tigations, provided the path of knowledge be smooth-
ed before them, and their attention thoroughly di-
rected to intellectual acquisitions.

Nor, again, should it be objected, that an atten-
tion to such objects, and an exquisite relish for
mental enjoj-ments, would unfit them for the or-
dinary duties of active life. Every man, under a
well-regulated government, enjoys a certain por-
tion of leisure from the duties of his station, which,
in too many instances, is wasted either la listless

inaction, or in the pursuits of folly and dissipation
This leisure is all that is requisite for the purpose
in view. It would only be requisite that, during
its continuance, the train of their thoughts should
be directed into a channel which would lead them
to more pleasing associations, and more substantial
pleasures, than the general current of human
thought is calculated to produce. That (hose
who are in the habit of exercising their faculties
on rational subjects are thereby rendered more
unfit for the common business of life, it would
be absurd to suppose. He who habitually exer-
cises his judgment on scientific objects, is gra-
dually improving his mental powers, and must,
from this very circumstance, be better qualified
than others for exercising them in his particular
trade or profession. For the habit of exerting the
intellectual faculties in any one department, must
necessarily fit them for vigorous exertion on any
other object, whether mechanical, agricultural,
social, or domestic, to which the attention may be
directed. The evils which at present derange the
harmony of society, so far from arising from a
vigorous exertion of intellect, are to be ascribed, for
the most part, to an opposite cause. The intellec-
tual powers, in the case of the great bulk of man-
kind, lie in a great measure dormant, their ener-
gies are not sufficiently exerted in anv department
of active life; and wbeu occasionally roused from
their inactivity, they are too frequently exercised
in the arts of deception, of mischief, and of human
destruction. To direct the current of human
thought, therefore, into a different channel, be-
side its influence on the progress of science,
would be productive of many happy effects on the
social and moral condition of mankind; and, as
far as my experience goes, with a very few ex-
ceptions, I have found, that those who are ad«
dieted to rational pursuits are the most industri-
ous and respectable members of civil and Chris-
tian society.

The above liints have been thrown out with the
intention of showing, that, as all science is found-
ed on facts, and as eveiy person possessed of the
common organization of human nature is capable
of observing facts, and of comparing them with
one another, — as the discovery of new truths is
owing more to the concentration of the mental
faculties on particular objects, and to several ac-
cidental circumstances, than to the exertion of ex-
traordinary powers of intellect, — and as the sci-
ences have generally improved in proportion to
the nmiiber of those who have devoted themselves
to their cultivation, — so there is every reason to
conclude, that the diffusion of general knowledga
and of scientific taste, and consequently, the in-
crease of scientific obsen'ers, would ensure the
rapid advancement of the different sciences, by an
increase of the facts in relation to them whicll
would thus be discovered.

I shall now endeavor to illustrate the positions
stated above, by a few examples in relation to two
or three of the physical sciences.

Gcolofjy. — This science is yet in it? infancy; and
some of its first principles require to be confirmed
and illustrated by an induction of an immense
number of facts of various descriptions. It is a
branch of knowledge altogether founded upon facta
palpable to the e)'e of every common observer.
Its object is, to investigate the internal structure
of the earth, — the an-angement of its component
parts, — the changes which its materials have un-
dergone since its original formation, — and the
causes which have operated in the production of
these changes. To determine such objects, it ia

ON THE PROMOTION OF SCIENCE.

31

requisite t.iat an immense variety of observations
bf: ni;tde on the form, position, and arrangement
of mountains, — on the beds of rivers, — tlie interior
of caverns, — the recesses of ravines, — tlie snbter-
raueo .s apartments of mines, — the fissures and
cluisms whicli abound in Alpine districts, — and
even on the bottom of tjie ocean, in so far as
it can be explored; and that a multitude of facts
be collected in relation to the materials and posi-
tion, the elevation and inllexion, the fraction and
dislocation of the earth's strata — calcareous pe-
trifactions— metallic veins — decomposed rocks —
mosses — rivers — lakes — sand-banks — sea-coasts —
tlio products of volcanoes — the composition of
stone, sand, and gravel — t!ie organic remains of
animal and vegetable matter, — in short, tiiat the
whole surface of the terraqueous globe, and its
inferior recesses, be contemplated in every variety
of aspect presented to the view of man. The
observations hitherto made in reference to such
multifarious objects have been chiefly confined
to a few regions of the earth, and the facts
which have been ascertaini>d with any degree
of precision, have been collected, chiefly by a
few individuals within the last fifty or sixty
years. From such partial and limited researches,
general principles have been deduced, and theo-
ries of the earth have been framed, which could
only be warranted by a thorough examination of
every region of the globe. Hence one theory of
the earth has successively supplanted another for
more than a century past. The theories of Bur-
nett, Whiston, Woodward, Buffbn, and White-
hnrst, have each had its day and its admirers, but
all of them are now fast sinking into oblivion, and
in the next age will be viewed only as so manj'
philosophical rhapsodies, and ingenious fictions
of the imagination, which have no solid founda-
tion in the actual structure of the earth. Even
tlie foundations of the Huttonian and Werue-
rian systems, which have chiefly occupied the
attention of geologists during the last thirty years,
are now beginning to be shaken, and new systems
are constructing, composed of the fragments of
both. One principal reason «f this diversity of
opinion respecting the true theory of the earth,
undoubtedly is, that all the facts in relation to the
external and internal structure of our globe have
never yet been thoroughly explored. Instead of
retiring to the closet, and attempting to patch up
a theory with scattered and disjointed fragments,
our province, in the meantime, is, to stand in the
attitude of surveyors and observers, to contemplate
every aspect which terrestrial nature presents, to
collect the minutest facts which relate to the ob-
ject in view, and then leave to succeeding genera-
tions the task of constructing a theory from the
materials we thus prepare.

Were we now to suppose, that, instead of one
observer of geological facts that now exists, fliou-
eands v/ere distributed throughout the different
continents and islands, having their minds occa-
sionally directed to such investigations; that the
miners and laborers in coal-pits, iron-mines, and
quarries, not only in Europe, but throughout
Slexico and Peru, in the East and West Indies, in
Canada, in New Holland, in Southern Africa, in
tlie ranges of the Alps, the Andes, the Himalayas,
and other quarters, observed with attention the
various phenomena of nature subject to their in-
spection, with this object in view; that sailors, mis-
eionaries, and travelers of every description, con-
templated the ditFoi;ent aspects of nature in the
regions through which they passed, aifd recorded
the fa( ts which came under their observation, for
a similar purpose j and could we still fartlier sup-

pose, that the groat body of mankind in every
clime iniglit, at no distant period, have their minda
directed to similar subjects, there cannot be tha
least doubt but an immense multitude of import-
ant facts would soon be accumulated, which would
throw a striking liglit on the constitution of our
planetary globe, and on the changes and revolu-
tions througii which it has passed, which would
form a broad basis for the erection of a true theory
of (he earth, and tend either to establish or to over-
throw the hypotheses whicii have hitherto been
framed. Persons in the lower spheres of life have,
in many cases, more frequent opportunities of as-
certaining facts of the description to which I al-
lude, than many others who are placed in an ele-
vated I'ank. Colliers, quarriers, miners of every
description, and the inhabitants of Alpine districts,
are almost daily in contact with objects connect-
ed with geological research; and it is only requi-
site that their attention be directed to such inqui-
ries— that the knowledge of a few elementary terms
and principles be imparted to them — that they bo
directed to classify the facts which fall under their
observation — and that a systematic list of quei-ies,_
such as those published some j^earsago by the Lou-
don "Geological Society," be put into their hands.*

Natural History. — It is evident that the exten-
sion and improvement of this department of
knowledge depends almost entirely on observation
Although a considerable accession has of late
years been made to our knowledge in this branch
of study, yet much still remains to be accomplish-
ed before all the objects it embraces be thorough-
ly explored. Our acquaintance with the zoology,
botany, and mineralogy of New Holland, Polyne-
sia, Birmah, China, Tartary, Thibet, Africa, and
America, is extremly limited; and even within the
limits of Europe, numerous unexplored regions
svill lie open to the future researches of the natural
historian. So numerous are the objects and in-
vestigations which natural history presents, that
although its cultivators were increased ten thou-
sand-fold, they would find sufficient employment
in the prosecution of new discoveries for many
centuries to come. Even those minute objects,
in the animal and vegetable kingdoms, which lie
beyond the natural sphere of human vision, and
which the microscope alone can discover, would
afford scope for the investigations of thousands of
ingenious inquirers, during an indefinite series of
ages. And it ought never to be forgotten, that
every new object and process we are enabled to
trace in this boundless field of observation, pre-
sents to us the Deity in a neio aspect, and enablej
us to form more enlarged conceptions of that pow-
er and intelligence which produced the immense as-
semblage of beings with which we are surrounded.

Independently of the additions that might bo

* The queries to which I refer may be seen in the "Month-
ly Maf^azine" for June 1817, pp. 436 — 9. A few years ago,
some interesting fossi\ remains, supposed to l)e the teeth and
other bones of the extinct animal designated by the name of
Mammoth, were almost entirely destroyed through the igno-
rance of some laborers in the parish of Horley, who hap-
pened to hit upon them when digging gravel. Alter cleav-
ing them to pieces with their pick-axes, and finding it ad-
ded nothing to their store of knowledge, "they threw away
the fi-agments among the heaps of gravel, and the subject
was consigned to oblivion; and it was only by accident that
two entire teeth were found by a gentleman in the neighbor-
liood. The bones supposed to have been either destroyed
or lost, are a very large bone, supposed to have been a thiga
bone; a huge blade bone; and a tusk of ivor)', perfect in iti
form, described as b^ing about half a rod in length." Had
these laborers been aware of the interesting nature of such
fossils, they might have been all preserved entire; and thif
circumstance shows how important such occurrences, and
the observations and researches of common laborers, might
sometimes prove to the geologist and the general student ol
natoie.

32

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

made to our knowledge of animals, vegetables, and
minerals, there are Si^veral facts in natural history
which might be more precisely ascertained and
explained, were coinmon laborers and others in
the same rank of life insjjired with tlie spirit of
philosophical observation. For the. illnstr.-ition of
this, I shall state only one particuhir circumstance.
It is a fact, wliich, however inexplicable, must be
admitted, that toads have been found alive in the
heart of solid rocks, and in the trunks of trees,
wlierc they have been supposed to have existed for
ages without any apparent access to nourishment
or ti air. Such facts are supported by so numerous
and so respectable autliorilies, that it would be vain
to call in question their reality; and they assume
a more mysterious aspect, from the circumstance,
tliat toads, when placed in the exhausted receiver
of an air-pump, like all other animals, soon lose
their existence. That the toad is not the only ani-
mal wliich has been found in similar instances,
appears from a notice in the Monthly Magazine
for April 1S^17, wliich states, that " a large lizard
or serpent was found by some miners, imbedded
in a stratum of mineral substance, and lived for
Bome time after it was extricated." As the min-
eral substance in which this animal was found
was at the bottom of a deep mine, and connected
with the surrounding strata, we are almost under
the necessity of concluding, that it must have ex-
isted in that state for many years. Now, it is
proper to take into consideration, that such facts
have been discovered, in the first instance, by la-
borers, quarriers, miners, and others engaged in
laborious occupations, who, with the limited know-
ledge they presently possess, are unqnalified for
attending to all the circumstances which re-
quire to be noticed in conducting philosophical re-
searches. Were persons of this description accus-
tomed to examine every uncommon occurrence of
this kind with a philosophic eye; were they, in
such cases as those to which I have now referred,
to examine, with accuracy, whether chinks or fis-
sures, either horizontal or perpendicular, existed
in the rocks, or were connected with the holes or
vacuities of the old trees, where toads were found
alive; and were every other circumstance, which a
scientific investigator would take into account, ac-
curately observed and recorded, such obseiTations
might ultimately lead to some rational explana-
tions of such unaccountable facts. At any rate,
as those who belong to that class of society to
which I allude, have many opportunities of con-
templating the various objects and operations of
the material world, their accumulated observa-
tions, when scientifically directed, could not fail
of enlarging our knowledge of facts in several de-
partments of the history of nature.

Meteorology. — In this department of physical
science, numerous facts still remain to be ascer-
tained, before we can attempt to explain the causes
of various interesting phenomena. We have hith-
erto been unable to collect with precision all the
facts in relation to the diversified phenomena of
the atmosphere, and are still at a loss to explain,
on known principles, the causes which operate in
producing many atmospherical appearances. We
are still in a great measure ignorant of the aurora
borealis, with respect to its nature and origin, its
distance from the sxrrface of the earth, what pre-
cise connexion it has with the magnetic and elec-
tric fluids, and why it has been frequently seen at
some periods, and been invisible at others. We
are in a similar state of ignorance in regard to lu-
minous and fi try meteors, — as to their difTerent .spe-
cies and varieties, the velocity and direction of their
motions, tlieir influence ou other atmospherical

phenomena, on vegetation, and on the weather*
and the principles in nature which operate in their
produclion. Although the general cause of thun-
der-storms is in some measure ascertained, yet wo
are ignorant of the causes of a variety of phenom-
ena vi'ith which they are sometimes accompaniedj
and of some of the choliiical agents by whicli they
are produced. To determine the origin of meteoric
stones, tlie particular regions in which they are pro-
duced, the causes of their extreme velocity, the
oblique direction of thidr motion, and the agents
which concur in their formation, has hitherto baf-
fled the researches of the whole philosophical
world. Even the nature of the clouds, their various
modifications, their diflercnt electric states, the
causes which combine to produce their precipita-
tion into ruin, the nature of evaporation, together
vcitli an immense number of facts requisite for
laying the foundation of a correct theory of the
weather, are still hid in obscurity.

It is obvious, that a thorough knowledge of at-
mospherical phenomena cannot be acquired, before
we have ascertained not only the particular facts
and appearances connected with the atmosphere,
but all the preceding, concomitant, and consequent
circumstances with which they are generally ac-
companied; and to determine such particulars re-
quires an immense variety of obsei-viitions, both by
day and by night, through all the regions of the
earth. Before such facts be more fully ascertain-
ed, our attempts to account for various atmospher-
ical phenomena must prove unsatisfactory and ab-
ortive. Hence, the causes assigned by philosophers
of the last century for the production of rain, hail,
dew, fireballs, and other meteors, are now consid-
ered nugatory and erroneous; and few will be bold
enough to maintain that we have yet arrived at the
knowledge of the true causes. If these sentiments
be admitted, it will follow, that an increased num-
ber of obsen'ers of the scenery of the atmosphere,
in different climates, with a scientific object in view,
could not fail of increasing our knowledge both of
the phenomena which take place in the regions
of the atmosphere, and of the powers of nature
which operate in their production.

With respect to the aurora borealis, some data
might be ascertained for determining their hight
above the surface of the earth, wliich might lead
to a discovery of their true cause, were a multi-
tude of observers, in different places, at the same
moment, to take the altitude and bearing of any
particular coruscation, particularly of the modifi-
cation of this phenomenon which assumes the form
of a rainbow or luminous arch, which can instant-
ly be done by noting the series of stars which ap-
pear about the middle or sides of the arc at any
particular instant. By this means the parallactio
angle might be found, and the distances of the
places of observation, or their difference of lati-
tude, if directly north and south of each other,
would form base lines for determining the pe:-pen-
dicular elevation of the phenomenon. In reference
to luminous meteors, as they are most frequently
seen in the night-time, men of science and persona
of elevated rank have seldom opportunities of ob-
sen ing their diversified phenomena, and the cir-
cumstances with which they are preceded and ac->
companied. But while persons of this class are
reclining on beds of down, or regaling themselves
at the festive board, hemmed in from the view of
the surrounding sky by the walls and curtains of
their splendid apartments, many in the lower walks
of life are " keeping watch by night," or travel-
ing from place to place, who have thus an oppor-
tunity of observing every variety of atmospherical
phenomena; and it is not unlikely may have seea

ON THE PROMOTION OF SCIENCE

as

several species of luminous and fiery meteors un-
known to tlic scieutilic world. Were persons of
this description, i)articul:irly watchmen, soldiers.
Bailors, muil-cojcli guards, policemen, and .such
like, capable of observing such appearances with
scientific interest and accuracy, and of recorJiug
their observations, various important additions
might be made to the facts which compose the
natural history of tlie atmospjiere.

Similar additions might be made to our know-
ledge of thunder-storms, were their phenoznena
and concomitant circumstances accurately noted
by a vast number of persons in different places.
It might, for example, be determined, from a mul-
titude of observations made with this special object
ia view, — at what distance from the earth a thun-
der-cloud may explode without danger? — in what
circumstances, and at what elevation it generally
attains its striking distance, and brings us within
the range of its destructive influence? — what par-
ticular effects, hitherto unobserved, are produced
by lightning on animal, vegetable, and mineral
substances? — to what practical purposes its agency
might be applied, — and how its destructive rava-
ges might be averted or diminished? The same
remarks will apply to the singular phenomenon of
meteoric stones. These have seldom been obser-
ved at the instant of their descent by men addicted
to philosophical research; but chiefly by peasants,
laborers, and mechanics, who, at present, are gen-
ercdly unqualified for attending to every circum-
stance in the preceding and concomitant phenom-
ena connected with their descent, with the discern-
ing eye of a phllosopiier; and therefore, we may
etill be ignorant of certain important facts in tlie
history of tlie fall of these bodies, which may long
prevent us from forming any rational theory to ex-
plaia their causes, or to determine the regions
whence their origin is derived.

Agronomy. — My next illustration shall be takea
from the science of astronomy. Though this is
among the oldest of the sciences, and its general
principles are established witli greater precision
tlian those of almost any otiier department of
science, yet many desiderata requisite to its per-
fection, still remain to be ascertained. The late
discovery of several new planets, both primary
and secondary, leads us to conclude, that other
globes of a similar nature belonging to our sys-
tem, may still lie hitl in the distant spaces of the
firmament. The spheroidal figure of some of the
planets — their periods of rotation — the nature of
the changes which appear to take place on their
surfaces or in their atmospheres — the precise nature
of the solar spots, the causes of their changes, and
the influence which these changes produce on our
earth or atmosphere — the parallax of the fixed
stars — the rate of motion of the planetary system
in absolute space — the gradual formation of neb-
uIeb — the nature of variable stars — the number of
comets, their periods, tiie nature of their tails and
atmospheres, and their uses in the system of na-
ture— with many other interesting particulars of a
similar description, still remain to be ascertained.
To determine such objects, requires a multiplicity
of long-continued observations in every region of
tlie heavens; and it must be evident, that the more
we increase the number of astronomical observers,
the greater chance we shall have of acquiring a
more accurate and comprehensive knowledge of
the bodies which roll in the distant regions of the
universe, and of the relations they bear to one an-
other, and to the whole system of nature.

This position might be illustrated by a few ex-
amples. The surface of Jupiter has been found
to bo diversified with a variety of spots and belts:
the belts, which are considerably darker than the
general surface of the planet, are observed to vary

In their number, distance, and position. Sometimes
only one or two, and sometimes seven or eight belts
have been observed; sometimes they are quite dis-

Vot. I.--3

tfnct, and at other times they seem to runinto each

other; and in some instances, the whole surface of
this planet has appeared to be covered with small

34

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE

curved bolts that were not continuous across his
disc.

The fon^gjoinof figures represent some of tlie
diversifu'c] viiws whicli Jupiter sonieliuies exhibits.
Fig. 1, is copied from Dr. Long, and a])[)ears to
be one of the views of lliis iiUuict taken liy the
celehnited Cassiir'. It consists of about nine dif-
ferent belts. Fig. 2, is copied from Schroetcr, and
exhibits a view of Jupiter about the time of its
occultation by the moon, on tho 7th of April
17!)2. Fig. .S, is one of Irir VV. Ilerschers views
of tliis planet, as it appeared on the 26th of Way
1780, when the whole disc of Jupiter appeared
covered with small curved belts, or rather lines,
tljat were not continuous across his disc. Fig. 4,
c<'ntaius a view which is nearly the appearance
which Jupiter exhibits at present, and which is
not much different from his appearance for seve-
ral years past. These appearances may be seen
by a good achromatic telescope, magnifying from
80 to 150 times. These views demonstrate, that
changes of considerable magnitude are occasion-
ally taking place, either on the surface or in the
atmosphere of this planet, v/hich it would be of
some importance to ascertain, in order to our acquir-
ing a more intimate knowledge of the physical
constitution of this globe. Now, were a number
ol observers, in different places, to mark these ap-
pearances, and to delineate the aspect of this j)lan-
el: during the space of two or three periodical revo-
lutions,* marking the periods of the different
changes, and noting at the same time the positions
of his satellites — it m.ight be ascertained, whether
these changes are occasioned by tides, which are
differently affected according to the position of
his moons, or by immense strata of clouds, or other
changes that take place in his atmosphere, or by
some great physical revolutions which are occa-
sionally agitating the surface of this planet. The
observers ol such facts should be numerous, in
order that the deficiencies of one might be sup-
plied by another, and the general conclusions de-
duced from a comparison of all the observations
taken together; and it would be requisite, that the
places of observations he in different countries,
that the deficiency of observations in one place,
occasioned by a cloudy atmosphere, might be com-
pensated by those made in the serene sky of ano-
ther. Such a series of observations, although they
shouL-l not lead to sati.-factory conclusions in rela-
tion to the particulars now stated, could scarcely
fail of throwing some additional light on the na-
ture and constitution of this planet.

With respect to tho planet VeJius, the author
some time ago ascertained from observ"ation,t that
this planet may be distinctly seen in the day-
time, at the time of its superior conjunction with
the sun, when it presents to the earth a full en-
lightened hemisphere; provided its geocentric lati-
tude, or distance from the sun's center at the time
bo not less than 1° 43'. This is the only position
(except at the time of a transit, which happens
only once or twice in a hundred years) in which
the polar and equatorial dianK-ters of this planet
can be measured, and their difference, if any, as-
certained, so as to determine whether its figure,
like that of the earth and several other planets, be
spheroidal. But as this planet may not happen
for a scries of years to be in the precise position
for roch an observation, the attempt to determine

• The annnal or periodical revolution of Jupiter is com-
pleted in about eleven years and ten nnonths.

tSec Nicholson's Phil. Journal, vol. xxxvi for Oct. ]S13.
Edin. Phil. Journal, No. v, for July ]f-.20.— Monthly Mag.
Feb. 1814, and August 1820, p. 62. — Scots Magazine for
1H14, p. 84, &o.

thn points now stated, even when the planet hap-
pens to he ])laced in the requisite circumstances,
would, in all probability, fail, if a number of ob-
servers at the same timu, in dillerent places, were
not engaged in the observation; on account of tho
uncertainty of enjoying a serene sky at one par-
ticular plarie, during the moments when tho
observation should be made. Whereas, by a
multitude of observations in different places, the
object in view could not fail of being tletermined.
The disputes respecting tlie period of rotation of
this planet (whether it be 2.) hours 20 minutes,
or 24 days 8 hours) might also be settled, were a
number of persons to observe its surface with
equatorial telescopes in the day-time; particularly
in those southern climes where the air is serene,
and the sky exhibits a deep azure, where, in all
probability, spots would be discovered, which could
be traced in their motions for sutcessive jjcrioda
of twelve hours or more, which would determine
to a certainty the point in qaestion.

The following figure and explanation will per-
haps tend to show the reason of the dispute Which
has arisen in reference to tliis poinl

Let A represent a spot on the surface of Veiius.

A f=r

B fe^

As this planet is seen, by the naked eye, only in
the morning a little before sun-rise, or in the
evening a sbort time after sun-set — the motion
of the spot cannot be traced above an hour or two
in succession; and, consequently, during that
time, its progressive motion is almost impercepti-
ble. Suppose the observation to have been made
in the evening, after sun-set, the next observation
cannot be made until about the same time, on tho
following evening, when it is found that the spot
has moved from A to B. But it is still uncertain
whether the spot has only moved from A to B,
since the last observation, or has finished a com-
plete revolution, and moved the distance A B as
a part of another revolution round the axis of the
planet. This point can only be ascertained by
tracing the motion of the spot without interrnp-
tion for 10, 12, or 14 hours, when, if the rotation
is performed in 23J.j hours, the motion of the spot
could be traced without interruption across the
whole disc of the planet. But such an observa-
tion could only be made in the day-time, in a
serene sky, and by means of equatorial instru-
ments, and by numbers of observers in different
places, where the attention is directed to the same
object. But the limits to which I am confined,
in throwing out these cursory hints, prevent me
from entering into minute details.

In regard to comets, it is scarcely necessary to
remark, that were tlie number of those whoso at-
tention is directed to a survey of the heaveaa

ON THE PROMOTION OF SCIENCE.

35

ef-nsiderably increased, many of tliose. eccentric
bodies, wliicii pass and repass witliia the orbits of
the planets withont being perceived, could not
fail of being d. t cted. Were multitudes of such
persons engaged in exploring the celestial regions,
on opposite sides of the globe, those comets
which pass within the limits of our view, and
which are above our liorizou only in the day-
time, and consequently invisible, would bo de-
tected, during the night, by our antipodes in the
opposite regions of the globe. By this means the
number of those bodies belonging to our system,
the diversified phenomena they present, the form
of their trajectories, the periods of their revolu-
tions, the nature of their tails, and their ultimate
destination, jnight be more accurately determined.
With respect to the fixed stars, particularly those
termed variable stars, the results of a nuiltitude
of observations made by different persons, might
lead us to determine, whether those changes in
brightness wliicii they undergo, arise from the
transits of large planets revolving around them,
and thus furnish direct evidence of their being
the centers of systems analogous to our own, —
or whether they be occasioned by largo spots
which periodically interpose between our sight,
and then disappear in the course of their rota-
tion,— or v«:hether the distance of such stars be
changed by tiieir revolving in a long narrow el-
lipse, whose transverse axis is situated nearly in
our line of vision. In the several instances now
stated, an immense variety of successive observa-
tions, by numerous observers at ditFerent stations,
are requisite to accomplish the ends in view; but
the limits of this section prevent me from enter-
ing into those details requisite for rendering the
hints now suggested perspicuous to those who
have not devoted their attention to this subject.

Tiie Moon being the nearest celestial body to
the earth, it might liave been expected that the
variety of scenery on her surface, and even some
parts of her physical constitution, might have
been ascertained and delineated. Yet all that has
hitherto been discovered with certainty in rela-
tion to this body is, that her surface is strikingly
diversified with mountains and valleys, with vast
caverns or hollows surrounded with mountainous
ridges, and with several elevated peaks, which
rise, hke a sugar loaf, from the middle of the

filains. We have no accurate delineation of the
unar scenery, as exhibited in the various stages
of the moon's increase and decrease, except those
which have been published by Hevelius and
Schroeter, wliich have never been translated into
our language, and, consequently are very little
known. Most of our English books on astro-
nomy contain nothing more than a paltry and
inaccurate view of the full mnon, which has been
copied by one engraver from another, without
any improvements, ever since the days of Riccio-
lus, and long before the telescope was brought to
its present state of improvement It is not from
a telescopic view of the full moon that any spe-
cific deductions can be made respecting the ap-
pearance and arrangement of her diversified sce-
nery; but from long-continued observations of
her surface about the period of the quadratures,
and at the times when she assumes a crescent or
n gibbous phase; for it is only at such times that
the shadows of her cavities and mountain-ridges
can be distinctly perceived. As there is none of
the celestial bodies whose constitution and sce-
nery we have so excellent an opportunity of in-
•pecting, had we a sufficient number of astrono-
mical observers, furnished with good telescopes,
the surface of this globe might be ahnost as accu-

rately delineated as that of the earth, ana the
Hiost prominent changes that take place on its
surface plainly detected. In order to bring to
light (lie minute parts of its scenery, it would
only be requisite to distribute the entire surface
of this luminary among a hundred or a thousand
observers, allotting to each one or more spots as
the particular object of his attention, with the
understanding, that he is to inspect them with
care through every variety of shade they may
exhibit, and during the different stages of the
moon's increase and decrease, and delineate the
difll-rent iispects they may present. When we
consider that, by means of a telescope which mag-
nities 2110 times, an object on the moon that mea-
sures only 600 yards may be perceived as a visible
point, and by one whicli magnifies 800 times, an
object not larger than 150 yards in diameter may
be distinguisUed — we can scarcely entertain a
doubt, that a number of interesting discoveries
might soon be made on the lunar surface, were
sucli minute observations as these now suggested
to be continued for a series of years, which might
atford sensible and dernonstrative evidence of the
moon's being a habitable world. But before at-
tention to such objects becomes general, and the
nui7iber of astronomical observers be increased
far beyond what it is at present, such discoveries
can scarcely be expected.

•I shall only remark farther on this head, that
several discoveries have been made bjr accident-
ally directing a telescope to certain parts of the
heavens. It is well known that Miss Herschel,
while amusing herself in looking at the heavens
through Sir William Herschel's telescope, dis-
covered at different times a variety of comets,
which might otherwise have passed unnoticed by
the astronomical world; and several of the new
planets which have been discovered within the
last 50 or GO years, were detected when the dis-
coverers were employed making observations with
a different object in view. The splendid comet
which appeared in our hemisphere in 1811, was
first discovered in this country by a sawyer,*
who, with a reflecting telescope of his own con-
struction, and from iiis sawpit as an observatory,
descried that celestial visitant before it had been
noticed by any other astronomer in North Bri-
tain. The author of this work detected this comet
a day or two afterward, before he had been in-
formed of the discovery, while he was taking a
random sweep over the northern region of the
heaTens. He had directed his telescope to a cer-
tain star in the neighborhood of Ursa Major, and
immediately afterward, taking a general sweep
upward and downward, and to the east and west,
an uncommon object appeared in the field of
view, which, after a little inspection, was per-
ceived to be a comet, and he naturally concluded
that he had made the first discovery, until the
newspapers afterward informed him that it had
been detected a day or two before. It was while
riir W. Herschel was inspecting some small stars
near the foot of Castor, with a different object in
view, that he discovered the planet which bears
his name, and which he at first took for a comet.
It had been seen thirty years before, but for want
of numerous observers to mark its motions, it
had been marked in catalogues as a fixed star. It
was while I\Ir. Harding of Lilienthal, near Bre-
men, was forming an atlas of the stars so far as
the eighth magnitude, that, on the 1st September,
1804, he discovered in the constellation Pisces the

* The name of tliis gentleman is Mr. Veitch, and 1 b«
lieve he resides in tbs ueighborbood of Kelso.

86

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

Elanet Juno, one of the four asteroids situated
etwcen the orbits of Mars and Jupiter.
If, therefore, instead of a few individuals occa-
sionally engaged in surveying celestial phenome-
na, and cliii'tly confined to a small i)ortion of
Europe, — were thousands and ten thousands of
telescopes daily directed to the sky from every
ren-ion of the earth, and were distinct portions of
the heavens allotted to distinct classes of observ-
eJ-s, as the object of their more immediate re-
search, every portion of that vast concave, with
the numerous globes which roll within its wide
circumtVronce, as far as human vision assisted by
art can penetrate, would ere long be thoroughly
explored, and its hidden worlds disclosed to view.
No comet could pass within the orbit of Jupiter
without being detected, — the undiscovered pla-
nets belonging to our system, if any still remuin,
would be brought to view, — the periodical changes
on the surfaces and in the atmospheres of the pla-
nets already discovered, with all their diversified
phenomena, would be more accurately ascertained
and delineated, — the path of the solar system in
absolute space, the velocity of its motion, the dis-
tant center about which it revolves, and the cen-
ter of gravity of the nebula to which it belongs,
might be determined, — the changes and revolu-
tions that are taking place among the fixed stars, —
the undiscovered strata of ntbulo!, — the old sys-
tems that are going into decay, — the new crea-
tions that may be emerging into existence, and
many other tviblime objects which at present lie
concealed in the unexplored regions of space,
might be brought within the range of human
contemplation, and astronomy, the sublimest of
all the sciences, approximate toward perfection.

For making the observations now supposed, a
profound knowledge of the physical and mathe-
matical principles of astronomy is not absolutely
necessary. All the qualifications essentially re-
quisite are, — a general knowledge of the ele-
ments of tlie science, of the celestial phenomena
which have already been explored, and of the
method of determining the right ascension and
declination of any observed phenomenon, — quali-
fications, which every person of common under-
standing can easily acquire.

I might next have illustrated the general posi-
tion laid down in the beginning of this section
from the science of chemistry. '1 his science, hav-
ing for its object to ascertain the ingredients that
enter into the composition of bodies, the nature
of those ingredients, the manner in which *thcy
combine, and the properties resulting from their
combination; or, in other words, an analytical
examination of the material world, and the prin-
ciples which concur to produce its diversified
phenomena; it is apparent, at first view, that an
immense number and variety of experiments are
indispensably requisite for accomplishing such
objects; and, consequently, that its progress to-
ward perfection cannot be accelerated, unless
multitudes of experimenters concur in observing
the phenomena of nature, and the processes of
tlie arts, in instituting analytical experiments,
and in prosecuting every inquiry which has a
tendency to promote its improvement. It is
chiefly in consequence of the increased number
of its cultivators that this science has risen to the
distinguished rank it now holds among the useful
departments of human knowledge, and that so
many brilliant discoveries have rewarded the in-
vestigations of its votaries. Wrenched from the
grasp of empirics and alchemists, and no longer
confined to the paltry object of searching for the
pkilotoplier's stone, it extends its range over every

object in the material world, and slieds its inflii»
ence over all the other departments of physical
science; and as its votaries increase in numbers
and in perseverance, it will doubtless bring to
light scenes and discoveries still more interesting
and brilliant than those which have hitherto been
disclosed. Illustrations of the same d(.'scriptioii
might also have been taken from optics, electri-
city, magnetism, galvanism, pneumatics, and
other departments of natural scierice; but having
protracted this section to a disproportionate length,
the instances alrendy stated will, I presume, be
suflicicnt to prove the truth of the position, '^ tliat
a (jcneral diffusion of knouiedge would hare a pow-
erful influence on the progress of science."

From the few hints now given, and from many
others that might have beeu suggested, had my
limits permitted, it will appear, that nuich still
remains to be accomplished until any science, even
those which are farthest advanced, arrive at per-
fection. The reason is obvious; the scene of
universal nature has never yet been thoroughly
surveyed, and never will be, until the eyes and
the intellects of millions be fixed in the contem-
plation of its multifarious and diversified objects
and relations. Until the universe, in all its as-
pects, so far as it lies within the range of human
inspection, be more particularly explored, clouda
and darkness will continue to rest on manj' in-
teresting departments of knowledge, and many
of our most specious theories in the sciences must
be considered as reposing on slender and unstable
foundations. Prior to the introduction of the in-
ductive method of philosophizing, men of science
were extremely prone to the framing of hypothe-
ses, before they had attentively surveyed and col-
lected the requisite facts, and when only a few
scattered fragments of nature were present to
their view. Theory was reared upon theory, and
system upon system j^each of them obtained its
admirers and its period of applause, but, in con-
sequence of modern researches, they have now
passed away like a dream or a vision of the night.
The crystalline spheres with which Ptolemy had
inclosed the heavens are now dashed to pieces^
the vortices of Des Cartes have long since cease*'
their whirling; the terraqueous globe which Ty-
cho had fixed in the center of the universe is now
set in rapid motion through the heavens, in com-
pany with the planetary orbs; and the abyss of
water with which Burnet had filled the internal
cavity of the earth is now converted into a mass
denser than the solid rock. The Terra Australia
Incognito, which served as a prop to certain theo-
ries, has completely evanished, and is now trans-
formed into a drcai'v mass of water and ice. The
subtile ether, which formerly accounted for so
many phenomena, is now evaporated into electri-
city and heat. Whiston's idea of the cometary
origin of our globe, and BufTon's fancy of the
earth's being a splinter struck from the body of
the sun, are fast sinking into oblivion; and such
will be the fate of every theory, however spe-
cious, which is not founded oix the broad basis
of inductive evidence.

Even in the present day, there is sl^U too great
a propensity to generalize, without submitting
to the trouble of observing phenomena, and noting
their various modifications and attendant ciroum*
stances. The human mind is impatient, and
attempts to reach the goal by the shortest and
most rapid course, while observation and experi-
ment are tedious and slow. Instead of surveying
the materia] world with his own eyes, and investi-
gating, by observation and experiment. Its princi-
ples and laws, the man of genius freonently shuts

ON THE PROMOTION OF SCIENCE

37

himself up in his closet, and from a few scattered
fragments of nature, constructs, in his imagina-
tion, a si)lendid theory, which makes a noiso and a
blaze for a little, like an unsubstantial meteor, and
then evanishes into air. The system of nature,
though directed in its general movements by a few
simple laws, is too grand and extensive, and too
complex in many of its parts, to be grasped by a
few iudividnals, after a cursory survey; and,tiiere-
fore, to attempt to comprehend its multifarious
revolutions, phenomena and objects williiu the
range of tiicories founded on a partial view of
some of its detached parts, is not only an evidence
of presumption and folly, but tends to dump our
ardor in prosecuting the only sure path which
leads to discovery, and to frustrate what appears
to be one of the designs of the Creator, namely,
■to grant to the intdliyvnt inhabitants of our globe a
gradual display of his stupendous plans in the uni-
verse as the reward of their incessant and unwearied
contemplation of his jcondrous works.

Were the period arrived (and of its arrival I
entertain no doubt, from the present movements
of the human mind) when the majority of man-
kind shall devote a portion of their time and atten-
tion to the purposes of science, and to the con-
templation of nature — then the different tastes of
individuals, and the various situations in whicli
they may be placed, would lead thera to cultivate
more particularly the science most congenial to
tlieir minds ; and were distinct departments of the
Bame science marked out for distinct classes of
indivi.Uiats, as the more immediate field of their
investigation, on the principle of the division of
labor, every leading principle and fact in relation
to that science would soon be detected and Illus-
trated in all its practical bearings. Even as mat-
ters presently stand, were tiie whole literary and
Bcienlific world to form itself into one great repub-
lic, and to allot the several branches of every de-
partment of knowledge to the different classes of
such a community, according to their respective
taste.a and pursuits, as the object of their more
particular attention, it might be followed by manj'
interesting results, and important discoveries and
improvements. But we live in loo early a period
in the history of science to expect a general inter-
est to be taken in such objects ; we are but just
emerging from the gloom of ignorance and super-
stition ; the great body of mankind still suffer
their faculties to lie in a state of languor and inac-
tivity, and tliose who are more vigorous and alert
are too much engrossed in commercial speculations,
in grasping at power and opulence, and in the
indulgence of sensual gratifications, to think of
atteuGing to the interests of science and the pro-
gress of the human mind. Much, however, might
be accomplished in this respect, with ease and
pleasure, by various clas.ses of society, and without
interfering with their ordinary avocations, were
their minds inclined and their attention directed
to such pursuits. Sailors, in crossing the Atlan-
tic, the Pacific, and the Indian oceans, have fre-
quently excellent ojjportunities of observing the
Ehenomena of the waters, the atmosphere, and the
eavens, peculiar to*the climates through whicli
they pass ; and were the facts presented to their
view observed with care, classified, and recorded,
they might, in many instances, con tribute to the ad-
vancement of science. But thousands of such per-
sons can sail twice " from Indus to the frozen pole,
as ignorant as their log, and as st ubborn as their com-
pass," without imi)orting one intillectual acquisi-
tion. The observations made during a single voyage
across the Atlantic, by a single observer, M. Hum-
boldt, on the aspect of the Antarctic region of the

heavens— the peculiar azure of the African sky— the
luminous meteors of theatmosjihcre — the tides, the
currents, and the diflcrent colorsof the ocean, and
other phenomena whicli happened to present them-
selves to his view — are of more value to the scien-
tific world than the observations of ten thousands
of other beings who, for a series of years, havo
traversed the same regions. Yet these pos.sessed,
on an average, the same sentient organs, the same
intellectual powers, though somewhat difti'rently
modified and directed, t!ie same natural capaci-
ties for obsei"vation as this distinguished philoso-
[)her, wliicli required only an impulse to be given
in a certain direction, in order to accomplish the
same ends. And was Humboldt more burdened
and perplexed, or did he feel less comfortable and
happy than his ignorant and groveling associatef
in the sliip that wafted them across the ocean ?
No. He felt emotions of delight and intellectual
enjoyments to which they were utter strangers.
While they were lolling on their hammocks, or
loitering upon deck, viewing every object with a
"brute up.conscious gaze," and finding no enjoy-
ment but in a glass of grog, — a train of interest-
ing reflections, having a relation to the past, the
present, and the future, passed through the mind
of this pliilosopher. He felt those exquisite emo-
tions which arise from perception of the beautiful
and the sublime; he looked forward to the advance-
ment of natural science as the result of his obser-
vations, and beheld a display of the wisdom and
grandeur of the Almighty in the diversified scenes
through which he passed. Such observations and
mental employments as those to which I allude,
so far from distracting the mind, and unfitting it
for the performance of official duties, would tend
to prevent that languor and ennui which result
fro.m mental inactivity, and would afford a source
of intellectual enjoyment amidst the uniformity
of scene, which is frequently presented in the midst
of the ocean.

From the whole that has been now stated on
this subject, it appears, that in order to make
science advance with accelerated steps, and to
multiply the sources of mental enjoyment, we havo
only to set the machinery of the human mind (at
present in a quiescent state) in motion, and to di-
rect its movements to those objects which are con-
genial to its native dignity and its high destination.
The capacity of the bulk of mankind for learning
mechanical employments, and for contriving and
executing plans of human destruction, proves that
tliey are competent to make all the researches re-
quisite for the improvement of science. The same
mental energies now exerted in mechanical labor
and in the arts of mischief, if properly directed,
and acting in unison, and accompanied with a
spirit of perseverance, would accomplish many
grand and beneficent effects, in relation both to the
physical and moral world, and would amply com-
pensate the occasional want of extraordinaiy de-
grees of mental vigor. Were only a hundred
millions of eyes and of intellects (or the tenth part
of the population of our globe), occasionally fixed
on all the diversified aspects, motions and relations
of universal nature, it could not fail of being fol-
lowed by the most noble and interesting results,
not only in relation to science, but to social and
moral order, and to the general melioration of man-
kind. Were this supposition realized, our travel-
ers, merchants, and mariners, along with the pro-
duce of foreign lands, might regularly import,with-
out the least injury to their commercial interests,
interesting facts, both physical and moral, scien-
tific observations, chemical experiments, and vari-
ous other fragments of useful information for

88

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

rearing the Tcmpk* of sciencp, and extending the
boundaries of human knowledge.

SECTION IV.

On the pi.easurks and enjoymexts connected
with the rursuits of science.

Man isa compound being; his nature consists of
two essential parts, body and mind. Each of these
parts of the human constitution lias its peculiar
uses, and is susceptible of peculiar gratifications.
The body is furnished witli external senses, which
are both the sources of pleasure and the inlets of
knowledge, and the Creator has furnished the uni-
verse with objects fitted for their exercise and
gratification. While these pleasures are directed
by the dictates of reason, and confined within the
limits prescribed by the Divine law, they are so
far from being unlawful, that in the enjoyment
of them we fulfill one of the purjjoses for which our
Creator brought us into existence. But the pursuit
of sensitive pleasures is not the ultimate end of
our being ; we enjoy such gratifications in com-
mon with the inferior animals ; and in so far as
we rest in them as our chief good, we pour con-
tempt on our intellectual nature, and degrade our-
selves nearly to the level of the beasts that perish.

Man is endowed with intellectual powers, as
well as W'ith organs of sessation, — with faculties
of a higher order, and which admit of more va-
ried and sublime gratifications than those which the
senses can produce. By these faculties we are
chiefly distinguished from the lower orders of ani-
mated existence ; in the proper exercise and direc-
tion of them, we experience the liighest and most
refined enjoyments of which our nature is suscep-
tible, and are gradually prepared for the employ-
ments of that immortal existence to which we
are destined. The corporeal senses were bestow-
ed chiefly in subserviency to the f>owers of intel-
lect, and to supply materials for thought and con-
templation ; and the pleasures peculiar to our in-
tellectual nature, rise as high above mere sensitive
enjoyments, as the rank of man stands in the scale
of existence, above that of the fowls of the air, or
the beasts of the forest. Such pleasures are pure
and refined ; they are congenial to the character
of a rational being ; they are more permanent
than mere sensitive enjoyments ; they can be en-
joyed when worldly comforts are withdrawn, and
when sensual gratifications can afibrd no delight ;
they afiT)rd solace in the hours of retirement from
the bustle of business, and consolation amidst the
calamities and afflictions to which humanity is ex-
posed ; and the more we acquire a relish for such
pleasures, the better shall we be prepared for asso-
ciating with intelligences of a higher order in the
future world.

Before proceeding to the more particular il-
lustration of this topic, let us consider the state
and the enjoyments of the man whose mind is
shrouded in ignorance. He grows up to manhood
like a vegetable, or like one of the lower animals
that are fed and nourished for the slaughter. He
exerts his physical powers, because such exertion
is necessary for his subsistence; were it other-
wise, we should most frequently find him dozing
over the fire, or basking in the sun, with a gaze
as dull and stupid as bis ox, regardless of every-
thing but the gratification of his appetites. He
has perhaps been taught the art of reading, but
has never applied it to the acquisition of know-
leJge. Plis views are chiefly caifined to the ob-

jects immediately around him, and to the daily
avocations in which he is employed. His know-
ledge of society is circumscribed within the limits
of his parish, and his views of the world in which
he dwells are confined within the range of the
country in which he resides, or of the blue hills
which skirt iiis horizon. Of the aspect of the
globe in other countries — of the various tribes
with which they are peopled — of the seas and
rivers, continents and islands which diversify the
landscape of the earth — of the numerous orders
of animated beings which people the ocean, the
atmosphere and the land, — of the revolutions of
nations, and the events which have taken place
in the history of the world, he has almost as little
conception as the animals that range the forest,
or bound through the lawns. In regard to the
boundless regions that lie beyond him in the
firmament, and the bodies tiiat roll there in mag-
nificent grandeur, he has the most confused and
inaccurate ideas; and he seldom troubles him-
self with inquiries in relation to .such subjects.
Whether the stars be great or small, whether they
be near us or at a distance, or whether they move
or stand still, is to him a matter of trivial impor-
tance. If the sun give him light by day, and the
moon by night, and the clouds distill their watery
treasures upon his parched fields, he is contented,
and leaves all such inquiries and investigations to
those who have little else to engage their atten-
tion. He views the canopy of heaven as merely
a ceiling to our earthly habitation, and the starry
orbs as only so many luminous studs or tapers to
diversify its aspect, and to afFord a glimmering
light to the benighted traveler. Of the discove-
ries which have been made in the physical sci-
ences in ages past, of the wonders of creation
which, they have unfolded to view, of the instru-
ments whicli have been invented for exploring tho
universe, and of the improvements which are
now going forward in every department of sci-
ence and art, and the prospects they are opening
to our view, he is almost as entirely ignorant as
if he had been fixed under the frozen pole, or
chained to the surface of a distant planet. H©
considers learning as consisting chiefly in the
knowledge of grammar, Greek and Latin; and
philosophy and astronomy, as the arts of telling
fortunes and predicting the state of the weather;
and experimental chemistry, as allied to the arts
of magic and necromancy. He has no idea of
the manner in which the understanding may
be enlightened and expanded, he has no relish
for intellectual pursuits, and no conception of
the pleasures they afford, and he sets no value
on knowledge but in so far as it may tend to in-
crease his riches and his sensual gratifications.
He has no desire for making improvements in his
trade or domestic arrangements, and gives no
countenance to those useful inventions and pub-
lic improvements which are devised by others.
He sets himself against every innovation, whether
religious, political, mechanical, or agricultural,
and is determined to abide by the "good old cus-
toms" of his forefathers, hcuvever iri'ational and
absurd. Were it dependent upon him, the mora!
world would stand still as the material world was
supposed to do in former times; ail useful inven-
tions and improvements vv-ould cease, existing
evils would never be remedied, ignorance and
superstition would universally prevail, the human
mind be arrested in its progress to ))erfection, and
man would never arrive at the true dignity of hia
intellectual nature.

R is evident that such an individual (and tb«
world contains thousands and millions of such

PLEASURES CONNECTED WITH SCIENCE.

39

eAaracters), can never have liis min;l elevated to
those sublime objects and contemplations which
enrapture the man of science, nor feel those pure
and exquisite pleasures which cultivated minds so
frequently experience; nor can he form tliose
lofty and expansive ideas of the Deity which the
grandeur and magnifieciice of his works are cal-
culated to inspire. He is left as a prey to all those
foolish notions and vain alarms which are engen-
dered by ignorance and superstition; and he
swallows, without the least hesitation, all the ab-
surdities and childish tales respecting witches,
hobgoblins, specters and apparitions, which have
been handed down to him by his forefathers in
former generations. And wliile he tiius gorges
his mind with I'ooleries an<l absurdities, he spurns
at the discoveries of science as impositions on the
ciedulity of mankind, and contrary to reason and
common sense. That the sun is a million of
times larger than the earth, that light flies from
his body at the rate of two hundred thousand
miles in a moment of time, and that the earth is
whirling round its axis from day to day, witii a
velocity of a thousand miles every hour, are re-
garded by him as notions far more improbable
and extravagant than the story of the " Wonder-
ful Lamp," and all the other tales of the "Ara-
bian Night's Entertainments." In his hours of
leisure from his daily avocations, his thoughts
either run wild among the most groveling objects,
or sink into sensuality or inanity, and solitude
and retirement present no charms to his vacant
mind. While human beings are thus immersed
in ignorance, destitute of rational ideas, and of a
solid substratum of thought, they can never ex-
perience those pleasures and enjoyments which
flow from the exercise of the understanding, and
which correspond to the dignity of a rational and
Immortal nature.

On tiie other hand, the man whose mind is
Irradiated with the light of substantial science,
has views, and feelings, and exquisite enjoyments
to which the former is an entire stranger. In
consequence of the numerous and multifarious
Ideas he has acquired, he is introduced, as it were,
into a new world, where ho is entertained with
scenes, objects, and movements, of which a mind
enveloped in ignorance can form no conception.
He can trace back the stream of time to its co:n-
mencement; and, gliding along its downward
course, can survey the most memorable events
which have happened in every part of its pro-
gress from the primeval ages to the present day —
the rise of empires, the fall of kings, the revolu-
tioiis of nations, the battles of warriors, and the
important events which have followed in tlieir
train — the progress of civilization, and of arts and
sciences — the judgments which have been in-
flicted on wicked nations — the dawniiigs of Di-
vine mercy toward our fallen race — the manifes-
tation of the Son of God in our nature — the
physical changes and revolutions which have
taken place in the constitution of our globe — in
sliort, the whole of the leading events in the chain
of Divine dispensation from the bi^ginning of the
world to tiie period in which we live. With his
mental eye he can survey the terraqueous globe
in all its vari-ty of aspects ; contemplate the
continents, islands and oceans which compose its
exterior, the numerous rivers by which it is in-
dented, the lofty ranges of mountains which di-
versify its surface, its winding caverns, its for-
ests, lakes, sandy deserts, ice-islands, whirlpools, •
boiling springs, glaciers, sulphuric mountains, hi- '
luminous lakes, and the states and empires into
which it is distributed, the tides and currents of i

the ocean, the ice-bergs of the polar regions, and
the verdant scenes of the torrid zone. lie can
climb, in imagination, to the sunmiit of the flam-
ing volcano, listen to its subterraneous bellow-
ings, behold its lava bursting from its mouth and
rolling down its sides like a flaming river — de-
scend into the subterranean grotto, survey from
the top of the Andes, the lightnings flashing and
the thunders rolling far beneath him — stand on
the brink of the dashing cataract and listen to its
roaring.s — contemplate the ocean rearing its bil-
lows in a storm, and the hurricane and tornaoo
tearing up forests by tiieir roots, and tossing tlieni
about as stubble. Sitting at his fireside, during
tlie blasts of winter, he ci-.n survey the numerous
tribes of mankind scattered over the various cli-
mates of the earth, and entertain himself with
views of their manners, customs, religion, laws,
trade, manufactures, marriage ceremonies, civil
and ecclesiastical governments, arts, sciences,
cities, towns and villages, and the animals pecu-
liar to every region. In his rural walks he can-
i not only appreciate the beneficence of Naturo
and the beauties and harmonies of the vegetable
kingdom, in their exterior aspect, but can also
penetrate into the hidden processes which are
going on in the roots, trunks and leaves of plants
and flowers, and contemplate the numerous ves-
sels through which the sap is flowing frona their
roots through the trunks and brandies, the mil-
lions of pores through which their odoriferous ef-
fluvia exhale, their fine and delicate texture, their
inicroscopical beauties, their orders, genera, and
species, and their uses in the economy of nature.
With the help of his microscope, he can enter
into a world unknown to the ignorant, and alto-
gether invisible to the unassisted eye. In every
plant and flower which adorns the field, in every
leaf of the forest, in the seeds, prickles and down
of all vegetables, he perceives beauties and har-
monies, and exquisite contrivances, of which,
without this instrument, he could have formed
no conception. In every scale of a haddock he
perceives a beautiful piece of net-work, admira-
bly contrived and arranged, and in the scale of a
sole a still more diversified structure, which no
art could imitate, terminated with pointed spikes,
and formed with admirable regularity. Where
nothing but a speck of molJiness appears to the
naked eye, he beholds a forest of mushrooms with
long stalks, and with leaves and blossoms dis-
tinctly visible. In the eyes of a common fly,
where others can see only two small protuber-
ances, he perceives several thousands of beautiful
transparent globes, exquisitely rounded and po-
lished, placed with the utmost legularity in rows,
crossing each other like a kind of lattice-work,
and forming the most admirable ]>iece of mechan-
ism which the eye can contemplate. The small
dust that covers the wings of moths and butter-
flies he perceives to consist of an infinite multi-
tude of feathers of various forms, not much un-
like the feuthers of birds, and adorned with the
most bright and vivid colors. In an animal so
small that the naked eye can scarcely distinguish
it as a visible point, he perceives a head, mouth,
eyes, legs, joints, bristles, hair, and other animal
parts and functions, as nicely formed and ad-
justed, and endowed with as much vivacity,
agility and intelligence as the larger animals. In
the tail of a small fish, or the foot of a frog, he
can perceive the variegated branching of the veins
and arteries, and the blood circulating through
them with amazing velocity. Im a drop of stag-
nant water he perceives thousands of living bfa-
iugs of various shapes and sizes, beautifully

40

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

formed, and swimminif with wanton vivacity like
iislies in the midst of tlii- ocean. In siiort, l)y this
Instrument lie perceives that the vvliulo earth
is full of animation, and that there is not a single
tree, plant or llower, and scarcely a drop of water
that is not teeming with life and peopled witii its
peculiar inhabitants. He thus enters, as it were,
iut<» a new world, invisibla to otiier eyes, where
every object in the animal, veg:>table and mineral
kingdoms, presents a new and interesting aspect,
and unfolds beauties, harmonies, coiitrasls, and ex-
quisite contrivances, altogether inconceivable by
the ignorant and unreflecting mind.

In the invisible atmosphere which surrounds
him, where other minds discern nothing but an
immense blank, he beholds an assemblage of won-
ders, and a striking scene of Divine Wisdom and
Omnipotence. He views this invisible ag.Mit not
only as a materiul but as a compound substance —
compounded of two opposite principles, the one
the source of flame and animal life, and the other
destructive to both, and producing by their differ-
ent combinations, the most divcrsiiied and benefi-
cent effects. He perceives the atmosphere, as tlie
agent under the Almighty, which produces the
germination and growth of plants, and all the
beauties of the vegetable creation — which pre-
aei-ves water in a liquid state — supports fire and
flame, and produces animal heat, which sustains
the clouds, and gives buoyancy to the feathered
ribes — which is the cause of winds — tl;e vehicle
if smells — the medium of sounds — the source of
All the pleasures we derive from the harmonies of
music- -the cause of that universal light and
splendor which is diffused around us, and of the
advantages we derive from the morning and even-
ing twilight. In short, he contemplates it as the
prime mover in a variety of machines, — as impel-
ling ships across the ocean, blowing our furnaces,
grinding our corn, raising water from the deepest
pits, extinguishing fi.-es, setting power-looms in
motion, propelling steam-boats along rivers and
canals, raising balloons to the region of the clouds,
and performing a thousand other beneficent agen-
cies,without which our globe would cease to be a
habitable world. All which views and contem-
plations have an evident tendency to enlarge the
capacity of the mind, to stimulate its faculties,
and to produce rational enjoyment.

Again, — the man of knowledge, even v/ben
shrouded in darkness, and in solitude, where other
minds could find no enjoyment, can entertain
himself with the most sublime contemplations.
He can trace the huge globe on wliich we stand
flying through the depths of space, carrying
along with it its vast population, at the rate
of sixty thousand miles every hour, and, by the
inclination of its axis, bringing about the alter-
nate succession of summer and winter, spring and
har\-est. By the aid of his telescojie he can trans-
port himself tov/ard the moon, and survey the
circular plains, the deep caverns, the conical hi!ls,
the lofty peaks, the shadows of the hills and vales,
and the rugged and romantic mountain scenery
which diversify the surface of this orb of nio-ht.
By the help of the same instrument, he can rano-e
through the planetary system, wing his way
through the regions of space along with the
swiftest orbs, and trace ma?iy of the physical as-
pects aud revolutions which have a relation to dis-
tant worlds. He can transport himself to the
planet Saturn, and behold a stupendous ring
600,p00 miles in circumference, revolving in ma-
jestic grandeur eveiy ten hours, around a globe
nine hundred times larger than the earth, while
seven moons larger than ours, along with an innu-

merable host of stars, display their radiance, to
adorn the firmament of tliat magnilicent world
He can wing his flight to the still more distant re
gious of theainiverse, leaving tlie sun aud all his
planets behind him, until they appear like a
scarcely discernible speck in creation, and con-
template thousands and millions of stars and
starry systems, beyond the range of the unassisted
eye, and wander among suns and worlds dispersed
throughout the boundless dimensions of space.
He can fill up in his imagination, those blanks
which astronomy has never airectly explored, aud
conceive thousands of systems and ten thousands
of worlds, beyond all that is visible by the optic
tube, stretching out to iniiiiity on every hand, —
new creations incessantly starting into existence-
peopled with intelligences of various orders, and
all under the superintendence and government of
" the King EtL-raal, Immortal and Invisible,'
whose power is omnipotent, and the limits of his
dominions past fin.iing out.

It is evident that a mind capable of such excur-
sions and contemplations as I have now supposed,
must experience enjoyments infinitely superior to
those of the indiviaual whose soul is enveloped in
intellectual darkness. If substantial happiness is
chi-fly seated in the mind, if it consists in the
vigorous exercise of its faculties, if it depends on
the multiplicity of objects which lie. within the
range of its contemplation, if it is augmented by
the view of scenes of beauty and sublimity, and
displays of inlinite intelligence and power, if it is
connected with tranquillity of mind, v\^hich gene-
rally accompanies intellectual pursuits, aud with
the subjugation of the pleasures of sense to the
dictates of reason — the enlightened mind must
enjoy gratifications as far superior to those of the
ignorant, as man is superior, in station and ca-
pacity, fo the worms of the dust.

In order to illustrate this topic a little farther, I
sliall select a few facts and deductio:is in relation
to science, which demoustrats the interesting na-
ture and deliglitful tendency of scientific pursuits.

Every species of rational information has a
tezidency to produce pleasing emotions. There is
a certain gratiiicatioti in becoming acquainted
with objects and operations of which we were
formerly ignorant, aud that, too, altogether inde-
pendent of the practical tendency of such know-
ledge, of the advantages we may expect to reap
from it, or the sensitive enjoyments with which it
may be accompanied. A taste for knowledge, a
capacity to acquire it, and a pleasure accompany-
ing its acquisition, form a part of the constitution
of every min 1. The Creator has implanted in
the human mind a principle of curiositj', and an-
nexed a pleasure to its gratification, to excite us
to investigations of the wonders of creation ho
has presented before us, to lead us to just concep-
tions of his infinite perfections, and of the rela-
tion in which we stand to him as the subjects of
his government. We all know, witli what a
lively interest most persons peruse novels and
romances, where hair-breadth escapes, mysterious
incidents, and tales of wonder are depicted with
all the force and beauty of language. But the
scenes detailed in such writings produce only a
momentary enjo3'ment. Being retraced as only
the fictions of a lively imagination, they pasi
away like a dream or a vision of the night, leav-
ing the understanding bewildered, aud destitute
of an}' solid i:nprovement. In order to improve
the intellectual faculties while we gratify the
principle of curiosity, it is only requisite, that we
direct the attention to facts instead of fictions;
and when the real scenes of the universe are pn».

PLEASURES CONNECTED WITH SCIENCE

11

sented in an interesting appect, they are calcu-
lated to produce emotions of wonder and delight
even superior to those excited by the most hi<^hly
wrought tales of fiction and romance. Tlie fol-
lowing facts and considerations will perliaps tend
i« corroborate tliis position.

In the. first place, the number of effects produced
Oy a sin<jle principle in nature, is calculated to ex-
cite emotions of admiration and delight. From
the simple principle of yraoitaiion, for instance,
proceed all the beauties and sublimities which
arise from the ineanderingrills, the majestic rivers,
and the roaring cataracts — it causes the moun-
tains to rest on a solid basis, and confines the
ocean to its appointed channels — retains the in-
habitants of tlie earth to its surface, and prevents
tliem from flying ofi' in wild confusion through
Uie voids of space — it produces the descent of
raius and dews, and the alternate flux and reflux
of the tides — regulates the various movements of
ail animals — forms mechanical powers — gives im-
pulsion to numerous machines — rolls the moon
round the earth, and prevents her from flying otF
to the distant regions of space — extends its influ-
ence from the moon to the earth, from tho earth
to the moon, and frojn the sun to the remotest
planets, preserving surrounding worlds in their
proper courses, and connecting the solar system
with other worlds and systems in the remote
spaces of the universe. When a stick of sealing
wax is rubbed with a piece of flannel, it attracts
feathers, or small bits of paper; when a long tube
of glass, or a cat's back is rubbed in the dark,
they emit flashes of fire, accompanied with a
snapping noise. Now, is it not deligiitful to a ra-
tional mind to know, that the same principle
which causes wax or amber to attract light sub-
stances, and glass tubes or cylinders to emit
sparks of fire, produces the lightnings of heaven,
and all the sublime phenomena whicii accompany
a violent thunder-storm, and, in combination with
other agents, produces also the hery meteor which
sweeps through the sky with its luiiiinous train,
and the beautiful coruscations of the aurora bo-
roalis? There are more t!wn fifty thousand dif-
ferent species of plants in the vegetable kingdom,
all differing from one another in their size, struc-
ture, flowers, leaves, fruits, mode of propagation,
internal vessels, medicinal virtues, and the odors
they exhale. Who would imagine that this im-
mense assemblage of vegetable productions which
adorns the surface of the earth in every clime,
with such a diversity of forms, fruits and colors,
are the result of the combination of four or five
simple substances variously modified by the hand
of the Creator? Yet it is an undoubted fact, as-
certained from chemical analysis, that all vegeta-
ble substances, from the invisible mushroom which
adheres to a spot of mokliness, to the cedar of
Lebanon and the Banian-tree, which would cover
with its shade an army of ten thousand men, —
are solelj' composed of tlie following natural prin-
ciples,— Caloric, Light, Water, Air and Carbon.

Again, 1= it not wond"rful,that the invisible at-
mosphere sliould compress our bodies every mo-
ment with a weight of more than thirty thousand
pounds without our feeling it, and the whole
earth witli a weight of 12,04o,46s,-iJ0,0i);),000,000
of pounds, or five thousand billions of tons, that
this pressure is essentially necessary to our exist-
ence, and that the small quantity of air within us,
whicli would not weigh above a single ounce, by
its strong clastic force, counteracts tne effects of
this trenjeniLOUs pressure upon our bodies, and
prevents our being crushed to pieces — that the
Kune cause prevents our habitations from falling

upon us and crushing us to death, without which
our glass windov/s would be shattereJ to atoms,
and our most stately edifices tumbled into ruins! —
that this atmosphere is at tho same time perform-
ing an iunnense variety of operations iji Nature
and Art — insiimating itself into the |)orr« and
sap-vessels of plants and flowers — pro.hiciiig re-
spiration in all living beings, and sup; ortiiig all
the processes of life and vegetation tiuoiighont
the animal and vegetable creation — that iis pres-
sure produces tlie process of what is cali'd suc-
tion and cupping — causes snails and periwinkles
to adhere to the rocks on which they are foiinJ —
gives ellect to the adhesion of bo. lies by means of
mortar and cement — raises water in our forcing-
pumps and fire-engines — supports tho quicksilver
in our barometers — prevents the water of our
seas and rivers from boiling and evaporating into
steam — and promotes the action of our steam
engines while raising water from deep pits, ana
while propelling vessels along seas an.i rivers!

In the next place, science contributes to the
gratification of tho human mind bij enabling us to
trace, in many objects and operations, surjirising
resemblances, icJiere we should least of all have ex-
pected them. Who could, at first sight, imagine,
that the process of breathing is a species of com-
bustion, or burning — that the dianjond is nothing
else than carbon in a crystalized state, and differs
only in a very slight degree from a piece of char-
coal— that water is a compound of two invisible
airs or gases, and that one of these ingredients is
the principle of flame! — that the air wiiich pro-
duces suffocation and death in coal-mines and
subterraneous grottos, is the same substanca
which gives briskness to ale, beer, and soda wa-
ter, and the acid flavor to many mineral springs^
that the air we breathe is composed of the same
ingredients and nearly in the same proportions as
nitric acid or aquafortis, which can dissolve al-
most all the metals, and a single draught of which
would instantly destroy the human frame — that
the color of white is a mixture or compound of all
tlie other colors, red, orange, ydhic, green, blue,
indigo, and violet, and consequently, that the white
light of the sun produces all that diversity of co-
loring which adorns the face of nature — that the
same principb? which causes our fires to burn,
forms acids, produces the rust of metals, and pro-
motes the growth of plants by night — that plants
breathe and ])erspire as well as animals — that car-
bonic acid gas, or fixed air, is the product both of
vegetation, of burning, of fermentation and of
breathing — that it remains indestructible by age,
and, in all its diversified combinations, still pre-
serves its identity — that the air which burns in
our street-lamps and illuminates our shops and
mannfactoiies, is the same which causes a balloon
to rise above the clouds, and likewise extinguishes
flame when it is immersed in a body of this gas —
that the leaves of vegetables which rot upon the
ground and appear to be lost forever, are con-
verted by the oxygen of the atmosphere into car-
bonic acid gas, and this rerrj same carbon is, in
process of time, absorbed by a new race of vege-
tables, which it clothes with a new foliage, and
again renews the face of nature — and that the
same principle which causes the sensation oi heat
is the cause of fluidity, expands bodies in every
direction, enters into every operation in nature,
flies from the sun at the rate of l'J5,000 miles in
a second of time, and, by its powerful influence,
prevents the whole matter of the universe from
being converted into a solid mass!

Wliat, then, can be more delightful, to a being
furnished witli such powere as man, than to trace

42

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

the secret macliinery by which the God of nature
Bccoinpiislu's liis ilt-yigiis in the visible, world, and
diiplays his iiilinite power and inteilijrence — to
entir into the hidden springs oF Nature's opera-
tions, to follow her through all her winding re-
cesses, and to perceive, from what simple princi-
ples and causes the most sublime and diversitied
phenomena are produced! It is with this view
tliat Iho Almighty hath set before us his wondrous
works, not to be overlooked, or belield with a
*' brulo unconscious gaze," but to be investigated,
in or..er that they may be admired, and tliat in
Eucii investigations we may enjoy a sacreil plea-
sure in contemplating the results of liis Wisdom
and Intelligence.

In the third place, science contributes to our
enjoyment by the grand and suhlrine objects she
presents before us. lu consequence of the inves-
tigations which have been made to determine the
distances and magnitudes of the heavenly bodies,
objects of magniricence and grandeur are now
presented to the view of the enlightened mind of
which former ages could form no conception.
These objects are magnificent in respect of mag-
nitude, of motion, of the vast spaces which intervene
between than, and of the noble purposes for which
tliey are destined.

What a sublime idea, for example, is presented
to the view by such an object as the planet Jupi-
ter,— a globe fourteen hundred times larger than
the world in which we dwell, and whose surface
would contain a population a hundred times more
numerous than all the inhabitants that have ex-
isted on our globe since the creation! And how
is the sublimity of such an idea augmented when
we consider, that tliis immense body is revolving
round its axis at the rate of twenty-eight thou-
sand miles in an hour, and is flying, at the same
time, through the regions of space, twenty-nine
thousand miles every hour, carrying along with
it four moons, each of them larger than the earth,
during its whole course round the center of its
motion! And if this planet, which appears only
Hke a luminous speck on the nocturnal sky, pre-
sents such an august idea, when its magnitude
and motions are investigated, what an astonishing
idea is presented to the mind when it contem-
plates the size and splendor of the sun, — a body
wliich would contain within its bowels nine hun-
dred globes larger than Jupiter, and thirteen hun-
dred thousand globes of the bulk of the earth, —
wliich darts its rays, in a few moments, to the re-
motest bounds of the planetary system, producing
light and color, and life and vegetation tiirough-
out surrounding worlds! And how must our as-
tonishment be still increased, when we consider
the number of such globes which exist throughout
the universe; that within the range of our tele-
scopes more than eighty millions of globes, simi-
lar to the sun in size and in splendor, are arranged
^t immeasurable distances from each other, dif-
fusing their radiance through the immensity of
space, and enlivening surrounding worlds with
their benign influence, beside the innumerable
multitudes, which our reason tells us, must exist
beyond all that is visible to the eyes of mortals!

But the motions, no less than the magnitudes
of such bodies, present ideas of sublimity. That
a globe * as large as the earth should fly through
the celestial regions with a velocity of seventy-six
thousand miles an hour, — that another globe t
should move at the rate of one thousand seven
haindred and fifty miles in a minute, and a hun-
dred and five thousand miles an hour, — that even

' The planet Venns.

t The J lanet Mercury.

Saturn, with all his assemblage of lings and
moons, should be carried along liis course, with a
velocity of twenty-two thousand miles an hour, —
that some of the comets, when near the sud,
should fly with the amazing velocity of eight
hundred thousand miles an hour, — thtil, in aU
probability, the sun himself, with all his attend-
ing jilanets, beside their own proper n'otions,
are carried around some distant center at the rnto
of more than sixty thousand miles every Jiour;
and that thousands and millions of systems aro
moving in the same ra]>id manner, are facts so
astonisiiing, and so far exceeding everything we
behold around us on the sujface of the earth, that
the imagination is overpowered and confounded
at the idea of the astonisliing forces which are in
operation throughout the universe, and of the
power and energy by which they ai'e produced;
and every rational being feels a sublime pleasure
in the contemplation of such objects which is al-
together unknown to the ignorant mind.

The vast and immeasurable spaces which inter-
vene between the great bodies of the universe
likewise convey august and sublime conceptions
Between the earth and the sun there intervenes
a space so vast, that a cannon ball, flying with
the velocity of five hundred miles an hour, would
not reach that luminary in twenty years; and a
mail-coach, moving at its utmost speed, would
not arrive at its surface in less than twelve hun-
dred years; and, were it to proceed from the sun
toward the planet Herschel, it would not arrive
at that body after the lapse oi twenty-tico thousand
years. And yet the sun, at that immense dis-
tance, exerts his attractive energy, retains that
huge planet in its orbit, and dispenses light and
color, life and animation over every part of its
surface. But all such spaces, vast as at first sight
they appear, dwindle, as it were, into a span,
when compared with those immeasurable spaces
which are interposed between us and the regions
of the stars. Between the earth and the nearest
fixed star a space intervenes so vast and incom-
prjhensible, that a ball flying with the velocity
above mentioned, would not pass through it in
four millions and five hundred thousand years;
and as there are stars, visible through telescopes,
at least a hundred times farther distant from our
globe, it would require such a body four hundred
millions of years, or a period 67,000 times greater
than that wliich has elapsed since the Mosaic cre-
ation, before it could arrive at those distant re-
gions of immensity.

The grand and noble designs for which tho
great bodies, to which I have adverted, are in-
tended, suggest, likewise, a variety of interest-
ing and sublime reflections. These designs un-
doubtedly are, to display the ineffable glories of
the Eternal Mind, — to demonstrate the immen-
sity, omnipotence and wisdom of Him who
formed the universe, — and to sen'o as so many
worlds for the residence of incalculable numbers
of intelligent beings of every order. And, what
an immense variety of interesting objects is pre-
sented to the mind when its views are directed
to the numerous orders and gradations of intelli-
gences that may people the universe, — the mag-
nificent scenes that may be displayed in every
world, — their moral economy, and the important
transactions that may have taken place in their
history under the arrangements of the Divine
government!

Such are some of the scenes of grandeur which
science unfolds to every enlightened mind. The
contemplation of such objects has an evident ten-
dency to enlarge tlie capacity of the soul, — to

PLEASURES CONNECTED WITH SCIENCE.

48

raise the affections above mean and groveling
pursuits, to give man a more impressive idea of
the dignity of his rational and immortal nature,
and of the attributes of that Almighty Being by
whom he is uplield, and to make him rejoice in
the possession of faculties capable of being ex-
ftrcised on scenes and objects so magnificent and
Bublime.

In the fourth place, science administers to our
enjoyment by the variety of novel and interesting
tohjccts it exhibits. Almost every department of
natural science presents to the untutored mind
an assemblage of objects, new and strange, which
tend to rouse its faculties, and to excite to impor-
tant inquiries and interesting reflections. The
science of mechanics presents us with many cu-
rious combinations of niechunicul powers, which,
from the simplest principles, produce the most
powerful and astonishing effects. " What can
be more strange (says a profound and energetic
writer*) than that an ounce weight should ba-
lance hundreds of pounds by the intervention of
a few bars of thin iron?" And when we consi-
der that all the mechanical powers may be re-
duced to the lever, the wheel and axle, the pulley,
the inclined plane, the wedge and the screw, how
astonisliing are the forces exerted, and the effects
produced, by their various combinations in wheel-
carriages, mills, cranes, thrashing-machines, and
pile-engines! Hydrostatics teaches us the won-
derful fact, that a few pounds of water, without
the aid of any machinery, will, by mere pressure,
produce an almost irresistible force; or, in other
words, that any quantity of fluid, however small,
may be made to counterpoise any quantity, how-
ever large ; and hence a very strong hogshead
has been burst to pieces, and the water scattered
about with incredible force, by means of water
conveyed through a very small perpendicular
tube of great length. On the same principle,
and by the same means, the foundations of a
large building might be shattered, and the whole
structure overthrown. Magnetism discloses to
us such singular facts as the following: — that a
small piece of steel, when rubbed by the load-
stone, and n.cely poised, will place itself in a
direction nearly north and south, so as to point
nearly toward the poles of the world, — that the
north and s'^uth poles of two loadstones will at-
tract, and two north or two south poles repel each
other; and that the power of a magnet will pass
through a thick board, and turn round a com-
pass-needle, with great velocity, though placed
at a considerable distance.

The science of optics likewise discloses a va-
riety of astonishing truths, and is no less replete
with wonders. How wonderful the fact, that
light proceeds from the sun, and other luminous
bodies, with a velocity of 195,000 miles in a mo-
ment of time; that myriads of myriads of rays are
flying off from visible objects toward every point
of the compass, crossing each other in all direc-
tions, and yet accurately depicting the same
images of external objects in thousands of eyes at
the same moment, — that the thousands of mil-
lions of rays of light which proceed from any par-
ticular object must be compressed into a space
not more than one-eighth of an inch in diameter,
before they can enter the pupil of the eye, and
produce vision, — that the images of all the objects
which compose an extensive landscape are de-
picted on the bottom of the eye, in all their co-
lors and relative proportions, within a space less
than half an inch in diameter, that the eye can

* Lord Brougham.

perceive objects distinctly at the distance of six
inches, and likewise at the distance of ten, fifty,
or an hundred miles, serving the purpose both of
a microscope and a telescope, and can be instan-
taneously adjusted to serve either as the one or as
the other, — and that the variegated coloring wliich
ap|)ears in the scenery of nature is not in the ob-
jects themselves, but in the light which falls ui)on
them, without which all the scenes of creation
would wear a uniform aspect, and one object
would be undistinguishable from anotherl

The instruments which the science of optics
has been the means of constructing, are also ad-
mirable in their eflects and productive of rational
entertainment. . How wonderful, that, by means
of an optic lens, an image is depicted in a dark
chamber, on a white table, in which we may
perceive the objects of an extensive landscape de-
lineated in all their colors, motions and propor-
tions, and so accurately represented, that we even
distinguish the countenances of individuals at the
distance of a mile, — that we can see objects dis-
tinctly when a thick board, or a piece of metal,
is interposed between them and our eye, — that
the images of objects can be made to hang in the
air either upright or inverted, and that represen-
tations either of the living or of the dead can be
made to start up instantly before the view of a
spectator in a darkened room, — that, by admitting
into a chamber a few rays of white light from the
sun through a prism, all the colors of light may
be seen beautifully painted on a piece of paper, —
that a single object may be multiplied to an inde-
finite number, and that a few colored bits of
glass may be made by reflection to exhibit an in-
finite diversity of beautiful and variegated forms!
How admirable the effects of the telescope, by
which we may see objects as distinctly at the dis-
tance of two or three miles as if they were placed
within a few yards of us, by which we can pene-
trate into the celestial regions, and behold the dis-
tant wonders of .the planetarj' system, and the
millions of stars dispersed through infinite space,
as distinctly as if we were actually transported by
a supernatural power several hundreds of millions
of miles into the regions of the firmament! And
how curious the circumstance, that we can, by
this instrument, contemplate such objects in all
directions and positions, — that we can view them
either as erect, or as turned upside down, — that
we can perceive the spires, houses and windows
of a distant city when our backs are turned di-
rectly opposite to it, and onr faces in a contrary
rlirection — the rings of Saturn and the moons of
Jupiter, when we are look'mg dotonward with our
backs turned to these objects, — that we can make
an object on our right hand or our left, appear as
if directly before us, and can cause a terrestrial
landscape to appear above us, as if it were sus-
pended in the sky.* By the help of the micro-
scope we can exhibit to a number of spectators at
the -same moment, a small animal scarcely distin-
gui:fhable by the naked eye, magnified to the size
of ten or fifteen inches in length, and distinguish
not only its limbs, joints, mouth and eyes, but
even the motions of its bowels, and other internal
movements; and in every department of nature
can contemplate an assemblage of beauties, deli-
cate contextures, and exquisite contrivances, which
excite the highest admiration, and which would
otherwise have appeared incredible and incom-
prehensible to the human mind.

The sciences of electricity and galvanism like-
wise display facts both curious and astonishing.

This is effected by means of the " aerial reflecting telo.

44

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE

I H

How wonderful the operations of the electric f.uid,
which can suddenly contract the muscles of ani-
mals, and give a violent sliock to a hundred or a
thousand persons at the same moment — which
moves with such amazing rapidity, that, in a few
seconds of time, it might be made to fly to the
remotest regions of the globe — which melts iron
wire, sets fire to gunpowder and other inflamma-
ble substances, destroys the polarity of the mag-
netic needle, and promotes the vegetation of
plants and the perspiration of animals — which
can be drawn in vivid sparks from different parts
of the human body, and made to descend from the
clouds in streams of fire! And how powerful
and astonishing the effects cf the galvanic agen-
cy— ^which makes charcoal burn with a brilliant
white flame, decomposes water into its elemen-
tary parts, and causes platina, the hardest and
heaviest of the metals, to melt as readily as wax
in the flame of a candle — which produces th;
most violent convulsions on the muscular sys-
tem, causes a hare to move its feet, and a fowl' to
clap its wings, with force and energy, after life is
exiinrf — fhrows the countenance, even of a dead
mail, into appalling grimaces and contortions,
and excite.-! the most rapid movements in his hands
auj limbs, to the horror and astonishment of all
beholders!

The science of chemistry, throughout all its de-
partn^ents, is no less replete with wonders. How

scope," lately invented by the nuthor. Ttie Tollowing is a
general representation of this telescope in profile.

AB is a tuhe of mahosany about three inches lonir, which
serves as a socket for holding the speculum; CD an'arin at-
tached to the tube, abont the lensth of the focal distance of
the mirror, consisting of two separate pieces C and 1), the
latter of which slides under the former, throue'h the brass
sockets EF. To the un<ler part of the socket F is attached
a brass nut with a female screw, in which the male screw
ah acts by applying the band to the nob r, which serves for
adjnstin? the instrument to distinct vision. G is the brass
tube which receives the eye-pieces. In looking through this
telescope, the right eye is applied at the point H, the back
is directly toward the object, and the observer's head is un-
derstood to be uncovered. When a diagonal eve-piece is
applied, the object may be seen either to the right or to the
left, or at ri^ht angles to its true position, or, it may be
made to appear either upward, as if hanging in the air, or
oownward, as if below the surface of the earth. A particu-
lar description of this instrument may be seen in "The
Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal " for July, ]St>6, pp.
41-a'2, and in th« London Encyclopaidia." Art. Telescope.

astonishing are many of tbi tacts (vhltm it dis-
closes, of which the following are meiely speci-
mens!— Tliat all the productions of nature in tne
animal and vegetable kingdoms, are composed of
a very few simple substances, many of which aro
invisible gases — that water is chiefly composed
of an inflammable principle — that the acids, such
as aquafortis and oil of vitriol, are formed of dif-
ferent kinds of air — that an invisible fluid, one
of the ingredients of the air we breathe, will
cause a rod of iron to burn with brilliancy, and
phosphorus to produce a splendor which dazzlea
the eyes of every beholder — that the diamond,
notwithstanding its value and brilliancy, is com-
posed of tlie same materials as coal — that oxymu-
riatic acid, or the bleaching gas, discharges all
vegetable colors, and, in the course of a few mi-
nutes, will change a piece of printed calico into a
pure ichite; and likewise burns all the metals,
dissolves gold and platina, and suffocates all ani-
mals that breathe it, after one or two inspira-
tions— that there are metals much lighter than
water, which swim in that fluid and burn .spon-
taneously with a bright red light, and when
thrown info the mineral acids, inflame and burn
on the surface, and in oxygen and oxymuriatic
acid gas, produce a white flame, and throw out
numerous bright sparks and scintillations, — that
a certain kind of air, called the nitrous oxide,
when inhaled into the lur.g.s, produces an extra-
ordinary elevation of the animal spirits, an irre-
sistible propensity to laughter, a rapid flow of vi-
vid ideas, and a fhousund delightful emotions,
without anj' subsequent feidings of debility or e.x-
haustion — and, fliat it is not altogether improba-
ble, according, to tlie deductions of some modern
chemists, f hat " oarj/ven an;i IiT/drngen, with the as-
sLstance of the solar lljht, are the only elementary
substances employed in the constitution of the
whole universe;" so that Nature, in all her ope-
rations, works the most infinitely diVjCrsified ef-
fects, by the slightest modifications in the means
she employs.

Such are only a few specimens of the curioua
and interesting subjects which the physical sci-
ences present to the reflecting mind. And is it
conceivable that a rational being can make such

PLEASURES CONNECTED WITH SCIENCE

45

objects as those I have now specified the subject
of his frequent study and contemplation, and not
feel pleasures and cnjoj-nients far superior to those
of the mass of mankind, who are eilJier immersed
in sensuality, or enveloped with the mists of ig-
norance? The man who has such subjects to
etudy and investigate, and such objects to con-
template, can never be destitute of enjoyment.
If happiness de])ends on the activity of the mind,
and the range of objects presented before it, where-
ever he is placed, — whether at home or abroad, in
Ihe city or in the country, he can never be at a
loss for means of mental gratification, and of in-
creasing his stock of intellectual wealth. He
need not envy the rich and the noble, on account
of the elegance of tlirir mansions and the splen-
dor of their equipage; for the magnificence and
glories of the universe, and all the beauties of ter-
restrial nature lie before him, and are at all times
ready to minister to his enjoyment. In investi-
gating the admirable arrangements which appear
in the economy of creation, in tracing through-
cut that economy the perfections of his Creator,
and in looking forward to a nobler state of exis-
tence where his views of the divine empire shall
be expanded, he can enjoy a satisfaction and de-
light which the wealth of this world cannot be-
stow, and which its frowns and calamities cannot
destroy.

Beside the pleasures derived from a contempla-
tion of the doctrines and the facts of science, —
there is a positive gratification in tracing the steps
by whichihe discoveries of science have been made, —
the reasonings and demonstrations by which its doc-
trines are supported, and the experiments by which
they are proved and illnstrated. In. this point of
view, the study of several branches of mathema-
tical science, however abstruse they may at first
sight appear, will aiford a high degree of gratifi-
cation to the mind. When it is announced as a
proposition in geometry, "that the square de-
scribed on the hypotenuse, or longest side of a
right angled triangle, is equal to the sum of the
squares described on the other sides,"* — it is

* The following figure will convey an idea to the nn-
ieamed reader of the meaning of this proposition.

E

A B C is a right angled triangle, having the right angle
«t C, and A B is the hypotenuse, or longest side. Hy geo-
metrical reasoning it can be demonstrated, that the square
D, described on the longest side A B, is exactly equal to
the sum of the squares E and F, described on the other two
sides. — One of the uses of this proposition will appear from
the following example. Suppose A C the hight of a wall
=24 feet, B C the width of a trench =18 feet; it is required
to find the length of a ladder B A which will reach from the
outside of the trench to the toj) of the wall. The square of
18 is 324, the square of 24 is 576, which added together
make 900, equal to the square D; the square root of which
it 30 = the length of the ladder. Ou this principle we can

pleasing to perceive, how every step of the de-
monstration proceeds with unerring certainty,
and leads the mind to perceive the truth of the
conclusion to wliich it leads, with as high a de-
gree of demonstrative evidence as that ?> odded to
b make 9, or that 5 multiplied by 4 make 20. In
like manner, when it is clearly demonstrated by
mathematical reasoning, that "the three angles
of every triangle, whatever be its size or the in-
clination of its sides, are exactly equal to two
right angles, or 180 degrees," and that "the sides
of a plane triangle are to one another as the sines
of the angles opposite to them," the utility and
importance of these truths may not at first view
be appreciated, however convincing the evidence
from which the conclusions are deduced. But
wlien the student comes to know that on these
demonstrated properties of a triangle depends the
mode of measuring the hight of mountains, and
the breadth of rivers, — of determining the circum-
ference of the earth, the distance of the sun and
moon, the magnitudes of the planets, and the di-
mensions of the solar system, — it cannot but af-
ford a positive gratification to perceive the impor-
tant bearings of such truths, and that the astro-
nomer, when he announces his sublime deduc-
tions respecting the sizes and distances of the
heavenly bodies, does not rest on vague concep-
tions, but on observations conducted with the
nicest accuracy, and on calculations founded on
principles susceptible of the strictest demonstra-
tion.

" To follow a demonstration of a grand mathe-
matical truth," says a powerful and enlightened
writer, — " to perceive how clearly and how inevi-
tably one step succeeds another, and how the
whole steps lead to the conclusion, — to observe
how certainly and unerringly the reasoning goes
on from things perfectly self-evident, and by the
smallest addition at each step, every one being as
easily taken after the one before as the first step
of ail was, and yet the result being something,
not only far from self-evident, but so general and
strange, that you can hardly believe it to be true,
and are only convinced of it by going over the
whole reasoning, — this operation of the under-
standing, to those who so exercise themselves, al-
ways atlbrds the highest delight."

It is likewise a source of enjoyment to con-
template the experiments by which the doctrines
of science are supported, and the reasonings and
deductions founded on experimental investiga-
tions. When a person is told that the atmosphere
presses on every part of the surface of the earth
with a force equal to two thousand one hundred
and sixty pounds on every square foot, it must
surely be gratifying to behold a column of water
supported in a glass tube, oj)en at the lower end, —
and a square bottle connected with an air pump,
broken to pieces by the direct pressure of the at-
mosphere,— and from a comparison of the weight
of mercury suspended in a tube with the diame-
ter of its bore, to be able to calculate the atmo-
spherical pressure on the body of a man, or even
on the whole earth. When he is told that one
ingredient of atmospheric air is the principle of
flame, is it not curious and highly interesting to
behold a piece of iron burning in this gas, throw-
ing out brilliant sparks of white flame, and illu-
minating a large hall with a dazzling luster? —
and when he is informed that fixed air is the
heaviest of the gases, and destructive to flame and
animal life, — is it not gratifying to perceive this

find the hight of the mountains io the moon, when the length
of their shadows is known.

46

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

invisible fluiM poured from one vessel to another,
and when poured on the tiaine of a caudle tiuit it
instantly extiniriiislies it? Many of the deduc-
tions of natund science are so wonderful, and so
Unlike everything we should have previously con-
ceived, that to the untutored mind they appear
almost incredible, and little short of unfounded
and extravagant assertions. When sucli a one is
told that "any quantity of liquid, however small,
will counterpoise any quantity, however great,"
— that the rubbing of a glass cjdinder against a
cusliiou will produce the effect of setting lire to
spirits of wine, or of bursting a bladder of air at
tlie distance of a hundred feet from the machine —
that the galvanic agency will in-oduce a violent
and uncommon effect upon the nervous and mus-
cular system — and that in certain vegetable in-
fusions, myriads of animals of various forms, may-
be seen a thousand times less than the smallest
visible point — such assertions are apt to stagger
his belief as improbable and extravagant. But
when he actually sees in the first case, a large
liogshcad that would hold above a hundred gal-
lons, filled with water, and a long tube whose
bore is not half an inch in diameter, firmly in-
serted into its top, and a small quantity of water
scarcely exceeding a quart, poured into tlie tube —
and then beholds the top rapidly swelling, and in
a few moments, the whole cask burst to pieces,
and the water scattered in every direction, — or in
the second case, wlien he sees alcohol suddenly
taking fire, and a bladder filled with oxygen and
hydrogen gas, exploding with a tremendous re-
port, merely by the turning of the electrical ma-
chine at the other end of a long hall, and the in-
terposition of a wire, — or, when in the third case,
lie sees a person drink a glass of porter which has
a wire around it connected with a galvanic bat-
tery, and at a certain stage of the operation, re-
ceive a tremendous concussion, which makes him
start and roar like a madman, or, in the last case,
when he looks through a powerl'ul microscope,
and perceives hundreds of mites like so many
young pigs, clambering among rocks of cheese,
and tliousands of fishes in a drop of water' — such
experimental illustrations of the truths of science,
cannot fail to prove highly satisfactory, and to
afford no inconsiderable degree of entertainment
and delight.

The occasional performance of scientific experi-
ments, as opportunity ofiers, and the construction
of philosophical instrunients, may also be convert-
ed into a source of enjoyment. In the one case,
the student of nature may derive gratification,
in being the means of communicating entertain-
ment and instruction to others; and in the other,
he may whet his ingenuity, and increase his men-
tal vigor, and be enabled at a small expense, to
gratify his curiosity in contemplating the various
processes, and the beauties and sublimities of na-
ture. Many of the instruments of science, when
elegantly constructed, are beyond the reach of the
general mass of mankind, on account of their ex-
pense; but a person of moderate reflection and in-
genuity, during his leisure hours, can easily con-
struct at an inconsiderable expense, many of the
most useful instruments which illustrate the facts
of science. For example, a powerful compound
microscope, capable of enabling us to perceive the
most interesting minute objects in the animal,
vegetable, and mineral kingdoms, may be con-
structed at an expense of little more than a crown,
provided the individual constructs the tubes and
other apparatus of pasteboard, wood, or other
cheap materials; and the occasional exercise of
the mental powers in such devices, so far from

being irksome or fatiguing, are generally accoin*
panied with satisfaction and pleasure.

It is true, indeed, that the study of some of the
subjects above mentioned, particularly the first
principles of the mathematics, may, in the outset,
be attended with some difficulties, and to some
minds may wear a dry and uninteresting aspect
But as the mind proceeds onward in its progress,
and acquires clearer conceptions of That at first
appeared difficult or obscure — every difficulty it is
enabled to surmount gives a new relish to the sub-
ject of investigation, and additional vigor to thie
intellect, to enable it to vanquish the difficulties
which still remain, — until at length it feels a pleas-
ure and an interest in the pursuit, which no diflicul-
ties, nor even the lapse of time can ever effectually
destroy. " Let any man," says Lord Brougliam,
" pass an evening in vacant idleness, or even in
reading some silly tale, and compare the state of
liis mind when he goes to sleep or gets up next
morning, with its state some other day when he
has passed a few hours in going tlirough the proofs,
by facts and reasonings, of some of the great doc-
trines in Natural Science, learning truths wholly
new to him, and satisfying himself by careful ex-
amination of the grounds on which known truths
rest, so as to be not only acquainted with the doc-
trines themselves, but able to show why he believes
them, and to prove before others that they are
true; — he will find as great a difference as can ex-
ist in the same being, — the difference between
looking back upon time unprofitably wasted, and
time spent in self-improvement; he will feel him-
self in the one case listless and dissatisfied, in the
other comfortable and happy; in the one case, if
he do not appear to himself humbled, at least he
will not have earned any claim to his own respect;
in the other case, lie will enjoy a proud conscious*
ness of having bj' his own exertions, become a wise,
and therefore a more exalted creature."

The subjects to which I have now adverted, may
be considered not merely in reference to the grati-
fication they afford to the understanding, but hke-
wise in reference to the beneficial influence they
would produce on the heart, and on social and do-
mestic enjoT/inent.

All the truths relative to the Creator's operations
in the universe, when properly contemplated, are
calculated to produce a powerful and interesting
impression upon the affections. Is a person grati-
fied at beholding symmetry and beauty as displayed
in the v/orks of art, — what a high degree of de-
lightful emotion must be felt in surveying the beau-
tiful arrangements of Infinite Wisdom, in the va-
riety of forms, the nice proportions, the exquisite
delicacy of texture, and the diversified hues which
adorn the vegetable kingdom, — in the colors of
the morning and evening clouds of a summer sky,
the plumage of birds, the admirable workmanship
on the bodies of insects, the fine polish of sea-
shells, the variegated waviiigs and colorings of
jaspers, topazes, and emeralds, and particularly
in those specimens of divine mechanism in insects,
plants, and flowers, wdiich the unassisted eye can-
not discern, and wdiich the microscope alone can
unfold to view! Has he a taste for the SMWi7n«.'
How nobly is he gratified by an enlightened view
of the nocturnal heavens, where suns unnum-
bered shine, and mighty worlds run their solemn
rounds! Such contemplations have a natural ten-
dency, in combination with Christian principles
and motives, to raise tJie affections to that Almighty
Being who is the uncreated source of all that is
sublime and beautiful in creation, — to enkindle the
fire of devotion, — to excite adoration of his infi-
nite excellences, and to produce profound humility

PLEASURES CONNECTED WITH SCIENCE.

47

In his presence. Such studies likewise tend to pre-
sen'e the miiul in calmiipss a-ivJ serenity midcT the
moral tii.speiisations of lliin wlio.^e wis lorn is dis-
played in all his arrangements, and wlioso " tender
mercies arc over all his works," — and to inspire it
with hope and confidence in relation to the future
scenes of eternity, from a consideration of his
power, benevolence, and intelligence, as displayed
throughout the universe, and of the ine.\h:instible
Bources of felicity he has it in his power to distrib-
ute anio.iig numerous orders of beings throughout
an imniorlal existence. Conteniplaiing the nnuier-
ous displays of Divine muniticence around us — the
diversified orders of deligiited existence that peo-
ple the air, the waters, and the earth, the nice
adaptation of their organs and faculties to their
different situations and modes of life, the ample
provision made for their wants and enjoyments,
and the boundless dimensions of the divine em-
pire, where similar instances of beneficence are dis-
played— the heart is disposed to rest with confi-
dence on Him who made it, convinced that his al-
mighty power quahfies him to make us happy by
a variety of means of which we have no adequate
conception, and that his faithfulness and benevo-
lence dispose him to withhold no real good " from
them that walk uprightly."

Such studies would likewise tend to Juc/hien the
ddights of social enjoyment. There is nothing more
prating to the man of iuteiligence than the foolish
and trifling conversation which prevails in the va-
rious intercourses of social life, even among the
middling and the higher circles of society, and in
convivial associations. The ribaldry and obscen-
ity, the folly and nonsense, and the laughter of
fools which too frequently distinguish such asso-
ciations, are a disgrace to our civilized condition,
.and to our moral and intellectual nature. With-
out supposing that it will ever be expedient to lay
aside cheerfulness and rational mirth, the lively
Bmile, or even the loud laugh, it is surely conceiv-
able, that a more rational and improving turn
might be given to general conversation than wliat
is frequently exemplified in our social intercourses.
Aiid what can we suppose better calculated to ac-
complish this end than the occasional introduction
of topics connected with science and general know-
ledge, when all, or the greater part, are qualified
to take a share in the general conversation? It
would tend to stimulate the mental faculties, to
suggest useful hints, to diffuse general information,
10 improve science and art, to excite the ignorant
to increase in knowledge, to present interesting
objects of contemplation, to enliven the spirits,
and thus to afford a source of rational enjoyment.
It would also have a tendency to prevent those
■hinjcfnl excesses, noisy tumults, and scenes of in-
brmpetance which so frequently terminate our fes-
tive ■'»n'£.rtainnient3. For want of qualifications
Jor su^'h conversation, cards, dice, childish ques-
tions a.nil amusements, gossiping chit-chat, and
tales of n-iandal are generally resorted to, in order
to consun,e the hours allotted to social enjoyment.
And hov) melancholy the reflection, that ration-
al \yi\ngs capable of investigating the laws and
phenomena of the universe, and of prosecuting
the most exalted range of thought, and who are
destined to exist in other worlds, throughout an
endless duration — should be impelled to resort to
such degrading expedients, to while away the so-
cial hours I

Domestic enjoyment might likewise be higldened
and improved by the studies to which we have ad-
verted. For want of qualifications for rational
conversation, a spirit of listlessness and indiffer-
ence frequently insinuates itself into the inter-

courses of families, and between married individu-
als, which sometimes degenerates into fretfulness
and impatience, and even into jars, contentions,
and violent altercations; in which case there caa
never exist any high degree of alfection or domes-
tic (-njoyment. It is surely not unreasonable to
su{)pose, that were the minds of persons in the
married state possessed of a certain portion of know-
ledge, and endowed with a relish for rational in-
vestigations— not only would such disagreeable
effects be prevented, but a variety of positive en-
joyments would be introduced. Substantial know-
ledge, which leads to the proper exercise of the
mental powers, has a tendency to meliorate the
temper, and to prevent those ebullitions of passion
which are the results of vulgarity and ignoiance.
By invigorating the mind, it prevents it from sink-
ing into peevishness and inanity. It affords sub-
jects for interesting conversation, and augments
affection by the rccijjrocal interchanges of senti-
ment and feeling, and the mutual communication
of instruction and entertainment. And in cases
wliere malignant passions are ready to burst forth,
rational arguments will have a more powerful in-
fluence in arresting their progress, in cultivated
minds, than in those individuals in whose consti-
tution animal feeling predominates, and reason
has lost its ascendency. As an enlightened mind
is generally the seat of noble and liberal senti-
ments— in those cases where the parties belong to
different religions sectaries, there is more proba-
bility of harmony and mutual forbearance being
displayed, when persons take an enlarged view of
the scenes of creation, and the revelations of the
Creator, than can be expected in the case of those
whose faculties are immersed in the mists of su-
perstition and ignorance.

How delightful an enjopnent is it, after the
bustle of business and the labors of the day are
over, — when a married couple can sit down at
each corner of the fire, and, with mutual relish
and interest read a volume of history, or of popu-
lar pliilosophy, and talk of the moral government
of God, the arrangements of his providence, and
the wondei-s of the universe! Such interesting
conversations and exercises beget a mutual esteem,
enliven the affections, and produce a friendship
lasting as our existence, and which no untoward
incidents can ever effectually impair. A Christ-
ian pastor, in giving an account of the last illness
of his beloved partner, in a late periodical work,
when alluding to a book she had read along with
him about two months before her decease, says,
" I shall never forget the pleasure with which she
studied the illustrations of the divine perfections
in that interesting book. Rising from the contem-
plation of the variety, beautj', immensity, and or-
der of the creation, she exulted in the assurance
of having the Creator for her father, anticipated
with great joy the vision of him in the nextworld,
and calculated with unhesitating confidence on
the sufficiency of his boundless nature to engage
her most intense interest, and to render her un-
speakably happy forever." It is well known that
the late lamented Princess Cfiarlotte, and her consort
Prince Leopold, lived together in the greatest har-
mony and affection; and from what her biogra-
phers have stated respecting her education and
pursuits, irt appears that the mutual friendship of
these illustrious individuals was hightened and
cemented by the rational conversation in vrhich they
indulged, and the elevated studies to which they
were devoted. Her course of education embraced
the English, classical, French, German, and Italian
languages; arithmetic, geography, astronomy, the
first sL\ books of Euclid, algebra, mechanics, and

48

ON THE CxENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

the princi;)lcs of optics and perspective, along with
history, the policy of frovcniments, and particular-
ly the principles of the Christian religion. She
was a skillful musician, had a fine [)erception
of the picturesque in nature, and was fond of
drawing. She took great pleasure in strolling on
the beach, in marine excursions, in walking in the
country, in rural scenery, in conversing freely
with the rustic inhabitants, and in investigating
every obj'^ct that seemed worthy of her attention.
She was an enthusiastic admirer of the grand and
beautiful in nature, and the ocean was to lier an
object of peculiar interest. After her uniun with
the prince, as thi?ir tastes were similar, they en-
gaged in the same studies. Gardening, drawing,
music, and rational conversation, diversified their
leisure hours. They took great pleasure in the
culture of flowers — in the classification of them —
and in tiio formation, with scientific skill, of a hor-
tits siccus. But the library, which was furnished
with the best books in our language, was their fa-
vorite place of resort; and their ciiief daily pleasure
mutual instruction. They were seldom apart either
in their occupations or in their amusements; nor
were they separated in their religious duties.
" They took sweet counsel together, and walked
to the house of God in company;" and it is also
stated, on good authoiity, that they had establish-
ed the worship of God in their family, which was
regularly attended by every branch of their house-
hold. No wonder, then, that they exhibited an
auspicious and a delightful example of private and
domestic virtue, of conjuc;al attachment, and of un-
obtrusive charity and benevolence. In the higher
circles of society, as well as in the lower, it would
bs of immense importance to the interests of do-
mestic happiness, that the taste of the Princess
Charlotte was more closely imitated, and that the
fashionable frivolity and dissipation which so gen-
erally prevail were exchanged for the pursuits of
knowledge, and the delights of rational and im-
proving conversation. Then those family feuds,
contentions, and separations, and thoss prosecu-
tions for matrimonial infidelity which are now so
common, would be less frequently obtruded on
public view, and examples of virtue, afRction, and
rational conduct, would be set before the subonii-
nate ranks of the community, which might be at-
tended with the most beneficial and permanent
results, not only to the present, but to future gen-
erations.

In short, the possession of a large store of intel-
lectual wealth would fortify the soul in the pros-
pect of every evil to which humanity is subjected,
and would afford consolation and solace when for-
tune is diminished, and the greater portion of exter-
nal comforts is withdrawn. Under the frowns of ad-
versity, those worldly losses and calamities which
drive unthinking men to desperation and despair,
would be borne with a becoming magnaniniity;
the mind having within itself the chief resources
of it? happiness, and becoming almost independent
of the world around it. For to the individual
v/hose happiness chiefly depends on intellectual
pleasures, retirement from general society, and the
bustle of the world, is often the state of his high-
est enjoyment.

Thus I have endeavored briefly to illustrate the
enjoyments which a general diffusion of know-
ledge would produce — from a consideration of the
limited conceptions of the untutored mind con-
trasted with the ample and diversified range of
view presented to the enlightened understanding —
from the delightful tendency of scientific pursuits,
in enabling us to trace, from a single principle, an
Immense variety of effects, and surprising and un-

expected resemblances, where we least expected to
find them, — from the grand and sublime objects it
presents before us — from the varietij of novel and
interesting scenes which the diflerent departments
of physical science unfold — from the exercise
of tracing the steps by which scientific discoveries
have been made — and from the influence of such
stuilies on the aftections and on social and domes-
tic enjoyment.

For want of the knowledge to which I have al-
luded, il happens that few persons who have been
engaged in commercial or agricultural pursuits
feel much enjoyment, when, in the decline of life,
they retire from the active labors in which they
have been previously engaged. Retirement and
respite from the cares of business afford them lit-
tle gratification, and they feel a vacuity within
which nothing around them or within the range
of their conceptions can fill up. Being destitute
of a taste for intellectual pursuits, and devoid of
that subsiratiim of thought which is the ground-
work of mental activity and of rational contem-
plation, they enjoy nothing of that mental liberty
and expansion of soul which the retreats of soli-
tude afford to the contemplative mind; and when
not engaged in festive associations, are apt to sink
into a species of listlessnessand ennui. They stalk
about from one place to another without any defi-
nite object in view — look at everything around
with a kind of unconscious gaze — are glad to in-
dulge in trifling talk and gossip with every one
they meet — and, feeling how little enjoyment they
derive from their own reflections, not unfrequent-
ly slide into habits of sensuality and intemperance.
From what we have stated on this topic, it evi-
dently appears that the pursuits of science are
fitted to yield a positive gratification to every ra-
tional mind. It presents to view, processes, com-
binations, metamorphoses, motions, and objects of
various descriptions calculated to arrest the atten-
tion and to astonish the mind, far more than all
the romances and tales of wonder that were ever
invented by the human imagination. When the
pleasures arising from such studies are rendered
accessible to all, human happiness will be nearly
on a level, and the different ranks of mankind will
enjoy it in nearly an equal degree. As true enjoy-
ment depends chiefly on the state of the mind, and
the train of thought, that passes through it, it fol-
lows, that v/hen a man prosecutes a rational train
of thought and finds a pleasure in the contem-
plation of intellectual objects, his happiness is less
dependent on mere sensitive enjoyments, and a
smaller portion of external comforts w'ill be pro-
ductive of enjoyment than in the case of those
whose chief pleasure consists in sensual gratifica-
tions. When intellectual pursuits, therefore, shall
occupy the chief attention of mankind, we may
indulge the hope, that those restless and insatiable
desires which avarice and ambition never cease to
create, will seldom torm.ent the soul, and that a
noble generosity of mind in relation to riches will
distinguish persons of every rank, and be the
means of producing enjoyment wherever its influ-
ence extends.

SECTION V.

On the practical influence of scientific know-
ledge, AND ITS TENDENCV TO PROMOTE THE EX-
TERNAL COMFORTS OF GENERAL SOCIETY.

In the preceding section I have considered the
beneficial tendency of knowledge and the pleasures
it affords, cliiefiy in reference to the understanding

UTILITY OF CHEMICAL KNOWLEDGE.

49

AU'l flip affecUons. In the present section I shall
cotisiiler it more paiticiilarly, in regard to its prac-
tical effects on the active cm])!oymcnts and the ex-
ternal comforts of tlie middling and lower orders
of the comnuinitj'. — Every art being founded on
acientific priiicii)les, and directed in its operations
by the experimental deductions of philosophy, it
follows, that a knowledge of the principli's of sci-
ence must bf> conducive to askilljul practice of the
arts, and must have a tendency to direct the ge-
nius of the artist to carry them to their highest pitch
of improvement. In illustnititig this topic, I sliall
endeavor to show that an acquaintance with sci-
ence would render mechanics, manufacturers, and
laborers more expert and skillful in their difiercnt
departments — would pave tlie way for future dis-
coveries and improvements — and that the know-
ledge and spirit which produced such improvements
would promote the external comforts of mankind.

I. A knowledge of the principles of science
would render manufacturers, mechanics, and com-
mon laborers of all descriptions more skillful in
their respective professioiis and employments.

In the arts of dyf.ing and calico-printing, every
process is conducted on the ])rinci[)les of chemis-
try. Not a color can be imparted but in conse-
quence of the affinity which subsists between the
cloth and the dye, — or the dye and the mordant
employed as a bond of union between them; and
the colors will be liable to vary, unless the artist
take into account the changes wiiich take place in
them by the absorption of oxygen; — a knowledge
of which and of the different degrees of oxidize-
Eient which the several dyes undergo, requires a
considerable portion of chemical skill; and such
knowledge is absolutely necessary to enable either
the dyer or the calico printer to produce in all
cases permanent colors of the shade he intends.
To chemistry, too, they must be indebted for the
knowledge they may acquire of the nature of the
articles they use in tlieir several processes — for the
artificial production of their most valuable m.or-
danls — <M\A for some of their most beautiful and
briUiant colors. As an evidence of this, it is suffi-
cient to state, that, to produce such colors as an
olive ground and j'ellow figures, a scarlet pattern
on a black ground, or a brown ground with orange
figures, formerly required a period of many weeks;
but 1 y means of chemical preparations the whole
of this work may now be done in a few days, and
patterns mere delicate than ever produced, with a
degree of certainty of which former manufactur-
ers could have no idea; and all this is effected by
dyeing the cloth a self-color in the first instance,
and after\vard merely printing the pattern with a
chemical preparation which discharges a part of
the original dye, and leaves a new color in its stead.

The art of bleaching has likewise received so
many important improvements from chemical sci-
ence, that no one is now capable of conducting
its processes to advantage who is ignorant of the
Bcientific principles on which the present practice
of thatartis founded. Until about the close of the
eighteenth centuiy, the old tedious process of
bleaching continued in practice. But, about that
period the introduction of the oxijmuriatic acid,
combined with alkalis, lime and other ingredients.
In bleaching cottons and linens, has given an en-
tirely new turn to ever}- part of the process, so that
the process which formerly required several months
for its completion can now be accomplished in a
few days, and with a degree of perfection which
eould not previously be attained. Even in a few
hours that which formerly required nearly a whole
summer, can now be effected, ai>«J- that, too, mere-
ly by the action of an almost invisible fluid. As

Vol. I.— 4

the whole process of bleaching, as now practiced,
consists almost entirely of chemical agents and
operations, every person employed in this art,
ought to possess a certain portion of chemical know-
ledge, otherwise many of its processes would run
the risk of being deranged, and the texture of the
materials undergoing the process of being either
materially injured or completely destroyed.

The operation of brewing fermented liquors ia
likewise a chemical process. The student of
chemistry will learn how the barley in the first
instance is converted into a saccharine substanca
by malting; how the fermentative process convert
the saccharine to a spirituous substance, and how
the latter, by continuing the process, becomea
changed into vinegar. He will also learn the
means of promoting and encouraging this pro-
cess, and how to retard and check it, when it is
likely to be carried too far, so as to be sure of uni-
formly obtaining satisfactory results. Ill this and
in every other process, it must therefore be of im-
portance to acijuire some knowledge of the prin-
ciples of natural substances, and of the nature of
those changes which take place in the materials on
which we operate. In the manufacture of soap, it
is reckoned by those intimately acquainted with
the process, that many thousands per annum, now
lost to the community, might be saved, were the
trade carried on upon scientific principles. When
a soap boiler is an accomplished chemist, he knows
how to analyze barilla, kelp, potass, and other ma-
terials, so as to ascertain the proportion of alkali
in each; and when these articles are at an exorbi-
tant price, he will have recourse to various resid-
uums which he will decompose by chemical means,
and use as substitutes. He v.ill know how to oxy-
dize the conmiou oils and oil-dregs, so as to give
them consistence, and render them good substitutes
for tallow — and how to apportion his lime so as to
make his alkali perfectly caustic, without using
an unnecessary quantitj- of that article. The man-
ufuctare of candles might also derive advantage
from chemical science. It is found that foreign tal-
lows frequently contain a large portion of acid,
rendering them inferior to the English, which, by
chemical means may be purified at a very srnall
expense, and by the proper application of chemical
agents other browiii tallows may be rendered beauti-
fully white, and fit for the best purposes.*

The tanning of hides is now ascertained to con-
sist in impregnating the animal matter with that
peculiar principle taken from the vegetable king-
dom, called tan, the effect of which is explained en-
tirely on chemical principles. It is now known
that many substances beside oak-bark, contain
tan, and to chemistry we are indebted for the
means of discovering with accuracy the quantity
of tan which astringent vegetables contain. It is
supposed not to be improbable, when the manu-
facturers shall have paid proper attention to chem-
ical science, that the article in question may bo
prepared in chemical laboratories, so as entirely to
supersede the use of oak bark, since the principle
of tanning has alreadj' been formed artificially by
a modern chemist. t — It is also well known, that
to chemical research, the manufacturers of earth-
en-ware and porcelain are indebted for the improved
state in which thej'are now found. For, tlie suc-
cessful management of all their branches, from
the mixture of the materials which form the body
of the ware, to the production of those brilliant
colors with which such articles are adorned — is

• For most of the above hints the author is indebted ta
Mr. Parkes.
t SegeriD. Sea Nicholson's Phil. Jonrnal, 4to vol. I. p. 271,

50

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

dependpnt on the principles of chemical science.
Tlie celebrated Wedgewood, to whom this branch
of man u fad lire is so highly indebted, devoted his
whole attention to the improvement of his art by
the ai)piicalion of his chemical knowledge, of
which few men possessed a larger share; and he
has been heard to declare, " that nearly all the di-
ve rsitie.l colors applied to his pottery, were pro-
duced only by the oxides of iron."

There are few pewons to whom a knowledge
of chemistry is of more importance than to the
Agricjilfurist. It will teach him to analyze llie
soils on the diilerent parts of his farm, and to sub-
ject to experiment the peat, the marl, the lisne
and otlier manures, in order to ascertain the ad-
vantages to be derived from them, and the propri-
ety of applying them in particular instances. It
will t-Mch him when to use lime hot from the kiln,
and vvhe;i slacked, how to promote the putrefac-
tive process in his composts, and at what period
to check it, so as to prevent the fertilizing parMcles
becoming unprolific and of little value. It will
also teucli him the difference in the properties of
marl, lime, dung, mud, ashes, alkaline salt, soap-
waste, sea water and other manures, and, conse-
quently, which to prefer in all varieties of soil.
It is said that the celebrated Lavoisier cultivated
240 acres of land in La Vendee, on chemical prin-
ciples, in order to set a good example to the farm-
ers; and his mode of culture was attended with so
much success, that he obtained a third more of
crop than was procured by the usual method, and
La nine years his annual produce was doubled.

I might also have illustrated the practical ad-
vantages of chemical science in relation to the art
of extracting metals from thdr ores, — the conver-
sion of iron into steel, and the metallic ore into
malleable iron — the manufacture of glass, alum,
copperas, hlue vitriol, soda, potash, Morocco-leather,
paper, starch, varnish, an] Prussian-hlue — the re-
fining of sugar, saltpetre, gold and silver — the ar-
tiiicial formation of ice — the method of preserving
fish, meat, and other articles of food, and various
other processes connected with the practical de-
partments of life, all of wliicli are strictly chem-
ical operations, and can be improved and brought
to perfection chiefly by the knowledge and appli-
cation of the doctrines and facts of chemical science.

With regard to the professions oi the physician,
surgeon, and apothecarij, it is now universally ad-
mitted, that an extensive acquaintance with the
principles and facts of chemistry, is essentially
requisite to the successful practice of these arts.
The human body may be considered as a species
of laboratory, in which the various processes of ab-
sorption, secretion, fermentation, composition and
decomposition, are incessantly going forward.
Every article of food and drink we throw into the
stomach, every portion of atmospheric air we
receive into the lungs, every impression we derive
from the surrounding elements, every motion
of the heart and lungs, and every pulse that vi-
brates within us, may be considered as effecting a
chemical change in the vital fluids, and in every
part of the animal system; the nature of which it
is of the utmostimportance to the medical practi-
tioner thoroughly to investigate and understand.
For, how can he be supposed to be successful in his
attempts to counteract the disorders to which the hu-
man frame is incident, and to produce a chemical
effect ou the constitution of his patient, if he is
ignorant either of the processes which are going
en in the system, of the chemical properties of
the substances which he throws into it, or of the ,
effects which they will certainly produce? If he |
Lb ignorant of the chemical affinities that subsist 1

between the various articles of the Materia Med-
ica, he may often administer preparations which are
not only inelhcacious, but even poisonous and de
structive to his patient. When two chemical sub-
stances, each of which might be administered sepa-
rately with safety, are combined, they sometimes
produce a substance which is highly deleterious to
the animal system. For example, aithougii mcrcu'
ry and oxygenized muriatic acid have both been ad-
ministered, and either of them may be taken sepa-
rately without injury to the animal economy,^ — yet
if a medical practitioner, ignorant of the cliemical
afKnities of such substances, and of the quality of
the compound, should give both of them in con-
junction, the most dreadful consequences might
ensue: since the product of this imx.iaTe,ox7jjenized
muriate of mercury, is known to be a most corro-
sive poison; and there can be little doubtthat hun-
dreds of lives have been destroyed, by ignorant
pretenders to medical science, in consequence of
the injudicious administration of such deleterious
prei)arations.

But chemistry is not the only science which is
of utility in the arts which minister to tlie com-
fort and pecuniary interests of society. Geom-
etry, tvigonometry, conic sections, and other
branches of mathematical knowledge; hydrosta-
tics, hydraulics, mechanics, optics, botany, mine-
ralogy and the other departments of the physical
sciences, may be rendered of essential service to
artisans and mechanics of various descriptions.
All the sciences are, in some degree, connected,
and reflect a mutual light upon one another; and
consequently the man who has the most exten-
sive acquaintance with science, is best qualified
for carrying to perfection any one department of
the useful arts.

Practical Geometry is highly useful to almost
every mechanic and artisan, particularly to mill-
wrights, bricklayers, carpenters and masons. It
teaches them to form angles of any assigned
number of degrees, to draw parallel and perpen-
dicular lines, to proportion circumferences to di-
ameters, to divide circular rims into any number
of parts, to estimate the square or cubical con-
tents of any piece of workmanship, and to calcu-
late the price they ought to receive for any work
they perform, accorciing to its solid or superficial
dimensions. In forming estimates of the expense
of any proposed undertaking, the carpenter,
bricklayer, and arcliitect must find such know-
ledge essentially requisite; and even the common
laborer who undertakes the formation of roads,
the digging of pits, and the clearing away of rub-
bish, will find the principles of arithmetic and
geometry of important service in estimating the
rate at which he can perform such operations.
The following geometrical theorems, beside many
others, are capable of a variety of practical ap-
plications, in many departments of the arts. —
" If, from the two ends of any diameter of a
circle, two lines be drawn to meet in any point
of the circle whatever, such lines are perpendicu-
lar to each other," or, in other words, they form
a riglit angle at the point of contact.* Again,
"The areas of all circles are in exact proportioq
to the squares of their radii, or half diameters."
If, for example, we draw a circle with a pair of
compasses whose points are stretched 4 inches
asunder, and another with an extent of 8 inches,
the large circle is exactly four times the size oi

* For example, if from the two ends of the diameter A
and B, the lines A C, B C be drawn to the point C, these
lines will be perpendicular to each other, and consequently
the angle at C will be a right angle. In like manner tb«

PRACTICAL UTILITY OF MECHANICAL PRINCIPLES

51

area of the small one. For the square of 4 is =
IG, and tho square of B is = G4, which is four
times 16. And us the circumferences of the cir-
cles are in proportion to the radii, it will follow,
that the length of a string which would go round
the curve of the larger circle is exactly double the
length of one which would go round the lesser.
Mechanics, in recognizing such theorems, will
meet with many opportunities of reducing them
to practice. — Aguiji, there is a figure whicli Geo-
metricians term a parabola, which is formed every
time we pour water forcibly from the mouth of a
tea-kettle, or throw a stone forward from the
hand. One property of the parabola is, that if a
spout of water be uirected at half a perpendicu-
lar from the ground, or at an angle of elevation of
45 degrees, it will come to the ground at a greater
distance than if any other direction had been
given it, a slight allowance being made for tho
resistance of the air. Hence the man who guides
the pipe of a fire-engine may be directed how to
throw the water to tlie greatest distance, and he
who aims at a mark, to give the projectile its pro-
per direction. — 'i'o surveyors, navigators, land-
measurers, gangers and engineers,a knowledge of
the mathematical sciences is so indispensably re-
quisite, that without it, such arts cannot be skill-
fully exercised.

The physical sciences are also of the greatest
atility in almost every department of art. To
masons, architects, ship-builders, carpenters and
every other class employed in combining mate-
rials, raising weights, quarrying stones, building
piers and bridges, splitting rocks, or pumping
water from the bowels of the earth, — a know-
ledge of the principles of mechanics and dynamics
is of the first importance. By means of these
eoiences the nature of the lever and other me-
chanical powers may be learned, and their forces
estimated — the force produced by any particular
combination of these pov/ers calculated — and the
best mode of applying such forces to accomplish
Certain effects, ascertained. By a combination of
the mechanical powers the smallest force may be
multiplied to an almost indefinite extent, and
with such assistance man has been enabled to
rear works and to perform operations which ex-
cite astonishment, and wliich his own physical
strength, assisted by all that the lower animals
iould furnish, would have been altoirether in-
Hdequato to accomplish. An accjuaintince witii

lines A Vi , ar.-d B D, A B and B E, will stand at right ansjles
to eacii other; and the same will be tlie case to whatever
point of the circle such lines are drawn. The practical ap-
plica<ion of this principle, in various operations, will, at
onceW obvious to the intelli;;ent mechanic, especially when
he intends the two ends or sides of any piece of macbinery
to stand perpendicular to each other.

the experiments which have been made to deter-
mine the strength of materials, and the results
wliicli have been deduced from them, is of im-
mense importance to every class of mechanics
employed in engineering and architectural opera-
tions. From sucli experiments (wliich have only
been lately attended to on scientific principles),
many useful deductions might be made respecting
the best form of mortices, joints, beams, tenons,
scarphs, &.C.; the art of mast making, and the
manner of disposing and combiuing the strength
of different substances in naval architecture, and
in the rearing of our buildings. P'or example,—
from the experiments now alluded to, it has been
deduced, that the strength of any piece of mate-
rial drpends chiejly on its depth, or on that dimen-
sion which is in the direction of its otrain. A
bar of timber of one inch in breadth, and two
inches in depth, is four times as strong as a bar of
only one inch deep; and it is twice as strong as a
bar two inches broad and one deep, that is, a joint
or lever is always strongest when laid on its edge.
Hence it follows, that the strongest joist that can
bs cut out of a round tree is not the one which
has the greatest quantity of timber in it, but such
that the product of its breadth by the square of
its depth shall be the greatest possible. — Again,
from the same experiments it is found, that a hol-
loio tube is stronger than a. solid rod containing the
same quantity of inatler. This property of hollow
tubes is also accompanied with greater stiffness;
and the superiority in strength and stiffness is so
much the greater as the surrounding shell is thin-
ner in proportion to its diameter. Hence we find
that tlie bones of men and other animals are
formed hollow, which renders them incomparably
stronger and stifFer, gives more room for the in-
sertion of muscles, and makes them lighter and
more agile, than if they were constructed of solid
matter. In like manner the bones of birds, which
are thinner than those of other animals, and tho
quills in their wings, acquire by their thinness the
strength wliich is necessary, while tliey are so
light as to give sufiicient buoyancy to the animal
in its flight through the serial regions. Our en-
gineers and carpenters have, of late, begun to
imitate nature in this respect, and now make their
axles and other parts of machinery hollow, which
both saves a portion of materials and renders
th'-m stronger than if they were solid.*

The departments oi hydrostatics and hydraulics,
which treat of the pressure and motion of fluids,
and the method of estimating their velocity and
force, require to be thoroughly understood by all
those who are employed in the construction of
common and forcing-pumps, water-mills, foun-
tains, fire-engines, hyurostatical presses; and in
the formation of canals, wet-docks, and directing
llie course of rivers; otherwise they will con-
stantly be liable to commit egregious blunders,
and can never rise to eminence in their respective
professions. Such principles as the following: —
that fluids press equally in all directions, — that
they press as much xtpicard as dowmoard, — that
water, in several tubes that communicate with
each other, will stand at the same higiit, in all of
them, whether they be small or great, perpendic-
ular or oblique, — that the pressure of fluids is di-
rectly as their perpendicular higJd, without any
regard to their quantity, — and that the quantities
of water discharged at the same time, by different
apertures, under the same hight of surface in the

* The mechanical reader who wishes particular informa-
tion on this subject is referred to the article Strength of ma
lerials in Ency. Brit. 3d edit, which was written by the lai«
Professor Robison.

52

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

resei-voir, are to each otlicr nearly as tlie areas
of their apertures, — will be foiiiul capable of ex-
tensive application to pliunbors, encriiiecrs,pinnp-
makers, and all who are employed in conducting
water over hills or valleys, or in using it as a me-
chanical power, by a recognition of which they
will be enabled to foresee, with certainty, the re-
sults to be expected from tiieir plans and opera-
tions; for want of which knowledge many plausi-
ble schemes have been frustrated, and sums of
money expended to no purpose.

The following figures and explanations will
tend to illustrate some of tiie principles now
stated: — 1. Fluids press in proportion to th"ir/)cr-
pendicular hights, and the base of the vessel con-
taining them, without regard to the quantity.
Thus, if the vessel ABC, fig. 2. has its base BC
equal to the base FG of the cylindrical vessel
DEFG, fig. 1, but is much smaller at the top A
than at the bottom, and of the same hight; the

Fig. L

pressure upon the bottom BC is as qrcat as the
piessure upon the bottom of the ves.^el DEFG,
when they are filled with water, or any other
liquid, notwithstanding that there will be a much
greater quantity of water in the cylindrical than
in the conical vessel; or, in other words, the bot-
tom BC will sustain a pressure equal to what it
would be if the vessel vrere as wide at the top as
at the bottom. In li,ie manner, the bottom of the
vessel HIKL, fig. 3, sustains a pressure only
equal to the column whose base is KL, and hight
KM, and not as the whole quantity of fluid
contained in the vessel; all the rest of the fluid
being supported by the sides. The demonf-tra-
■tion of these positions would occupy too much

room, and to many readers would appear too ab
stract and uninturesting; but they will be founfl
satisfactorily demoustraied in most books which
treat of the doctrines of hydrostatics.

2. I'he positions now stated form th« founda-
tion of the hydrostatical paradox, namely, " that
a quantity of fluid, however small, may be mado
to counterpoise a quantity, however great."
Thus, if to a wide vessel AB, we attach a tubo
CD, communicating with the vessel, and poui

Fig. 4.

water into it, the water will rim into the larger
vessel AB, and will stand at the same hight C
and G in both. If we affix an inclined tube EF
likewise communicating with the large vessel,
the water will also stand at E, at the same hight
as in the other two; the perpendicular altitude
being the same in all the three tube?, however
small the one may be in proportion to the other.
This experiment clearly proves that the small
column of water balances and supports the large
column, which it could not do if the lateral pres-
sures at the bottom were not equal to tjie other.
Whatever be the inclination of the tube EF, still
the perpendicular altitude will be the same as that
of the other tubes, although the colunin of water
must be much longer than those in the upright
tubes. Hence it is evident, that a small quantity
of a fluid may, under certain circumstances, coun-
terbalance any quantity of the same fluid. Hence
also the truth of the principle in hydrostatics,
that " (n tubes which hane a commiimcation,ichfther
they be equal or unequal, short or oblique, the Jluid
always rises to the same hiqht." From these facts
it follows, that water cannot be conveyed by
means of a pipe tliat is laid in a reservoir to any
place that is higher than the reservoir.

These princij)les point out the mode of con-
veying water across valleys without those expen-
sive aqueducts which were erected by the an-
cients for this purpose. A pipe, conforming to
the shape of the valley, will answer every pur-
pose of an aqueduct. Suppose ne spring at A,
fig. 5, and water is wanted on ne other side of
the valley to supply the house H, a pipe of lead or
iron laid from the spring-head across the valley
will convey the v/ater up to the level of the
spring-head; and if the house stand a little lower
than the spring-hea(i, a constant stream will pour
into the cisterns and ponds where it is required,
as if the house had stood on the other side of the
valley; and, consequently, will save the expense
of the arches BB, by which the ancient Romans
conducted water from one hill to another. But,
if the valley be very deep, the pipes must be
made very strong near its bottom, otherwise they

UTILITY OF HYDROSTATICS.

53

will be apt to burst; as the pressure of water I and is always in proportion to its perpendicular
Increases in the rapid ratio of 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, &c. I liight.

Fig. 5.

H

3. Fluids press in all directions, laterally and
npward, as well as downward. That fluids press
lateraUy may be seen by boring a hole in the side
of a cask containing any liquid, when the liquid
will run out in consequence of the lateral pres-
sure. The upward pressure is not so obvious,
but is clearly proved by the following experiment,
with an instrument generally termed the hydro-
etalic bellows: — This machine consists of two

Fig. 6.

thick oval boards, about 18 inches long and
16 inches broad, united to each other by leather,
so as to open and shut like a pair of common bel-
lows, but without valves. Into this instrument a
pipe B, several feet high, is fixed at D. If we
pour water into the pipe at its top C, it will run
into the bellows and separate the boards a little.
If we then lay three weiglits, each weighing 100
pounds, upon the upper board, and pour more

water into the pipe, it will run into the bellows,
and raise up the board with all the weights upon
it And though the water in the tube should
weigh in all only a quarter of a pound, j-et the
pressure of this small force upon the water below
in the bellows shall support the weights, which
are 300 pounds; nor will they have weight enough
to make them descend, and conquer the weight
of water, by forcing it out of the mouth of the
pipe. The reason of this will appear from what
has been already stated respecting the pressure of
fluids of equal bights, without any regard to the
quantities. For, if a hole be made in the upper
board, and a tube be put into it, the water will

rise in the tube to the same hight that it does in
the pipe; and it would rise as high (by supplying
the pipe) in as many tubes as the board would
contain holes. Hence, if a man stand upon the
upper board, and blow into the bellows through
the pipe, he can raise himself upward upon tlie
board; and the smaller the bore of the pipe is, the
easier will he be able to raise himself. And if he
put his finger on the top of the pipe, he niaj' sup-
port himself as long as he pleases.

The uses to which this power may be applied

are of great variety and extent; and the branches

of art dependent upon it appear to be yet in their

, infancy. By the application of this power tlia

54

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

late Mr. Bram ih formed what is called the Hy-
drostatic Press, by which aprodiiiious force is ob-
tained, ami by the help of wiiich, hay, straw,
wool, and other light substances, may be forced
into a very small bulk, so as to be taken in large
quantities on board a ship. With a machine, on
this prinei[)le, of the size of a tea-pot, standing
before lii,ii on a table, a man is enabled to cut
tl)rougli a thick bar of iron as easily as he could
clip a piece of pasteboard with a, pair of shears.
By this machine a pressure of 500 or 600 tons
may b.' brought to bear upon any substances which
it is wished to press, to tear up, to cut in pieces,
or to pull asunder.

Upon the same principle, the tun or hogshead
HI, fig. 7, when filled with water, may be burst,
by pressing it with some pounds additional weiglit
of the fluid through the small tube KL, which
may be supposed to be from 2;") to 30 feet in hight.
From what has been already stated, it nec^ssaiily
follows, that the small quantity of water which
the tube KL, contains, presses upon the bottom
of the tun with as much force as if a column of
water had been added as wide as the tun itself,
and as long as the tube, which would evidently
be an enormous weight. A f.'W years ago, a
friend of mine, when in Ireland, performed this
experiment to convince an English gentleman,
who called in question the principle, and who laid
a bet of fifty pounds that it would not succeed.
A hogshead, above .3 feet high, and above 2 feet
wide, was filled with water; a leaden tube, with
a narrow bore, between 20 and 30 feet long, was
firmly inserted in the top of the hogshead; a
person, from the upper window of a house, poured
in a decanter of water into the tube, and, before
the decanter was quite emptied, the hogshead be-
gan to swell, and in two or three seconds, burst
into pieces, while the water was scattered about
with immense force.

Hence, we may easily perceive what mischief
may somcthnes be done by a very small quantity
of water, when it happens to act according to its
perpendicular hight. Suppose, that in any build-
ing, near the foundation, a small quantity of v/a-
ter, only of the extent of a square yard, has set-
tled, and suppose it to have completely filled up
the whole vacant space, if a tube of 20 feet long
were thrust down into the water, and filled with
water from above, a force of more than 5 tons
would be a])plied to that part of the building,
which would blow it up witli the same force as
gunpowder.* The same cfFect may sometimes be
produced by rain falling into long narrow chinks,
that may have inadvertently been left in building
the walls of a house; which shows the impor-
tance of filling up every crevice and opening of
a building, and rendering the walls as close and
compact as possible. Hence, likewise, similar
processes in nature, connecled with pools of
water in the bowels of the earth, may occasion-
ally produce the most dreailful devastations. For,
should it happen, that, in the interior of a moun-
tain, two or three hundred feet below the surf.ice,
a pool of water thirty or forty square feet in ex-
tent, and only an inch or two in depth, was col-
lected, and a small crevice or opening of half an
inch in breadth were continued from the surface to
the water in the pool; and were this crevice to be
filled with rain or melted snow, the parts around
the layer of water would sustain a pressure of
more than six hundred tons, wiiich might shake
the mountain to its center, and even rend it with
the greatest violence. In this way, there is every

• See fig. 8, p. 55.

reason to believe, partial earthquakes have been
produced, and large fragments of mountaias de-
tached from their bases.

The principles now illustrated are capable of th»
most extensive application, particularly in all en-
gineering and hydraulic operations. It is on the
principle of the lateral and upward pressure of
fiuids that the water, elevated by the New River
water-works, in the vicinity of London, after
having descended from a basin in a vertical pipe,
and then, after having flowed horizontally in a
succession of })ipes under the pavement, is raised
up again through another pipe, as high as the
fountain in the Tenrple Garden. It is upon the
same principle that a vessel may be filled either
at the mouth or at the bottom indilferently, pro-
vided that it is done through a pipe, the top of
which is as high as the top of the vessel to bo
filled. Hence, likewise, it follows, that when
piers, aqueducts, or other hydraulic works for
the retention of water, are to be constructed, it
becomes necessary to ])roportion their strength to
the lateral pressure wldcli they are likely to sus-
tain, which becomes greater in proportion to the
higlit of the water to be sustained. Walls, like-
wise, designed to support terraces, ought to be
sufficiently strong to resist the lateral pressure of
the earth and rubbish which they are to sustain,
since this pressure will be greater as the particles
of earth, of which the terraces are composed, are
less bound together, and in proportion as the ter-
races are more elevated. The increase of pres-
sure in proportion to the depth of any fluid like-
wise shows the necessity of forming the sides of
pipes or masonry in which fluids are to be re-
tained, stronger toward the bottom, where the pres-
sure is greatest. If they are no thicker than what
is siiflicient for resisting the pressure near the top,
they will soon give way by the superior pressure
near t!ie bottom; and if they are tliick enough in
every part to resist the great pressure below, they
will be stronger than necessary in the parts above,
and, consequently, a superfluous expense, that
might have been saved, will be incurred in the
additional materials and labor employed in their
construction. The same principle is applicable
to the construction of flood-gates, dams, and
banks of eveiy description, for resisting the force
of water. When the strength and thickness re-
quisite for resisting the pressure at the greatest
depth is once ascertained, the walls or banks may
be made to taper upward, according to a certain
ratio founded on the strength of the materials,
and the gradual decrease of pressure from the
bottom upward; or, if one side be made perpen-
dicular, the other may proceed in a slanting direc-
tion toward the top.

From the principles and expei'iments now state-d,
we may also learn the reason why the banks of
ponds, rivers, and canals blow up, as it is termed.
If water can /insinuate itself under a bank or
dam, even although a layer of water were ao
thicker than a half-crown piece, the pressure of
the water in the canal or pond will force it up.
In fig. 8, let A represent a section of a river or
canal, and BE a drain running under one of ita
banks; it is evident, that, if the bank C is not
heavier than the column of water BB,\hat part
of the bank must inevitablj' give way. This
eflect may be pi-eyentcd in artificial canals by
making fhe sides very tight with clay heavily
rammed down, or by cutting a trench EF, about
a foot and a-half wide, along the banlrcf the river
or canal, and a little deeper than the bottom of
the canal, which being filled up with earth or clay
well moistened with water, forms, when dry, j

UTILITY OF HYDROSTATICS

55

kind of wall through which the \VTJtcr cannot
penetrate. By iuuttcntion to such circumstances
many disasters huve happened, and much expense
needlessly incurred; and, therefore, the scientific
principles to which I have now adverted ought
to be known, even by laborers of the lowest rank
employed in operations carried on for the im-
provement of the country.

To the want of a recognition of these principles
may be attributed the failure of the following
scheme, and the disaster with which it was at-
tended:— After the diving-bell was invented, it
was considered desirable to devise some means of
remaining for any length of time under water,
and rising at pleasure without assistance. "Some
years ago, an ingenious individual proposed a pro-
ject, by which this end was to be accomplished.
It consisted in sinking the hull of a ship made
quite water-tight, with the decks and sides strongly
supported by shores, and the only entry secured
by a stout trap-door, in such a manner, that, by
disengaging from within the weights employed to
sink it, it might rise of itself to the surface. To
render the trial more satisfactory and the result
more striking the projector himself made the
first essay. It was agreed that he should sink in
twenty fathoms water, and rise again without as-
sistance at the expiration of 24 hours. Accord-
ingly, making all secure, fastening down his trap-
door, and providing all necessaries, as well as with
the means of making signals to indicate his situ-
ation, this unhappy victim of his own ingenuity
entered, and was sunk. No signal was made, and
the time appointed elapsed. An immense con-
course of people had asseml>led to witness his
rising, but in vain; for the vessel was never seen
more. The ptessure of water at so great a depth
had, no doubt, been completely under-estimated,
and the sides of tlio vessel being at once crushed
in, the unfortunate projector perished before he
could even make the signal concerted to indicate
iiiir distress."*

Many other applications of the principles of
hydrostatics might have been mentioned, but what
Jias been now stated may ser\'e to exemplify the
practical utility of an acquaintance v.'ith such
principles, not oidy to engineers and superinten-
dents of public works, but to mechanics and arti-
ficers of every description.

The science of Pneumatics, which treats of the
mechanical properties of the atmosphere, will
likewise be found useful to mechonics and artists
of various descriptions, to whom it is, in many
cases, of importance to know something of the
effects of the resistance, the pressure, and the elas-
ticity of air. The construction of barometers,
syph JUS, syringes, and air-pumps, depends upon
the pressure of the atmosphere, and likewise

• Hersol el's " Discourse ore ttie Study of ]^atural Phi-
logofiliy."

water-pumps, firo-engines, and many other hy-
draulic machines; and, consequently, the con-
structors of such instruments and engines must
frequently act at random, if they are unacquain-
ted with the nature and properties of the atmo-
sphere, and the agency it exerts in sucli mechani-
cal contrivances.* Even the carpenter and the
mason may be directed, in some of their opera-
tions, by an acquaintance with the doctrines of
pneumatics. When two pieces of wood are to be
glued together, they are first made as even and
smooth as possible; the glue is then applied to one
or both of the surfaces; they are then pressed to-
gether until the glue has become thoroughly dry
Tlie use of the glue is to fill up every crevice in tli9
pores of the wood, so as to prevent the admission
of any portion of air between the jtieces; and
then the atmosphere, with a force equal to 15
pounds on every square inch, presses the pieces
firmly together. A knowledge of this principle
will suggest the propriety of filling up every
opening or crevice, and continuing the pressure
for some time, as the air, wherever it gains admis-
sion, has a tendency, by its elastic force, to loosen
every species of cement. The same principle
might direct bricklayers and masons, in building
eitiier stone or brick-walls, in suggesting the pro-
priety of filling up every crevice with the most
tenacious cements, so as to prevent the access of
the external air to the interior of the walls. For
there can be no question that the firmness and
stability of our houses and garden-walls depend,
in part, upon the pressure of the atmosphere,
after the interior crevices are thoroughly filled up
An extensive knov/ledge of this science would
likewise direct them to tlie proper mode of con-
structing the flues of chimnej's, so as to prevent
that most disagreeable of all circumstances in
dwelling houses, smoky chimneys. From igno-
rance of the effects of heat, of the experiments
that have been made on rarefied air, and their re-
lation to our common fires, — of the proper di-
mensions of funnels, — of the effect of winds and
currents of air, — of the proper hight and width
of chimneys, — of the method of promoting a
good draught, and making the air pass as near the
fire as possible, and various other particulars re-
quisite to be attended to in the construction of
fire-places -and their flues; many dwelling-houses
have been bungled, and rendered almost unin-
habitable. The workmen, in such operations,
without any rational principle to guide them, car-
ry up funnels in the easiest way they can, accord-
ing to the practice of "use and wont," and leave

* As an illustration of the importance of being acquaint-
ed with the atmospheric pressure, the following anecdote
may be here inserted : — A respectable gentleman, of landed
property, in one of tlie middle counties of Scotland, applied
to a friend of mine, a Lecturer on Chemistry, and Natural
I'hilo.-ophy, in order to obtain his advice respecting apnmp-
well which he had lately constructed at considerable ex-
[lensc. He told l.im, that, notwithstanding every exertion,
lie could not obtain a drop of water from the spout, a though
he was <piite sure there was plenty of water in the well, and
alt/ioiigh he had plastered il all around, and blocked up ecery
crivirc. When my friend insiiected the pump, he suspected
that the upper part of the well was air-tight, and consequent-
ly, that the atmospheric pressure could not act on the sur.
f;'ce of the water in the well. He immediately ordered a
hole to be oored adjacent to the pump, when the air rushed
in with considerable force; and, on pumping, the water flow.
cd copionslv from the spout. The gentleman was both over-
joyed and astonished; but it is somewh.at astonishing, that,
neither he, nor his neighbors, nor any of the workmen who
had been employed in its construction, should have been able
to point out the cause of the defect; but, on the other hand,
should have taken the tcry opposite means for remedying
it, namely, by plastering up every crevice, so as to produce a
kind of vacuum within the well. This and similar fact*
show how little progress scientific knowledge has yet
made, even among tire midd'e classes of the community;

&6

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

the tenants or proprietors of the houses they erect
to get rid of their smoke in the best way their
fancy can contrive. Whereas, were chimneys
and tlit'ir flues constructed according to tiie prin-
ciples of .science, they might be rendered, almost
with certainty, completely efficient for the pur-
pose intended.

To all who are acquainted with Uic nature and
properties of elastic fluids, it must be obvious,
that the whole mystery of curing smoky chim-
neys consists in finding out and removing the ac-
cidental causes which prevent the heated smoke
from being forced up the chimney by the pressure
of the cool or heavier air of the room These
causes are various; but that which will be found
most commonly to operate is, the bad construc-
tion of the chimney in the neighborhood of the
fire-place. "The great fault," says Count Rum-
ford, " of all the open fire-places now in common
use is, that they are much too large, or rather it
is the throat of the chimney, or the lower part of
its open canal, in the neighborhood of the mantle,
and immediately over the fire, wliich is too large."
The following is a condensed view of soine of the
rules given on this subject, by this ingenious
practical philosopher, and which are founded on
the principles of science, and on numerous expe-
riments:— 1. The throat of the chimney should
be perpendicularly over the fire; as the smoke
and hot vapor which rise from a fire naturally
tend upward. By the throat of a chimney is
meant the lower extremity of its canal, where it
unites with the upper part of its open fire-place.
2. The nearer the throat of a chimney is to the
fire the stronger will be its draught, and the less
danger of its smoking; since smoke rises in con-
sequence of its rarefaction by heat, and the heat
is greater nearer the fire than at a greater dis-
tance from it. But the draught of a chimney
may be too strong, so as to consume the fuel too
rapidly; and, therefore, a due medium must be
fixed upon, according to circumstances. 3. That
four inches is the proper width to be given to the
tliroat of a chimney, reckoning across from the
top of the breast of the chimne)', or the inside of
the mantle to the back of the chimney; and even
in large halls, where great fires are kept up, this
width should never be increased beyond A^ ^ or 5
inches. 4. The width given to the back of the
chimney should be about one-third of the width
of the opening of the fire-place in front. In a
room of middling size, thirteen inches is a good
size for the width of the back, and 3 times 13 or
39 inches for the width of the opening of the fire-
place in front. 5. The angle made by the back
of the fire-place and the sides of it, or covings,
should be 135 degrees, which is the best position
they can have for throwing heat into the room.
6. The back of the chimney should always be
built perfectly uprigld. 7. Where the throat of a
chimney has an end, that is to say, where it en-
ters into the lower part of the open canal of the
chimney, there the three walls which form the
two covings and the back of the fire-pUice should
all end abruptly, without any slope, wliich will
render it more difficult for any wind from above
to force its way through the narrow passage of
the throat of the chimney. The back and covings
should rise 5 or 6 inches higher than the breast
of the chimney. 8. The current of air which,
passing under the mantle, gets into the chimney,
should be made gradually to bend its course vp-
tcard, by which means it will units quietly with
the ascending current of smoke. This is effected
with the greatest ease and certainty, merely by
rounding off' the breast of the chimney, or back

part of the mantle, instead of leaving it flat or
full of holes and corners. Fig. 1 shows the sec-
tion of a chimney on the common construction,
in which d e is the throat. Fig. 2 shows a sec-
tion of the same chimney altered and improved,
in which d i is the reduced throat, four indies in
the direction of d i, and thirteen inches in a litM
parallel to the mantle.

Fig. 1.

Fig. 2.

Masons, bricklayers and others, who are inter-
ested in this subject, would do well to procure
and study Count Rumford's "Essay," which was
originally sold for two shillings. His directions
have seldom been accurately attended to in thia
country by those who have pretended to improve
chimneys on the principles he has laid down,
partly from carelessness, and partly from igno-
rance of the elements of science. When the
grate is not set in its proper place, when its sloping
iron back is retained, — when no pains have been
taken to make its ends coincide with the covinga
of the fire-place, — when the mantle, instead of
having its back rounded off, is a vertical plane of
iron, cutting a column of smoke which rises be-
neath it; and, above all, when the throat of the
chimney, instead of four, is made, as we often
see, fourteen inches wide, — not one of the Count's
directions has been attended to, and his' principles
have as little to do with the construction of such
a chimney as with the building of the dykes of
Holland, or the pyramids of Egypt.

A knowledge of the science of Optics, which
explains the nature of vision, and the laws by
which light is refracted and reflected, is essential*
ly requisite to the makers of telescopes, microscopes,
aad all other dioptric and catoptric instruments,
in order to carry them forward to their highest
pitch of improvement. And yet how often do
we find many of those employed in the constiuc-
tion and manufacture of such instruments glar-
ingly deficient in the first principles of optical
science? One maker imitates the instruments of
another without discrimination, and while he
sometimes imitates the excellencies, he as fre-
quently coprfes the defects. Hence the glaring
deficiencies in the construction of the eye-pieces
of most of our pocket telescopes, and the narrow
field of view by which they are distinguished,
which a slight acquaintance with the properties
of lenses would teach them to obviate. By a
moderate acquaintance with the principles of this
science, any ingenious mechanic miglit, at a
small expense, be enabled to construct for him-
self many of those optical instruments by whick

APPLICATIONS OF OPTICAL KNOWLEDGE.

57

the beauties of the animal and vegetable king-
doms, and the wonders of distant worlds have
been e\i)lorcd.

Although, in the hands of mathematicians, the
icience of optics has assumed somewhat of a for-
bidding appearance to the untutored mind, by the
ippurenlly complex and intricate diagrams by
•viiich its doctrines have been illustrated, yet it
requires onlj' the knowledge of a few simple facts
and principles to guide an intelligent mechanic in
his experiments, and in the construction of its
instruments. In order to the construction of a
refracting telescope, it is only requisite to know,
that the raj's of light, passing througii a convex-
glass, paint an image of any object directly before
it, at a certain point behind it, called its focus;
and that tiiis image may be viewed and magnified
by another convex-glass, placed at a certain dis-
tance behind it. Thus, let CD, tig. 1, represent
a convex-glass, whose focal distance CE is 12
inches; let AB represent a distant object directly
opposite; the rays of light passing from this ob-
ject, and crossing each other, will form an image
of the object AB at EF, in the inverted position.
Let GH represent another convex-glass, whose
focal distance is only one inch. If tiiis glass is
placed at one inch distant from the image EF, or

13 inches f/am the glass CD, and the eye applied
at the point S, tlie object AB will be seen turned
upside down, and magnified in the proportion of
1 to 12, or twelve times in length and breadth.
This forms what is called an Astronomical tele-
scope; but, as everything seen through it appears
inverted, it is not adapted for viewing terrestrial
objects. In order to fit it for viewing land ob-
jects, two other eye-glasses, of the same focal
distance (namely, one inch), are requisite; the
second eye-glass IK is placed at 2 inches from
GH, or double their focal distance,, and the glass
NO at the same distance from IK.* By this
means a second image IM is formed in an upright
position, which is viewed by the eye at F, through
the glass NO, and the object appears nagnified in
the same proportion as before. The magnifying

* This is not tlip bnsl form nf a terrestrial eye-piece; but it
may serve for the purpose of illustration. The eye-piece
now most generally used, consists oi' four lenses, combined
in a diflerent principle.

power of a telescope of this construction is found
by dividing the focal distance of the object-glass
by the focal distance of the eye-glass. Tlius, if
the object glass be 36 inches in focal distance,
and the eye-glass 1 fo inch, the magnifying power
will be 24 times; if the focus of the eye-glass be 2
inches, the magnifying power will be 18 times,
&c. — LM is the telescope fitted up for use.

A compound microscope might likewise be eas-
ily constructed by any ingenious artisan or me-
chanic, by attending to the following illustrations
and directions. Fig. 2 represents the glasses of a
compound microscope. AB is the glass next the
object; CD is the amplifying glass for enlarging
the field of view; EF is the glass next the eye.
When a small object, as GH, is placed below the
object-glass AB, at a little more thaa its focal dis-
tance from it, a magnified image of this object ia
formed by the glass AB at GH, which is magni-
fied in proportion ns the distance GG exceeds tho
distance of AG. This magnified image of the ob-
ject is magnified a second time by the glass EF,
to which the eye is applied at K. This instru-
ment, when fitted up for use, is represented in fig
3, where LM represents a box or pedestal on which
it stands, NO the stage on which the objects are
placed, over the opening i, which is supported by
3 pillars fixed to the top of the box. P is a tube
which is supported by 3 pillars fixed into the stage.
Into this tube the tube R slides up and down far
adjusting the focus. The small tube ti, •vhich car-
ries the object-glass, is connected with ine tube R,
and slides up and down along with it. S s the tube
which contains the two eye-glasses, and which may
be made to slide up and down into the tube R, for
increasing the magnifying power when occasion
requires. T is a mirror, fixed on tlie pedestal, ca-
pable of moving up and down, and to the right or
left, for throwing light upon the object placed over
the hole i, which may be laid upon a slip of thin
glass. The object-glass AB, fig. 2, is placed at n,
fig. 3. The glass CD is placed 0])posite W, fig. 3,
and the eye-glass EF opposite V.

58

ON Till} GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

Fig. 3.

Such are the essential parts of a compound mi-
croscope. Any common mechanic may construct
one for himself by attendiiicr to the following di-
rections: The object-glass AB, fig. 2, may be about
/'2> ^-i' o'" l i"*^^ focal distance, and the aperture,
or hole which lets in the light from the object,
should not exceed 1-lOth of an inch, otherwise it
will cause a glare, which will produce an indistinct
image of the object. The amplifying glass CD
may be 2^^ inches focal distance, and Ijn inch in
diameter. This glass is not essentially necessary,
but it serves to enlarge the field of view, and to
render it more distinct near the border. The eye-
glass EF should be about 1 inch focus, and about
^^ inch in diameter. With respect to the distan-
ces at which they should be placed from each other,
the glass CD may be placed at about 5 or 6 inches
from AB, and the glass EF about 2 inches, or 1 Tg
inch from CD. The object-glass should be a dou-
ble convex — the eye-glasses may be plano-convex ;
that is, plane on the one side and convex on the
other, with the plane sides turned next the eye;
but double convexes will do, if these cannot be
procured. The tubes which contain the glasses
may be made of pasteboard, and the stage, pillars,
and box, of wood. The glasses may be procured
for about 4 shillings; and if the individual fit them
into the tubes, and perform all the other operations
requisite, the expense of all the other materials
will not exceed otlier four shillings. Suppose,
now, that the object-glass AB is I'S inch focal dis-
tance, and the image 6H is formed at the distance
of 6 inches from it, this image will be larger than
the object, nearly in the proportion of 6 to i^, or
12 times. Suppose the glass EF, considered in
connexion with CD, to possess a magnifying pow-
er equal to 5 times, then the whole magnifying
power will be 5 X 12, or 60 times. The object,
therefore, will be magnified GO times in length
and in bre:idth, and consequently, the surface will
be magnified 3600 times, which is the square of
GO. With such a microscope, the animalculee in
water, the circulation of. the blood in frogs and
fishes, the small feathers which compose the dust
on butterflies' wings, and all the most interesting
appearances of the minute parts of animals and
legetables, may be distinctly perceived.

Baside the discoveries in the heavens and in

the minute part'* of creation, to which the study
of the science of optics has led,-:-its principles
are capable of being directed to many important
purposes in human life and society. By means of
large burning mirrors and lenses the rays c? the
sun have been condensed, so as to increase their
intensity more than seventeen thousand times, and
to produce a heat more than four hundred times
greater than that of our common fires, which
would serve for the combustion and fusion of nu-
merous substances, which are infusible in the
greatest heat that can be produced in our common
furnaces. The property of a convex lens, by
which rays proceeding from its focus are refracted
into parallel directions, has enabled us to throw,
from light-houses, a stron(^ ligld to great distances
at sea. The large polyzonal, or built up lenses,
contrived by Sir D. Brewster, which may be made
of any magnitude, and the elegant lamp of Lieu-
tenant Drummond, — the one producing the most
intense light yet known, and the other conveying
it undispersed to great distances, — promise to in-
troduce improvements hitherto unthought of, and
to diversify the nocturnal scenery both of sea and
land. For, in the progress of extensive national
improvements, they might be made subservient,
in connexion with carburetted hydrogen gas, in
enlivening and decorating the rural scene, in the
absence of the sun, and in guiding the benighted
traveler in all his journeyings. For, when we
consider the improvements, in almost every de-
partment of the social state, which have been
lately carried forward, it is surely not too much
to expect, that, in the course of a century hence,
our highways, villages, hamlets, and even some of
our moors and mountains, shall be lighted up with
gas lamps, connected with mirrors and lenses an-
alogous to those which illuminate our cities and
tovv'ns, and which direct the mariner, when ap-
proaching our shores. The following figure showa
Rg.4.
E A

B K

tlie manner in which a large lens throws a light to
great distances. Let AB, fig 4, represent one of

Fig. 5.
L

Sir D. Brewster's polyzonal lenses, or any othei
large lens, and. GK its focal distance; if a lumi-

UTILITY OF ELECTRICITY AND GALVANISM.

69

nous body CK, as the flame of a lamp, .be placed
at the focal point K, the rays of light, diverging
from CK, after passing through the lens AB, will
proceed in a parallel direction, AE, Gil, BF, and
may illuminate objects at very considerable dis-
tances. AB, fig. 4, represents a section of the poly-
zonal lens built of ten different pieces. L, fig.
5, exhibits a front view^ of the same lens. Could
Buch lenses be constructed of the size of G, 8, 10
or 12 feet in diameter, they would produce a degree
of heat from the solar rays far surpassing what
has hitherto been effected, and be capable of
throwing a brilliant light to immense distances.

Fig. G, shows the manner in which a concave
mirror TU reflects the light of a lamp VW, placed
in its focus, to great distances. It is in that way
thiat the light of the Bell rock, and other light-
houses is reflected to more than thirty or forty
miles distant.

Fig. 6.

Even the sciences of Electricity and Galvanism
might, in some instances, be rendered subser^'ient
to the operations of art. By means of the elec-
trical fluid, models of corn-mills, water-pumps,
aud orreries, showing the diurnal motion of the

earth, and the age and phases of the moon, have
been set in motion; and there can be no question,
that, in the hands of genius, it might be directed
to accomplish much more important effects. Even
the lightn iig of the clouds, which is only the elec-
trical fluid acting ou an ample scale, has been

guided by the hand of art, to perform mechanical
operations, by splitting large stones into shivers.
This has been efft'cted in the following manner.
Su])pose AB to represent a stone or portion of a
rock, wliich is intended to be split into a number
of ])ieces. Info the midst of this stone a long rod
of iron, or conductor CD, is inserted, wliich ter-
minates in a point. When a thunder-cloud, as
EF, passes over the stone, within its striking dis-
tance of the earth, the lightning from the cloud
strikes the upper part of the pointed conductor,
and is conducted downward to the heart of tho
stone, which either I'ends it in different places, or
splits it at once into a multitude of fragments.
This experiment, wliich appears to have been first
made in Pru.ssia, in Itll, -was attended with co«a-
plete success, during the first storm that jiassed
over, after the bar of iron was inserted in the
stone.

To braziers, tinsmit'is, coppersmiths, and other
workers in metals, a knowledge of Galvanism
might suggest a variety of useful hints, especially
where it is an object of importance to secure any
piece of metallic workmanship from rust. It is
found that when metals are pure and kept sepa-
rate from each other, they remain for a long time
untarnished, but when alloyed, or placed in con-
tact with other metals, they soon undergo oxida-
tion. Coins composed of one metal are found
more durable than those composed of two; and
the copper sheathing of ships which is fastened
with iron nails soon undergoes corrosion. These
effects are now explained on the principl(js of gal-
vanism. When two metallic substances of diffe-
rent kinds are connected by moisture, they form
what is called a galvanic circle; and, therefore,
when one kind of metal is placed in contact with
another, if cither water or the moisture of the
atmosphere adheres to them, a galvanic circle is
formed, and oxidation is produced. On this ground
the late Sir Humphrey Davy suggested the pro-
priety of fastening the upper shtathing of ships
with copper instead of iron nails. The same prin-
ciple may be rendered of extensive application, and
may afford many useful hints to every artisan em-
ployed in working and combining metals.

A knowledge of magnetism might also, in many
cases, be directed to useful practical applications.
This mysterious power, in connexion with its po-
larity has already enabled the miner and surveyor
to traverse the remotest corners of the largest
mines, and to trace their way back in safety
through all the windings of those subterraneous
apartments, and has directed the navigator to steer
his course with certainty, through the pathless
ocean, to his "desired haven." Throughout all
the regions of the globe the magnetic power ex-
tends its influence; and it is now found to have
an intimate connexion with heat, electricity and
galvanism. Of late years, it has been ascertained
that iron with its oxides and alloys are not the only
substances susceptible of magnetic influence.
The nuignetism of nickel, though inferior to that
of iron, is found to be considerable; and that of
cobalt and titanium is quite perceptible. Nay, the
recent discoveries of Arago have shown, " that
there is no substance but which, under proper cir-
cumstances, is capable of exhibiting unequivocal
signs of the magnetic virtue." In consequence
of a recent discovery of M. Oersted, "we are now
enabled to communicate, at and during pleasure,
to a coiled wire, of any vutal indifferently, all the
properties of a magnet — its attraction, repulsion,
and polarity, and that even in a more intense de-
gree than was previously thought to be possible in
the best natural magnets." This discovery tends

60

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

to enlarge our views of the range of magnetic in-
fluence, and to lead us to the conclusion that its
powers may hereafter be applied to purposes of
whicli at present we can have no conception.
Aitliough tiae polarity of the magnet has been of
incalculalile service to maukimi, particularly in
promoting navigation and enlarging our know-
ledge of the globe, yet we have no reason to be-
lieve thai this is the only practical purpose to
which its powers may be applied, or the only rea-
son why the Creator has so widely diffused its in-
fluonctf ill the system of nature; since, in his
diversifi'Kl operations in the material world, he so
frequeutly produces a variety of effects from one
and tile same cause. It remains with man to
prosecute his observations still more extensively
on this, subject, and his industry will, doubtless, be
rewarded with the discovery of new relations, laws,
and combinations, which may be susceptible of the
most important practical applications in the arts
which minister to the comfort and convenience of
mankind. Even in its present state, the attractive
property of magnetism is capable of being applied
as a mechanical power, in certain pieces of ma-
chinery, although its application in this way has
never yet been attempted on an extensive scale.

The following fact shows how its attractive
power has lately been applied to the prolongation
of life, and the warding off of incurable disease,
in the case of a useful class of our fellow men.
" In needle manufactories the workmen are con-
stantly exposed to excessively minute particles of
steel which fly from the grind-stoues, and mix,
though imperceptible to the eye, as the finest dust
in the air, and are inhaled with their breath. The
effect, though imperceptible on a short exposure,
yet being constantly repeated from day to day,
produces a constitutional irritation, dependent on
the tonic properties of steel, which is sure to ter-
mi'iate in pulmonary consumption; insomuch,
that persons employed in this kind of work used
scarcely ever to attain the age of forty years. In
vain was it attempted to purify the air, before its
entry into the lungs, by gauzes or linen guards;
the dust was too fine and penetrating to be ob-
structed by such coarse expedients, until some in-
genious person bethought him of that wonderful
power which every child who searches for its
mother's needle with a magnet, sees in exercise.
Masks of magnetized steel wire are now construct-
ed and adapted to the faces of the workmen. By
these the air is not merely strained but searched
in its passage through them, and each obnoxious
atom arrested and removed."*

This interesting fact affords a striking proof of
the useful purposes to which the powers and pro-
perties of natural substances may be applied, when
the mind is directed to contemplate them in all
their bearings, and to trace them to all their legit-
imate consequences. The attractive power of the
magnet, considered not only in its relation to iron
and steel, but to all other substances in which
magnetical virtue is found, in a greater or less de-
gree, to reside — might, therefore, in the hands of
an ingenious mechanic, lead to many interesting
experiments, which might pave the way for the
most important practical results.

The facts connected with the science of Geology
may likewise, in many instances, be directed to
practical purposes. From the researches which,
cf late years, have been made in the interior of
the earth, geologists are now pretty well acquaint-
ed with the position and alternation of its strata,
and with the different fossi.s which may be expec-

* Herschel's Prelim. Dis. on JVat. Philog.

ted to abound in any particular dist/ict. Although
these researches were undertaken chiefly with a
view to ascertain the changes which have hajipen-
ed in the structure of our globe, and to support
certain theories of the earth — yet they may fre-
quentlj' be of use to landed proprietors, to engi-
neers, and to speculators in mining operations, so
as to direct them in their investigations, and pre-
vent tlK'Ui from embarking in schemes that may
ultimately blast their expectations, exhaust their
resources, and lead to irretrievable ruin. The
ruinous effects sometimes produced by ignorance
of this subject are strikingly illustrated by the
following fact: —

"It is not many years since an attempt was
made to establish a colliery at Bexhill, in Sussex.
The appearance of thin seams and sheets of fossil
wood, and wood-coal, with some other indications
similar to what occur in the neighborhood of the
great coal beds in the north of England, having
led to the sinking of a shaft, and the erection of
machinery, on a scale of vast extent, — not less
than eight thousand pounds are said to have been
laid out on this project, which, it is almost need-
less to add, proved completely abortive, as every
geologist would have at once declared it must, the
whole assemblage of geological facts being adverse
to the existence of a regular coal bed in the Hast-
ings' sand; while this on which Bexhill is situated,
is separated from the coal strata by a series of in-
terposed beds of such enormous thickness as to
render all idea of penetrating through them absurd.
The history of mining speculations is full of simi-
lar cases, where a very moderate acquaintance
with the usual order of nature, to say nothing of
theoretical views, would have saved many a san-
guine adventurer from utter ruin."*

The study of the various branches of Natural
History might also be rendered productive of util-
ity in difFerent departments of the arts. It is
quite evident iliat a scientific knowledge of Bota'
ny must be highly useful to gardeners and their
laborers, and to all who take an interest in horti-
cultural and rural operations. Not only a know-
ledge of the classification and an-angement of
plants, but also of their physiological structure
and functions, of their medicinal qualities, and of
the chemical properties of soils and the different
manures, will be found of considerable utility to
such individuals. — Zoology ^nA Comparative Anato-
my, which describe the peculiar structure and
habits of animals, both foreign and domestic, will
convey various portions of interesting information
to shepherds, cattle-dealers, and agriculturists of
every description. An acquaintance witli Mine
ralogy, which treats of the solid and inanimate
materials of our globe, — the earthy, saline, inflam-
mable, and metallic substances of which it is com-
posed, must be interesting to lapidaries, jewelers,
iron-founders, and all who are emploj'ed in work-
ing various metals. To know the nature of those
substances on which they are operating, the ma-
terials with which they are united in tiieir native
ores, their combination with phosphorus, sulphur,
and carbon, the changes produced upon them by
oxygen and the different acids, their relations to
heat, and the liquids with which they may come
in contact, and the various compounds into which
they may be formed, will have a direct tendency
not only to increase their stock of general know-
ledge, but to render them more skillful and intel-
ligent in their respective professions. Meteorology,
which treats of the weather and the variable phe-
nomena of the atmosphere, will, in many iustan-

Heischel't Discourse, ^.

STEAM NAVIGATION.

61

ces, bo found a useful study to mariuors, fislier-
mcD, i.jivelers, and farmers, by wliich tlicy may
frequently be directed in their movements, and
avo.d many inconveniences and dung-ers. By
cai-efiilly attending to the motions of the barome-
ter and thermometer, and comparing them with
tlia electrical state of the atmosphere, the direction
of the winds, and the appearances of the clouds,
th? farmer may be warned of the continuance of
ram or drought, and direct liis operations accord-
ingly, so as to protect his produce from danger.

Tlii're is no application of science to the arts of
more importance, a)id more extensive in its effects,
than tliat of the employment of Steam for driving
all kinds of machinery, and for propelling vessels
al»ng rivers and across the ocean. " It has arm-
ed," says Mr. Jeflrej', " the feebie hand of man
with a power to wliich no limits can be assigned
— completed the dominion of mind over the most
refractory qualities of matter, and laid a sure
foundation for all those future miracles of me-
chanic power, which are to aid and reward the
labors of after generations." The first person
wlio appears to have entertained the idea of cm-
ploying steam for propelling vessels, was I\Ir. J.
Hulls, in the year 173(). But it was not until
ISO", when Mr. Fulton launched, at New York,
the first steam-boat he had constructed, that navi-
gation by steam was introduced to general prac-
tice, which may therefore be considered as the
epoch of the invention. In a few years every
river and bay in the United States became the
Bcene of steam navigation. In 1822 there were
more than 350 steam vessels connected with these
States, some of them of eight and nine hundred
tons burden, and by this time, doubtless, they are
more than doubled. In 1819 an expedition left
Pittsburg, descended the Ohio in steam-boats for
1100 miles, and then ascending the rapid Missouri,
proceeded to the distance of no less than two
thousand five hundred miles. They have now
been introduced into every country in Europe.
On the principal rivers and seas connected with
tlie British Isles, and even in the Scottish lakes,
these vessels are sweeping along in majestic pomp,
against wind and tide, diversifying the scenery
through which they pass, and transporting travel-
ers and parties of pleasure to their destination,
with a rapidity unexampled in former ages. On
the Clyde alone more than fifty or sixty steam
vessels are constantly plying. The scenery of the
Rhine, the Rhone, the Elbe, the Seine, the Dan-
ube, the Wolga, the lakes of Constance and Ge-
neva, and of many other rivers and inland seas,
is now enlivened by these powerful machines,
conveying goods and passengers in every direc-
tion. Even the Atlantic ocean, an extent of more
than three thousand miles, has been traversed by
a steam-boat in twenty days; and the period, we
trust, is not far distant, when the Red Sea, the
PersianGulf, the Bay of Bengal, the Indian Ocean,
the Mediterranean, the Euxine, the Gulf of Mexi-
co, and even the wide Pacific, will be traversed by
these rapid vehicles, conveying riches, liberty, re-
ligion and intelligence to the islands of the ocean,
and forming a bond of union among all nations.

The admirable improvements in the construc-
tion of steam carriages which are now going for-
ward, are no less worthy of attention. The rapid
movements of these machines, which have been
lately introduced on the Liverpool and Manches-
ter railway, and the security and comfort with
which they are attended, have excited the aston-
ishment of every beholder. And no wonder, —
since goods and passengers are now conveyed be-
tween these cities, with a velocity of nearly thirty

miles an hour! so tliat it may be said, with the
strictest propriety, that the steam engine is the
most brilliant present ever made by philosophy
to mankind.

The, discovery of carburetted hydrogen gas, and
its ap[)lication to the purpose of illuminating our
dwelling-houses, streets, and manufactories, may
also be considered in reference to the arts. Every
city, and every town of a moderate size, is nov/
enlivened with the splendid brilliancy pro luced
from this invisible substance; pipes for its con-
veyance have been laid, of many hundred miles
in extent, and diverging into numerous ramifica
lions, and thousands of artists are employed in con-
ducting its manufacture, and forming tubes, and
other devices, for distributing it in all directions.

Now, since the inventions to which I am ad-
verting are fotmded on chemical and mechanical
principles, and on the discoveries of modern
science, and since many thousands of mechanics
are now' employed in constructing the machinery
connected with these inventions, and in conduct-
ing its operations both by sea and land, it is of
the utmost importance, in order to their being fully
qualified for their respective departments, that they
understand the scientific principles which enter
into the construction of sucir machines and en-
gines, the peculiar uses of every part, the manner
in which the chemical agents employed operate,
and the effects which, in any given circumstance,
they must necessarily produce. In particular,
it is indispensably necessary, that engine-men,
and others employed for directing these machines,
when in operation, should be acquainted with
every part of their structure, and the principles
on which their movements depend; for the com-
fort and safety of the public, are dependent on the
caution and skill with which they are conducted.
How could any man be qualified for such an office
without some portion of scienlilic knov.dedge?
and how could travelers in such vehicles consider
tlieir lives and property secure, if they were not
guided by men of intelligence and prudence? To
the want of such caution and skill are chiefly to
be attributed most of the disasters and fatal ac-
cidents, connected with such operations, which
have hitherto taken place.

Beside the agriculturists, manufacturers, me-
chanics, and artificers alluded to above, there are
numerous other classes to which similar remarks
will appl}'. In short, there is scarcely an indivi-
dual, however obscure, in any department of so-
ciety, but may derive practical benefit from an
acquaintance with science. " The farm-servant
or daj'-laborer," says Lord Brougham, "whether
in his master's employ, or tending the concerns
of his own cottage, must derive great practical
benefit, — must be both a better servant, and a more
thrifty, and therefore, comfortable cottager, for
knowing something of the nature of soils and
manures, which chemistry teaches, and some-
thing of the habits of animals, and the qualities
and growth of plants, which he learns from natu-
ral liistory and chemistry together. In truth,
though a man is neither a mechanic nor a peas-
ant, but only one having a pot to boil, he is sure
to learn from science lessons which will enable
him to cook his morsel better, save his fuel, and
both vary his dish and improve it. The art of
good and cheap cookery is intimately connected
with the principles of chemical philosophy, and
has received much, and will yet receive more,
improvement from their application." — Nay, even
the kitchen maid, the laundry maid, and the mis-
tress of every family, may derive many useful
hints from the researches of science The wholo

()2

UN THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

art of cookery is a cliemical operation, and so are
the arts of wasliing-, dressing, hleacliintf, and dye-
ing. By a knowledge of the nature and proper-
ties of tlie aci.ls and other chemical substances,
they would learn how to eradicate stains of ink,
grease, iSic, from cotton, linen, woollen, and
silks, in the safest and most efleclual manner,
and many other processes of great utility in do-
mestic life. Even the art of kindling a lire, ant
of stirriiic/ it wlien kindled, depends on philo-
sophical principles. For example, the stirring of
fire is of use, because it makes a hollow, where
the air being rarefied by the adjacent heat, the
surrounding air rushes into the partial vacuum,
and imparting its oxygen, gives life to the fire and
carries the flame along with it. On this principle
the following rules are founded. 1. Never stir a
fire when fresh coals are laid on, particularly
when they are very small, because they immedi-
ately fall into the vacuum, and prevent the access
of the oxygen of the atmosphere, which is the
principle of combustion. 2. Always keep the
bottom bar clear, because it is there chiefly that
the air rushes in to nourish the fuel. 3. Never
begin to stir at top, unless when the bottom is
quite clear, and the top only wants breaking,
otherwise the unkindled fuel may be pressed
down in a body to the bottom, and the access of
atmospheric air prevented.

Illustrations, of a similar kind, of the practical
applications of science, might have been given
to an almost indefinite extent; but the above spe-
cimens may suflice as corroborative of the gene-
ral pocitiou — that scientific knowledge would
render mechanics and manufacturers of all de-
scriptions more skillful in the prosecution of their
respective employments.

Some, however, may be disposed to insinuate,
that it is quite enough for philosophers to ascer-
tain principles, and to lay down rules founded
upon them, for the direction of the mechanic or
artisan; — or, that it is only requisite that the di-
rectors and superintendents of chemical processes
and mechanical operations, should be acquainted
with that portion of science which is necessary
for their peculiar departments. But it is easy to
perceive, that a mechanic who works merely by
rules, without knov;ing the foundation or reasons
of them, is only like a child who repeats his cate-
chism by rote, without attaching a single idea to
the words he utters, or like a horse driving a
thrashing machine, without deviating from the
narrow circle to which he is necessarily confined.
When any accident occurs, when the circum-
stances of the case are somewhat changed, v/lien
the same principle on which he generally pro-
ceeds requires to be applied to a new object or
mode of operation, he either blunders his work,
or feels himself utterly at a loss how to proceed.
The least deviation from his accustomed trammels
puts him out, because he has no clear and com-
prehensive view of the principles on which his
practice depends. Hence, we uniformly find, that
a man of scientific acquirements will easily com-
prehend the plan of any new machine or archi-
tectural operation, and be able to execute it,
while he who works only by square and rule, will
hesitate at every step, and perceive innumerable
difficulties in his way. To confine artists to mere
rules, without a knowledge of the principles on
which they are founded, is to degrade their intel-
lectual nature, to reduce them to something like
mere machines, to render them less useful both
to themselves and to their employers, and to pre-
vent the improvement of the liberal and mechani-
e^ arts i

The following instance may be stated as a spe-
cimen of the advantages of chemical knowledga,
and of the practical purposes to which it may b«
applied in diiferent regions of the globe. A young
Parisian, of the name of Leger went on a com-
mercial adventure to Egy[)t in the year 1822; but
during some of the convulsions of that unsettled
country, he lost the little j)roperty with which he
was intrusted, and was forced to make a precipi-
tate retreat from Suez to Alexandria. He remain-
ed some time at Alexandria, destitute and almost
hopeless. But the talent of observation, and the
social habits characteristic of his countrymen, cam©
to his aid: in alucky moment he formed the reso-
lution of retrieving his fortune by introducing
the luxury of ice into the parched lands of the
Ptolemies. This common product of wintry re-
gions is known to be as grateful to the languid
natives of tropical climates as ardent spirits are
to the benumbed inhabitants of the Polar circle.
Having succeeded in efFecting a return to his
family, the enterprising Parisian was enabled by
the friendly assistance of Gay Lussac and The-
nard, to adopt the best means that chemistry could
devise for the preservation of ice, both during the
voyage, and after its arrival in a sultry latitude}
and at length set out from Paris with his inven-
tions, and arrived safely at Alexandria, in April
lb2',i. The sovereign of Egypt, Mahommed Ali,
was delighted at this novel addition to oriental
luxuries; and, beside valuable prt^sents, gave the
invi^ntor the exclusive right for five years of im-
porting ice into his dominions. This privilege is
estimated to be worth one million of francs, or
nearly 50,000Z. In ancient times the world was
enlightened by the learning of Egypt; the great-
est philosophers traveled thither, as to the foun-
tain-head of science; but the land of Sesostris
and Alexander has now become the prey of the
ferocious Moslem; and whatever she enjoys of
art, knowledge or civilization; she is compelled to
receive from the once barbarous regions of the
West.*

II. Scientific knowledge will not only render
persons more skillful in tlieir respective employ-
ments, but will enable them to make improtements
in the arts, and in the physical sciences with which
they are connected.

It has frequently been affirmed that many use-
ful inventions have been owing to chance, and
that persons ignorant of science have stumbled
upon them without any previous investigation.
It is not denied, that several inventions havB
originated in this way, but they are much fewer
than is generally imagined; and, in almost every
instance, where clAnce suggested the first hint of
any invention, the future improvements were di-
rected by the hand of genius and the aids of sci-
ence. It is said, that the invention of the tele-
scope was owing to a spectacle-maker's boy having
accidentally taken up two convex glasses of di^
ferent focal distances, and placed the one near his
eye and the other at a considerable distance, when
he perceived, on looking through them, the spire
of a neighboring church turned upside down, and
much larger than its usual size The father of
the boy, amazed at this singular appearance, be-
thought himself of adjusting two glasses on a
board, supporting them in two brass or wooden
circles, which might be removed nearer to, or far-
ther from each other at pleasure, as in the fol-
lowing figure, where A represents the object, B
the lens next the object, a the inverted image

• ScoU' Mechan. Mag., 1825.

ORIGIN OF USEFUL INVENTIONS

68

'*'•*«.-

•«*,,

^.^^^r^gP"

Illllllllll'lllllPllllli'llllllllllllllllitiillllllllllllliillli^^^^

formed b}'^ it, C the glass next the eye, and D the
sliding board on which it was fixed, for adjusting
the focus. Such appears to have been the first
rude construction of a telescope. But so long as
tlie invention remained in this rude state, it was
of little benefit to society. It was not before
Galileo, a philosopher of Tuscany, heard of the
circumstance, and entered into investigations on
the refraction of light, and the properties of
lenses, that this noble instrument was improved
and directed to the heavens for the purpose of
making astronomical discoveries; and all tiiesnb-
Beqnent improvements it has received, have been
the result of reasonings and experimental inves-
tigations, conducted by men of science. Sir
Isaac Newton, in consequence of Ids experiments
and discoveries respecting light and colors, detected
the true cause of the imperfection of the common
refracting telescope, and suggested the substitu-
tion of metalline specula instead of lenses, which
led him to the invention of the reflecting tele-
scope; and Mr. DoUand, in consequence of his in-
testigations and experiments respecting the different
degrees of refraction and divergency of color pro-
duced by different kinds of glass, effected the
greatest improvement that had ever been made on
the refracting telescope, by producing an image
free of the imperfections caused by the blending
of the prismatic colors. And we have reason to
believe, that the further improvement of this tele-
scope will chiefly depend on ascertaining the true
chemical composition of flint glass for achromatic
purposes, and the proper mode of conducting its
manufacture, which may lead to the construction
of instruments of this kind, on a more extensive
scale than has ever yet been attempted, and to
discoveries in the celestial regions far beyond
those which have hitherto been made. But such
improvements can never be effected, unless by
numerous experimental investigations, conduct-
ed by those whose minds are thoroughly im-
bued with the principles of chemical and optical
Bcienoe.*

* On* of the latest improvements on Achromatic object-
glasses was made by a foreigner of the name of Giiinand,
who was originally a cabinet-maker. After acquiring a
knowledge of the principles of optics, and of the mode of
constructing telescopes, he applied himself particularly to
ascertain the proper composition of flint-glass for achromatic
purposes; and, after spendmg twenty or thirty years in ma-
king experiments — casting one pot of glass after another,
and meeting with frequent disappointments, — he at length
mcceeded in obtaining glass for achromatic telescopes, of
larger dimensions and of a quality superior to what could
formerly be procured. Of this glass was formed ihe largest
triple achromatic telescope ever constructed, which was
lately erected in the observatory of the university at Uorpat,
Dnder the direction of M. Fraunhofer. This glass is perfect-
ly free from veins, and has a greater dispersive power than
any obtained before. The diameter of this object glass is

With regard to the invention and impro\ement
of the steam-engine — a story lias been told "that
an idle boy being employed to stop and open a
valve, saw that he could save himself the trouble
of attending and watching it, by fixing a plug
upon a part of the machine which came to the
place at the proper times, in consequence of the
general movement." Whether or not this story
has any foundation in truth — certain it is, that
all the most useful improvements in this engine
have been the result of the most elaborate re-
searches and investigations of scientific truths.
The first distinct notion of the structure and ope-
ration of this powerful macliine appears to have
been given by the Marquis of Worcester, in 1663,
in his "Century of Inventions." Its subsequent
improvements by Savary, Blackey, Newcomen,

almost ten inches, and its focal distance 15 feet. It has fotir
eye pieces, the lowest magnifying 175 times, and the
highest TOO times. Mr. Tulley of Islington lately construct,
ed, of similar materials, manufactured by the same artist, a
telesco])e whose object-glass is about seven inclies diameter,
and its focal length twelve feet,whii;h is now in the possession
of Dr. Pearson. The piece of flint-glass of which the concave
lens was formed, cost Mr. Tulley about thirty guineas. Un-
fortunately for science, the ingenious artist [Guinand] is now
dead, and it is uncertain whether he has left any particular
details of his process behind him. The possibility, how-
ever, of procuring glass for the construction of very large ach-
romatic telescopes, is now put beyond a doubt.

The unscientific reader may acquire a general idea of an
achromatic object-glass from the tbllowing figure, — where A
D represents a double unequally convex lens oi crown-glass,
C B a double concave offlint-gla.i.f, and E F another convex
lens of crown glass. These are placed together in the man-
ner represented in the figure, and form what is called an

achromatic object-glass, the term arhromatic signifying/r«
of color. Sometimes only two lenses, a convex of crown,
and a concave offlint glass are combined for the same pur-
pose. In the case of a single convex glass, the image form-
ed is blended with the prismatic colors which come to foci,
at diflerent distances from the lens, and consequently pro-
duce a comparatively indistinct image, which will not ad-
mit of a high magnifying power. lUit the achromatic lens,
forming an image without color, will bear a larger aperture,
and a higher magnifying power, than a common refractor of
the same length. So great is the dift'erence — that an achro-
matic telescope of Dolland, only three feet ten inches in
length, was found to equal, and even excel the famous aerial
telescope of Hoygens of 123 ft- focal length, and the gentlemen
present at the trial agreed that "the dwarf was fairly a match
for the giant." The principal obstacle to their construction on
a larger scale, is the difficulty of procuring large pieces of Aim
glass free of veins, and of a proper dispersive quality.

64

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

Beigliton and Fitzgerald, were the results of
physical knowledge, of mechanical skill, and of
tho most laborious investigations. Its latest and
most important improvements by Mr. James Watt,
were owing no less to the scientitic knowledge
which adorned his mind, than to his mechanical
ingenuity. IIo was a man of a truly philosophi-
cal mind, eminently conversant in all branch(\s of
natural knowledge, and the pupil and intimate
friend of Dr. Black, and had attended the lectures
of that distinguished philosopher in tiie univer-
sity of Glasgow. And he often acknowledged
•' that his first ideas on tiiis subject were acquired
by his attendance on Dr. Black's chemical lec-
tures, and from the consideration of his theory
of latent heat, and the expansibility of steam."
We may therefore rest assured, that all the future
improvements and new applications of this noble
invention will be the result of physical and chem-
ical knowledge combined with mechanical skill;
and consequently, no artisan can ever expect to
be instrumental in bringing the steam-engine to
its highest pitch of improvement, and in direct-
ing its energies to all the purposes to which they
may be applied, unless the pursuits of science oc-
cupy a considerable share of his attention.

The first hint of the mariner's compass is gene-
rally supposed to have been owing to chance.
Some persons may have accidentally observed,
that when a small loadstone is suspended in water
on a piece of wood or cork, its ends pointed
toward the south and north. Such experiments
seem to have been applied at first for mere amuse-
ment, and to excite astonishment in the minds of
the ignorant and illiterate. But it was not until
Bome genius possessed of science and of reflecting
powers seized the hint thus given, that it was ap-
plied to the important purpose of directing the
mariner in his course through the pathless ocean.
And to science we are indebted for the manner
of determining the declination of the needle, in
all parts of the world, by means of the azimuth
compass, and thus rendering it an accurate guide
to the navigator in every region through which
he moves. The discovery of that peculiar prin-
ciple termed galvanism, was partly owing to acci-
dent. While Galvani, professor of anatomy at
Bologna, was one day employed in dissecting a
frog, in a room where some of his friends were
amusing themselves with electrical experiments,
one of them having happened to draw a spark
from the conductor, at the same time that the pro-
fessor touched one of the nerves of the animal,
its whole body was instantly shaken by a violent
convulsion. Having afterward suspended some
frogs from the iron palisades which surrounded
his garden, by means of metallic hooks fixed in
the spines of their backs, he observed that their
muscles contracted frequently and involuntarily,
as if from a shock of electricity. Such facts,
presented to the view of unscientific persons,
might have produced notliing more than a gaze
of wonder; perhaps supernatural powers might
have been resorted to in order to account for the
phenomena, and in a short time they might have
been forgotten as a vision of the night. But such
scientific minds as those of Valli, Volta, Monro,
Fowler, Davj', Humboldt and Wollaston, having
seized upon these facts, having contemplated them
in every point of view, and instituted experi-
ments of every description in relation to them —
most astonishing discoveries in science have been
brought to light — the whole aspect of chemistry
has been changed, and numerous improvements
Introduced into the practice of the useful arts.
Alkalts have been decomposed, new metallic sub-

stances discovered, the cause of the corrosion of
metals ascertained, and the means determined by
which it may be effectually prevented.

It is a truth which the whole history of science
fully corroborates, that very few important dis-
coveries have been made by accident or by igno-
rant persons, whose minds were not directed to
the particular object of research. On the other
hand, we have every i-eason to believe, that there
are many facts and circumstances which have
passed under the inspection of untutored minds,
which, had they come within the range of men
of science, would have led to n)any useful inven-
tions which are yet hid in the womb of futurity,
and which will reward the industry of more en-
lightened generations. The inventions to which
we have now adverted, and many others, where
chance suggested the first rude hints, would, in
all probability, have lain for ages in obscurity,
without any real utility to mankind, had not the
genius of science seized upon them, viewed them
in all their bearings, and traced them to all their
legithnate consequences and results. Had the
telescope, the steam engine, and the mariner's
compass, in their first embryo state, remained
solely in the hands of ignorant empirics, they
might have been reserved merely as play-things
for the purpose of vulgar amusement, or exhibit-
ed by cunning impostors to aid their deceptions,
or to produce a belief of their supernatural pow-
ers. But science snatched them from the hands
of the ignorant and the designing, and having
added the requisite improvements, bequeathed
them to mankind as the means of future advance-
ment in the paths of knowledge, and in the prac-
tice of the arts.

It may be laid down as a kind of axiom, to
which few exceptions will occur, that great dis-
coveries in science and improvements in art are
never to be expected but as the result of know-
ledge combined with unwearied investigation.
This axiom might be illustrated, were it neces-
sary, fi-om what we know of the past history of
our most useful inventions. The celebrated M.
Huygeus, who first discovered the means of ren-
dering clocks exact by applying the pendulum,
and rendering all its vibrations equal by the cy-
cloid— was one of the first mathematicians and
astronomers of his age. He had long kept the
object of his pursuit before his mind, he plied his
mechanical ingenuity in adapting the machinery
of a clock to the maintaining of tlie vibrations
of a pendulum, and by his mathematical know-
ledge investigated the theory of its motion. By
the aid of a new department of geometrical sci-
ence, invented by himself, he showed how to
make a pendulum swing in a cycloid, and that its
vibrations in this curve are all performed in equal
times, whatever be their extent. The ingenious
Mr. Robert Hooke, who was the inventor of
spring or pocket watches, and of several astro-
nomical instruments for making obsei-vations both
at sea and land — was eminently distinguished for
his philosophical and mathematical acquirements.
From his earliest years he discovered a genius
for mechanics, and all his other knowledge was
brought to bear upon his numerous inventions
and contrivances. — Otto Guerieke, who invented
the Air-pump, was one of the first mathematicians
of his time; and the Honorable Robert Boyle,
who improved this valuable instrument, was one
of the most illustrious philosophers of the ago
and country in which he lived. — Mr. Fergusouj
the inventor of several orreries, the astronomical
rotula, the eclipsarian, the mechanical paradox,
and other astronomical machinery, had, from hia

ORIGIN OF USEFUL INVENTIONS.

65

•arlicst years, devoted the greatest part of his
time to the study of mechanics, and tliu pliysical
and niathematicul sciences with which it is con-
nected, as appears from the numerous popular
works which he published on these sulijects, which
are slill in extensive circulation. — Tin; late Mr.
Arkwrigiit, the inventor of the spinning jennies,
devoted many years to the study of niechanics
and to the inii)rovi'rnent of his invention, until he
was perfectly conversant in everything that re-
lates to the construction of machinery. This ad-
inirahle invention, by which a pound of the finest
cotton has been spun by machinery into a yarn
extending more than 111) miles, was not the result
of chance, but of the most unwearied study and
attention in regard to every circumstance which
had a bearing on the object of his pursuit: and as
he had not originally received anything like a
regular scientific education, his acquirements were
the result of his own application and industry. —
"The new process of refining sugar, by wliich
more money has been made in a shorter time,
and with less risk and trouble, than was ever per-
haps gained from an invention, was discovered by
an accomplished chemist, E. Howard, brother
of the Duke of Norfolk, and was the fruit of a
long course of experiments, in the progress of
which, known philosophical principles were con-
stantly applied, and one or two new principles as-
certained."

There are few inventions of modern times that
have been more directly the result of philosophi-
cal knowledge and experiment, than the safety-
lamp, invented hy that accomplished chemist, the
late Sir Humphrey Davy. He instituted a series
of philosophical ex|)oriments, with the express
purpose of constructing, if possible, a lamp by
which the miner iiiight walk through a body of
fire-damp in his subterraneous apartments with-
')ut danger of an ex))losion; and the success with
which his investigations v/ere attended, led to one
of the most beautiful and useful inventions which
distinguish the period in which we live.* Had
this ingenious philosopher been ignorant of the
nature and properties of carbureted hydrogen
gas, of the comjiosition of atmospheric air, of the
nature of combustion, and of the general princi-
ples of chejnical science, he could never have hit
upon the construction of this admirable instru-
ment, and the useful miner woidd still liave been
left to grapple with his invisible enem)' (the fire-
damp) without any means of escaping from its
destructive agency.f

• Bee Appendix, No. IX.

t It is more than probable, that fatal accidents have occor-
red in coal mines where these lamps have been nsed, o\vin<;
to the ignorance and inattention of some of those artists wlio
have been employed in forming the irirc-gauze with which
they are surrounded, A friend of mine, who performed a
great variety of experiments with this instrument, with
every combination of explosive gas, informed me, that, with
a lamp surrounded with wire-gauze, manufactured by an ar-
tist in a town in tlie north of Enwland, and xoho supplied it
fortlic «,ve oftlw miners — an explosion uniformly took place
when the instrumentwas placed ina bodyof inflammable gas.
He suspected that the apertures in the wire-gauze were too
large, and remonstrated with the artist on his want of accu-
racy; and it was not before he procured wauze with smaller
apertures that his experiments succeeded; and they were at-
tended with complete success in every future experiment,
after the gauze was changed. So small was the difl'erence
in the contexture of the two pieces of the ganze, that, to a
common eye, it was scarcely perceptible. It is found by ex-
periment, that the apertures in the ganze should not exceed
one twentieth of an inch square, and that wire from one for-
tietli to one sixtieth of an inch diameter, is the most conve-
nient. Had llie artist alluded to, known how to perform cx-
peiinients with this instrument, and tried the eti'ects of his
gauze before he sold it for the purpose intended, such seri-
ous b'.unders would not have been committed. Who knows

Vol. I.— 5

We may farther remark, that the mechanic
whose mind is enlightened with scientific know-
ledge, has a much yrcater chance of being iii.Hru-
menial in improoiny the arts, than the mere chiinist
or philosopher. While the mere philosephcr is de-
monstrating principles and forming theories in hia
closet, and sometimes performing cxperinunts,
only on a small scale, — the workman, in ceilain
manufactories, has a daily opportunity of contem-
plating chemical processes and mechanical opera-
tions on an extensice scale, and of peiceiving
numberless mollifications and contrivances, wliich
require to be attended to, of which the mere sci-
entific speculator can form but a very faint and
inadequate conception. Being familiar with the
most minute details of every proce.ss ami opera-
tion, ho can perceive redundancies and delects
imperceptible to other ob.^ervers; and, if he has
an accurate knowledge of the general principles
on which his operations depend, he must be best
qualified for suggesting and contriving the requi-
site improvements. As the mechanic is constant-
ly handling the tools and materials with which
new experiments and improvements may bo
made, — observing the effects of certain contri-
vances, and of deviations from established prac-
tice— and witnessing the chemical and mechanical
actions of bodies on each other — he has more op-
portunities of observation in these respects, and,
consequently, is more likely than any other class
of society to strike out a new path which may-
lead to some useful invention in the arts, or dis-
covery in the sciences.* But if his miiid is not
imbued with knowledge, he trudges on, like a
mill-horse, in the same beaten track, and may
overlook a thousand opportunities of performing
experiments, and a thousand circumstances which
might suggest new improvements.

In short, in so far as chance is concerned in
new discoveries and iinprovements in the arts,
the scientific mechanic has a hundred chances to
one, compared with the ignorant artificer, that, in
the course of his operations, he shall hit upon a
new principle of improvement: his chances of
such results are even superior to those of the

but the deficiency in the gauze alluded to might have beea
the cause oflthe destruction of several lives in the pits wher«
it was used? for it is a certain fact, that accidents from ex-
plosions are occasionally occurring, even in mines wher*
these lamps are generally in use. Hence the necessity of
chemical knowledge and attention to scientific accuracy in
those who are the manufacturers of instruments of this de-
scription— on the accurate construction of which the livet
and comforts of a useful body of the community may depend.
I know not whether it be customary to put the safety-lamp
into the hands of the miner, without first trying its efficien-
cy for resisting the effects of explosive gases. If it is not,
it is a most glaring and dangerous oversight; and there caa
be no (juestion, that to the neglect of this precaution are to
be attributed many of those explosions which have takea
place in the mines where this lamp has been introduced.
Besides, such neglects have a direct tendency to detract
from the merits of this noble invention, to prevent its uni-
versal adoption, and to render uncertain its efficiency for
warding off destructive explosions. But from the experiments
alluded to above, which were performed with the greatest
care, and with every possible combination of explosive gas,
and frequently exhibited in private, and before large |)uhIio
auriiences — the efiiciency of^ this lamp for resisting the et-
fects of fire-damp is put beyond the shadow of a doubt. It
is known to be the practice of some miners, occasionally to
screw off the top of their lamp, in order to enjoy the benefit
of more light than what shines through the wire-gauze. Such
a practice ought to be strictly prohibited, and the instrument
if possible, rendered incapable of being opened at t0|> — s
piactice which may probably have been the occasion of sev-
eral explosions. If the workmen in mines were carefully
instructed in the general principles of chemistry, and par-
ticularly in the nature of combustion, explosions, and th«
qualities of the different gases, they would not dare to ba>-
ard such dangerous experiments.
* See Appendix, No. X.

66

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

most profound pliilosophcrs wlio never eng.'ige in
practical oporutions, ;;s l.e is constantly in the
way of j)erCL-iving what is usele.--s, dol'ective, or
in any way amiss in the common methods of pro-
cedure. 'I'o use a common expresjion, "ho is in
the way of srood luck, and if lie possesses the re-
quisite- information, lie can take the advantajre of
it when it comes lo him " And should he-liC so
foiiiiiiate as to hit on a new invention, he will
proi)al)ly enjoy not merely the honor which is at-
tuchi-d to a new discovery, but also the pecuniary
adv;i;:tages which generally resnlt from it.

We have, therefore, every reason to hope, that,
were seientiiic knowledge universally dill'usevi
among the working classes, every department of
the useful arts would proceed with a rapid pro-
gress to perfection, and new arts and inventions,
hitherto unknown, be introduced ou the tiieater
of tlie world, to increase the enjoyments of do-
mestic society, and to embellish t!ie face of nature.
No possible limits can be assigned to the powers
of gonins, to the resources of science, to tlie im-
provement of machinery, to the aids to be derived
from chemical resources, and to the skill and in-
dustry of mechanics and laborers when guided
by the light which scientific discoveries have dif-
fused around them. Almost every new discovery
in nature lays the foundation of a new art; and
since the recent discoveries of chemistry lead to
the conviction, that the properties and powers of
material substances are only becjinning to be dis-
covered— the resources of art must, in some mea-
sure, keep pace with our knowledge of the pow-
ers of nature. It is by seizing on these powers,
and employing them in subserviency to his de-
signs, tliat man has been enabled to perform ope-
rations which the whole united force of mere
animal strength could never have accomplished.
Steam, galvanism, the atmospheric pressure, oxy-
gen, hydrogen, and other natural agents, formerly
unnoticed or unknown, have been called into ac-
tion by the genius of science; and, in the form
of steam-boats and carriages. Voltaic batteries,
gasometers and air-balloons, have generated forces,
effected decompositions, diffused the most bril-
liant illuminations, and produced a celerity of
motion both on sea and land which have aston-
ished even the philosophical world, and which
former generations would have been disposed to
ascribe to the agencies of infernal demons. And
who shall dare to set boundaries to the range of
ecientiiic discovery — or to say, that principles and
powers of a stUl more wonderful and energetic
nature, shall not be discovered in the system of
nature, cjlculated to perform achievements still
more striking and magnificent? IVIuch has, of
ate years, been performed by the application and
comlination of Chemical and mechanical pow-
«rs, but much more, we may confidently expect,
will be achieved in generations yet to come, when
<the physical universe .shall be more extensively
explored, and the gates of the temple of know-
le.'.ge thrown open to all. Future Watts, Davys
and Arkwrights will doubtless arise, with minds
fitill more brilliantly illuminated with the lights
of science, and the splendid inventions of the pre-
eent age be far surpassijd in the " future miracles
of mechanic power," which will distinguish the
ages which are yet to come. But, in order to
this "wished for consummation," it is indispen-
sably requisite that the mass of mankind be
arcusftd from their slumbers, that knowledge be
•Baiv.Tsally diffused, and that the light of science
shv'i its influence on men of every nation, of
eveiy profession, and of every rank. And if,
through apathy or avarice, or inuulgence in sen-

sual propensities, we refuse to lend our heljiing
hand to this object, now. that a sj)iiit of inquiry
has gone abroad in the world — society may yet
rVlapse into the darkness which envclojjed the
hnmnu mind during the middle ages, and the no-
ble inventions of the past and present age, Iflie
the stately monuments of Grecian and Roman
art, be lost amidst the mists of ignorance, oi
blended with the ruins of empires.

III. The knowledge and mental activity con-
nected w;th the improvement of the arts, v>ould
promote the external comforts of mankind, particU'
larlij of the Lower orders of society.

Since the period when the arts began to be im-
proved, and a spirit of inquiry after knowledge
was excited among the middling and lower order?,
many comforts and conveniences have been in-
troduced, and a new luster appears on the face
of general society. In many places the aspect
of the country lias been entirely changed; the
low thatched cottage of the farmer has arisen into
a stattly mansion, the noisome dunghill which
stood v.'ithin two yards of his door, has been
thrown into a spacious court at a distance from
his dwelling, and his offices display a neatness and
elegance which seem to vie with those of the
proprietor of the soil. The gloomy parish church,
witii its narrow aisle and tottering belfry, haa
been transformed into a noble lightsome edifice,
and adorned with a stately spire towering above
all surrounding objects; and the village school,
within whose narrow walls a hundred little ur-
chins were crowded, like sheep in a fold, has now
expanded into a spacious hall. Narrow dirty
paths have been improved, roads formed on spa-
cious plans, canals and railways constructed,
streets enlarged, waste lands cultivated, marshes
drained, and the interior of houses decorated and
rendi;red more comfortable and commodious. In
districts where nothing formerly appeared but a
dreary waste, priiit-fields have been e.st :b!i?hed,
cotton mills, founderies, and other manufactories
erected, villages reared, and the noise of machine-
ry, the tolling of bells, the sound of hammers,
the buzz of reels, and the hum of human voices
and of ceaseless activity, now diversify the scene
where nothing was formerly heard but the purl-
ing stream or the bowlings of the tempest. In
certain parts of the country where the passing of
a chariot was a kind of phenomenon, mails and
stage-coaches crowded with travelers of all de-
scriptions, within and without, now follow each
other in rapid succession, conveying their passen-
gers with uninterrupted rapidity, and at one-half
the expense formerly incurred. Even on tlie in-
land lake, where scarcely a small skiff was for.
merly seen, steam-vessels are now beheld sweep-
ing along in majestic style, and landing fashiona-
ble parties, heroes, divines, and philosophers, to
enliven the rural hamlet, the heath-clad moun«
tain, and the romantic glen.

Much, however, is still wanting to complete
the enjoyments of the lower ranks of society. In
the country, many of them live in the most
wretched hovels, open to the wind and rain, with-
out a separate aj)artmcnt to which an individual
may retire for mental exercise; in totem, a wholt
family is frequently crowded into n single apart-
ment in a narrow lane, surrounded with filth and
noxious exhalations, and where the light .-<" day
is scarcel)' visible. In such habitations where
the kitchen, parlor, and bed-closet are al. com-
prised in one narrow apartment, it is next to im-
possible for a man to improve his mind by read-
ing or reflection, amidst the gloom of twilight,

EXTERNAL COMFORT CONNECTED WITH SCIENCE.

67

the noiso of children, and the preparation of
victuals, even allhoiigh he felt an anient d'jsin-
for ijitellcctual enjoyment. Hence tlie tenijilu-
liou to wliich sncti persona are exposed to seek
enjoyment in wandering Ihrongh the streets, in
frequenting the alo-house, or in lounging at
the fire-side in mental inactivity. In ortier that
Ihe laborer may be stimulated to tlie cultivation
of his mental powers, he must be furnished with
those domestic conveniences requisite for attain-
ing this object. He must be paid such wages as
will enable him to procure such conveniences,
and the means of instruction, othel^visJ it is the
next thing to an insult to exhort him to' prosecute
the path of science. The long hours of labor,
and the paltry remuneration irhich ihe laborer re-
eiiocs in many of our sjjinmni/-miUs and other
manufactories, so long as such domestic slavery
and avaricious practicas continue, form an insur-
mountable barrier to the c/cncral diffusion of know-
ledge.

fjut were the minds of the lower orders im-
buod with a certain portion of useful science, and
did tliey possess such a competency as every hu-
man being ought to enjoy, their knowledge would
lead them to habits of diligence and economy. In
nioat instances it will be found, that ignorance is
the fruitful source of indolence, waste, and ex-
travagance, and that abject poverty is the result
of a want of discrimination and proper arrauge-
munt in the management of domestic atlliirs.
Now, the habits of a|)p!ication which the acqui-
sition of knowledge necessarily produces, would
naiurally be carried into the various departments
of labor peculiar to their stations, and prevent
that laziness and inattention which is too com-
mon iiiiong tlic working classes, and which not
unfrv. juently lead to poverty and disgrace. Their
k.'iow e.ige of the nature of heat, combustion, at-
Hiosjiheric air, and combustible substances, would
leaii them to a proper economy in the use of fuel;
and their acquaintance with the truths of chem-
istry, on which the art of a rational cookery is
founded, would lead them to an economical prac-
tice in the preparation of nictuaLs, and teach them
to extract from every substance all -its nutritious
quaiiti -s, and to impart a proper relish to every
dish they prepare; for want of which knowledge
ai'd attention, the natural substances intended for
the sustenance of man will not go half their length
in the hands of some as they c:o under the judi-
cious management of others. Their knowledge
of the structure aud functions of the animal sys-
tem, of the regimen which ought to be attended
to in order to health and vigor, of the causes
wiiicii produce obstructed perspiration, of the
m;'uns by which pestilential eillnvia and inftctious
diseasi^s are propagated, and of the disasters to
which the human frame is liable in certain situa-
tions, would, tend to prevent many of those diseases
and friial accidents to which ignorance and inat-
t'-nlion have exposed so many of our fellow-men.
For want of attending to such ])recautions in
these respects, as knowle.'gi would have suggest-
ed, thousands of families have been phmged into
wretchedness and ruin, which ail their future ex-
ertions were inadequate to remove. As the son
of Sirach has well observed, "Better is the poor
b^ing sound and strong in constitution, th;in a
rich man that is afflicted in his body. Health
auvl good estate of body are above all gold; there
are no nches above a sound body, and no joy
above the joy of the heart."

As slovenliness and filth are generally the char-
acteristics of ignorance and vulgarity, so an at-
teutiou to cleariliness is one of the distinguishing

features of cultivated minds. Cleanliness is con-
ducive to healtii and virtuous activity, but un-
ckanliness is prejudicial to both. Keeping the
body clean is of great importance, since mora
than one-half of wnat we eat and drink is evac-
uated by perspiration, and if the skin is not kept
clean the pores are stopped, and perspiration cou-
sequcntiy prevented, to the great injury of health.
It is higiily necessary to the health and cheerful-
ness of children; for where it is neglected, they
grow |)ale, meager, and squalid, and subject to

several loathsome and troublesome diseas.'s

Washing the hands, face, mouth, and feet, and
occasionally the whole body, conduces to liealth,
strength, and ease, and tends to prevent colds,
rheumatism, cramps, the palsy, the itch, the
tooth-ache, and many other maladies. Attention
to cleanliness of body would also lead to cl -anli-
ness in regard to clothes, victuals, apartments,
bods and furniture. 'A knowledge of the nature
of the mephitic gases, of the necessity of pure
atmospheric air to health and vigor, and of the
means by which infection is produced and com-
municated, would lead persons to see the pro])rie-
ty of frequently opeidng doors and windows to
dissipate corrupted air, and to admit the refresh-
ing breeze, of sweeping .cobwebs from the cor-
ners and ceiling of the room, and of removing
dust, straw, or filth of any kind which is off^in-
sive to the smeil, and in which infection might be
deposited. By such attention, fevers and other
malignant disorders might be prevented, vigori
health, and serenity promoted, and the whole
dwelling and its inmates present an air of cheer-
fulness and comfort, and become the seat 'f do-
mestic felicity.

Again, scientific knowledge wonld dis\ilay itself
among the lower orders, in the tasteful decoia-
tions of their houses and garden plots. The study
of botany and horticulture would teach them to
select the most beautiful flowers, shrubs, and
evergreens; to arrange their plots with neatness
and taste, and to improve their kitchen-garden to
the best advantage, so as to render it productive
for the pleasure and sustenance of their fam-
ilies. A genius for mechanical operations, vv'hich
almost every person may acquire, would lead them
to invent a variety of decorations, and to devise
many contrivances for llie purpose of conve-
niency, and for keeping everything in its ])roper
place and order — which never enter into the
conceptions of rude and vulgar minds. Were
such dispositions and mental activity generally
prevalent, the circumstances which lead to pover-
ty, beggary and drunkenn:'S3, would be in a great
measure removed, and home would always be re-
sorted to as a place of comfort and enjoj'ment.

Again, the study of science and art would in-
cline the lower classes to enter into the spirit of
every new improvement, and to give their assialance
in carrying it forward. The want of taste and of
mental activity, and the spirit of selfishness which
at present prevails among the mass of mankind,
prevent the accomplishment of a variety of
schemes which might tend to promote the con-
veniences and comforts of general society. For
example; many of our villages which might oth-
erwise present the appearance of neatness aud
comfort, are almost impassable, especially in the
winter season, and during rainy weather, on ac-
count of the badness of roads and the want of
foot-paths. At almost every step you encounter
a pool, a heap of rubbish, or a dunghill, and in
many places feel as if you were walking in 9
quagmire. In some villages, otherwise well plan-
ned, the streets present a grotesque appearance ot

68

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

BamJy hilloCKS and mounds, and pools of stajr-
iiant water scattered in every direction, vvitli
Bcarcely the vesti<re of a pathway to ffuide tlie
steps of tlie passenger. In winter, the traveler,
in passing along, is bespattered with mire and
dirt, and in summer, he can only (h-ag heavily
en, while his feet at every step sink into soft and
parched sand. Now, sucli is the ajjathy and in-
difference that prevail among many villagers as
to improvement in these respects, that alihougli
the contribution of a single shilling or of half a
day's labor might, in some instances, accomplish
the requisite improvements, thej'' will stand aloof
from such operations with a sullen obstinacy,
and even glory in being the means of preventing
them. Nay, such is the selfishness of many in-
dividuals, that they will not remove nuisances
even from the front of their own dwellings, be-
cause it might at the same time promote the con-
venience of the public at large. In large towns,
likewise, many narrow lanes are rendered filthy,
gloomy, and unwholesome by the avarice of
landlords, and the obstinate and boorish manners
of their tenants, and improvements prevented
which would tend to the health and comfort of
the inhabitants. But as knowledge tends to libe-
ralize the mind, to subdue the principle of selfish-
ness, and to produce a relish for cleanliness and
comfort, when it is more generally diffused, we
may expect that such improvements as those to
which I allude will be carried forward with spirit
and alacrity. There would not be the smallest
difficulty iu accomplishing every object of this
kind, and every other improvement conducive to
the pleasure and comfort of the social state, pro-
vided the majority of a community were cheer-
fully to come forward with their assistance and
contributions, however small, and to act with
concord and harmony. A whole community or
nation acting in unison, and every one contribu-
ting according to his ability, would accomplish
wonders in relation to the improvement of towns,
villages, and hamlets, and of everything that re-
gards the comfort of civil and domestic society.

In short, were knowledge generally diffused,
and art uniformly directed by the principles of
science, new and interesting plans would be form-
ed, new improvements set on foot, new comforts
enjoyed, and a new luster would appear on the
face of nature, and on the state of general socie-
ty. Numerous conveniences, decorations, and
useful establishments never yet attempted, would
coon be realized. Houses on neat and commodi-
ous plans, in airy situations, and furnished with
every requisite accommodation, would be reared
for the use of the peasant and mechanic; schools
on spacious plans for the promotion of useful
knowledge would be erected in every village and
hamlet, and in every quarter of a city where they
were found expedient; asylums would be built for
the reception of the friendless poor, whether
young or old; manufactories established for sup-
plying employment to every class of laborers and
artisans, and lecture-rooms prepared, furnished
with the requisite apparatus, to which they might
•resort for improvement in science. Roads would
be cut in all conveuient directions, diversified
with rural decorations, hedge-rows, and shady
bowers, — foot-paths, broad and smooth, would
accompany them in all their windings, and gas-
lamps, erected at every half-mile's distance, would
variegate the rural scene and cheer the shades of
night. Narrow lanes in cities would be either
widened or their houses demolished; streets on
broaa and spacious plans would be built, the
•moke of steam-engines consumed, nuisances re-

moved, and cleanliness and comfort attended to
in every arrangement. Cheerfulness and activity
would everywiiere prevail, and tlie idler, the va-
grant,and the beggar would disappear from society*
All these operations and improvements, and hun-
dreds more, could easily be accomjjlished, were
the minds of the great body of the community
th'iroii(/]dij rnli/htened and moralized, and every in-
di\idu;il, whether rich or poor, who contributed
to bring them into effect, would participate iin the
general enjoyment. And what an interesting pic-
ture would be ])resented to every benevolent mind,
to behold the great body of mankind raised from a
state of moral and physical degradation to the (dig-
nity of their rational natures, and to the enjoy-
ment of the bounties of their Creatorl — to behold
the country diversified with the neat and cleanly
dwellings of the industrious laborer, — the rural
scene, during the day, adorned with seminaries,
manuftctories, asylums, stately edifices, gardens,
fruitful fields and romantic bowers, and, during
night, bespangled in all directions with variegated
lamps, forming a counterpart, as it were, to the
lights which adorn the canopy of heaven! Such
are only a few specimens of the improvements
which art, directed by science and morality, could
easily accomplish.

SECTION VI

On the influence of knowledge l\ promoting
enlarged concepnons of the characteil and
perfections of the deity.

All the works of God speak of their Author,
in silent but emphatic language, and declare the
glory of his perfections to all the inhabitants of
the earth. But, although "there is no speech nor
language" where the voice of Deity is not heard,
how gross are the conceptions generally enter-
tained of the character of Him " iu V\?hom we live
and move," and by whose superintending provi-
dence all events are directed I Among the greater
number of pagan nations, the most absurd and
groveling notions are entertained respecting the
iSupreme Intelligence, and the nature of that
worship which his perfections demand. They
have formed the most foolish and degrading re-
presentations of this august Being, and have
"changed the glory of the incorruptible God into
an image made like to corruptible nmn, and to
four-footed beasts and creeping things." Tem-
ples have been erected and filled with idols the
most hideous and obscene; bulls and crocodiles,
dogs and serpents, goats and lions have been ex-
hibited to adumbrate the character of the Ruler
of the universe. The most cruel and unhallowed
rites have been performed to procure his favor,
and human victims sacrificed to appease his in-
dignation. All such groveling conceptions and
vile abominations have their origin in the dark-
ness which overspreads the human understanding,
and the depraved passions which ignorance has a
tendency to produce. Even in those countries
where Revelation sheds its influence, and th»
knowledge of the true God is promulgated, how
mean and contracted are the conceptions, which
the great bulk of the population entertain of the
attributes of that incomprehensible Being whose
presence pervades the immensity of space, who
"metes out the heavens with a span," a)id super-
intends the aflairs of ten thousand worlds. The
views which many have acquired of tlie perfec-
tions of the Deity, do not rise miich higher than

ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY.

09

those which wc ought to entertain of flie powers
of an arrhiiiigel, or one of tlie sera|)hiin; and
some have licen known, even in our own country,
whose couce])tions have been so aliject and gro-
veling, as to represent to themsftivcs "the King
eternal, immortal, and invisible," under the idea
of a "venerable old man." Even the more intel-
ligent class of the community fall far short of the
ideas they ought to form of the God of heaven,
owing to the limited views Ihcy have been accus-
tomed to take of the displays of liis wisdom and
benevolence, and the boundless range of his ope-
rations.

We can acquire a knowledge of the Deity only
by the visible effects he has produced, or the ex-
ternal manifestations he has given of himself to
his creatures; for the Divine Essence must remain
forever inscrutable to finite minds. These mani-
festations are made in the Revelations contained
in the Bible, and in the scene of the material uni-
Terse around us. The moral perfections of God,
such as his justice, mercy, and faithfulness, are
more particularly delineated in his word; for, of
these the system of nature can afford us only some
^ight hints and obscure intimations. His natu-
ral attributes, such as his immensity, omnipo-
tence, wisdom, and goodness, are chl<'tly display-
ed in the works of creation; and to this source of
information the inspiredwriters uniformly direct
our attention, in order that we may acquire the
most ample and impressive views of the gran-
deur of the Divinity, and the magnificence of his
operations. "Lift up your eyes on high and be-
hold! who hath created these orbs? who bringeth
forth their host by number? The everlasting
God the Lord, by the greatness of his might, for
that he is strong in power. He measureth the
ocean in the hollow of his hand, he comprehends
the dust of the earth in a measure, he weigheth
the mountains in sciles, and hath stretched out
Uie heavens by- his understanding. All nations
before him are as the drop of a bucket, and are
counted to him less than nothing, and vanity.
Thine, 0 Lord, is the greatness, and the glory,
and the majesty, for all that is in heaven and
earth is thine." The pointed interrogatories pro-
posed to Job,* and the numerous exhortations in
reference to this subject, contained in the book
of Psalms and other parts of Scrijiture, plainly
evince, that the character of God is to be con-
templated through the medium of his visible
works. In order to acquire a just and compre-
hensive conception of the perfections of Deity,
we must contemplate his character as displayed
both in the system of Revelation and in the sys-
tem of nature, otherwise we can acquire only a
Eartial and distorted view of the attributes of Je-
ovah. The Scriptures alone, without the medi-
um of his W'orks, cannot convey to us the most
sublime conceptions of the magnificence of his
empire, and his eternal power and Godhead; and
the works of nature, without the revelations of
his Tvord, leave us in profound darkness with re-
gard to the most interesting parts of his chanic-
ter — the plan of his moral government, and the
ultimate destination of man.

Would we, then, acquire the most sublime and
comprehensive views of that invisible Being, who
created the universe, and by whom all things are
upheld, we must, in the first place, apply our-
Belvcs, with profound humility and reverence, to
the study of the Sacred oracles; and, in the next
place, direct our attention to the material works
of God a!) illustrative of his Scriptural character.

* Job, ch. zxsviii, &c.

and of the declarations of his word. And, sinco
the sacred writers direct our views to tiie opera-
lions of the Almighty in the visible universe, in
vhat manner are we to contemplate these opera-
tions? Are we to view them in a careless, cur-
sory manner, or with fixed attention? Are we to
gaze on them with the vacant stare of a savage,
or with the penetrating eye of a Christian philo-
sopher? Are we to view them through the mists
of ignorance and vulgar prejudice, or through the
light which science has uiluised over the wonucrs
oi creation? There can be no difficulty to any
reflecting mind in determining which of thi'sa
modes ought to be adopted. The Scriptures de-
clare, that as " the works of Jehovah are great,"
they must be "sought out" or thoroughly investi-
gated, " by all those who have pleasure therein;"
and a threatening is denounced against every
one who " disregards the works of the Lord,"
and " neglects to consider the operations of hia
hand."

Such declarations evidently imply, that we
ought to make the visible works of God the sub-
ject of our serious study and investigation, and
exercise the rational powers he has given us for
this purpose; otherwise we cannot expect to derive
from them a true and faithful exhibition of his
character and purposes. For, as the character of
God is impressed upon his works, that character
cannot be distinctly traced unless those works be
viewed in their true ligld and actual relations — not
as they may appear to a rude and inattentive
spectator, but as they are actually found to exist,
when thoroughly examined by the light of science
and of revelation. For cxam])le, a person unac-
customed to investigate the system of nature ima-
gines thai the earth is a fixed muss of land and
water in the midst of creation, and one of the
largest bodies in nature, and, consequently, that the
sun, moon, and stars, and the whole material uni-
verse revolve around it every twenty-four hours.
Such a conception of the material system might,
indeed, convey to the mind an astonishing idea of
the power of the Deity in causing such an immense
number of orbs to revolve around our world with
so prodigious a velocity as behooved to take place,
were the earth in reality a quiescent body, in the
center of the universe. But it would give us a
most strange and distorted idea of his intelligence.
While it tended to magnify his omnipotence, it
would, in efi^ect, deprive him of the attribute of
icisdom. For, in the first place, such a conception
would represent the Almighty as having devised
a system of means altogether superfluous and pre-
posterous, in order to accomplish the end intended;
for it is tlic characteristic of wisdom to propor-
tionate the means to the nature of the design
which is to be accomplished. The design, in the
case under consideration, is to produce the alter-
nate succession of day and night. This can be
etfccted by giving the earth itself a rotation round
its axis, as is the case in other globes of much
larger dimensions. But according to the concep-
tion to which we are now adverting, the whole
material creation is considered as daily revolving
around this comparatively little globe of earth, an
idea altogether extravagant and absurd, and incon-
sistent with every notion we ought to entertain
of infinite wisdom. In the next place, were the
earth considered as at rest, the motions of the pl.-m-
cts would present a series of looped curves with^
out any marks of design, a scene of inextricable
confusion, and the whole of the solar system
would appear devoid of order and hai-mony, and,
consequently, without the marks of wisdom and
intelligence. So that when the arrangements of

70

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

nature are contenipKited llirongh tho mists of ig-
norance, they tend to obsciiro tlio glory of tho
Divinity, and to convey a distorted idea of his
character. Whereas, when tlie syslem of the uni-
rerse is confenii)lat-'d iii its true liglit, all ap-
pears arranged with the most admirable harmony,
simplicity, and order, and every mean proportion-
ate to the end it is intended to accomplish. Again,
in so far as we consider the earth as the principal
body, or among the largest bodies of the universe,
in sj far do we narrow^ our conceptions of the ex-
tent and m:;gniticcnc3 of creation, and, conse-
quently, limit our^vlews of the plans and perfec-
tions of the Creator. For our conceptions of his
attributes must, in some measure, correspond to
the views we have acquired of the amplitude and
grandeur of his em])ir(;.

Now, what is it that enables us to investigate
the works of God, and to contemplate the system
of nature in its true liyht ? It is Science combined
with observation and expcrinient. And what is
science considered in a tlieological point of view ?
It is jiothing else than a rational inquiry into the
arrangements and operations of the Almighty, in
order to trace the perfections tiiereiu displayed.
And what are the truths which science has disco-
vered ' T.'iey may be regarded as so many rays
of celestial light descending from tlie Great Source
of Intelligence to illuminate the human mind in
the knowledge of the divine character and gov-
ernment, and to stimulate it to still more vigorous
exertions in similar investigations, just as the truths
of revelation are so many emanations J'rom the
' Father of lights," to enlighten the darkness and
to counteract the disorders of the m^ral world;
and both these lights must be resorted to to direct
our inquiries, if we wish to attain the clfarest and
most comprehensive views of the attributes of the
Divine Mind. Revelation declares, in so many
distinct propositions, the character of God, and
the plans of his moral government. Science ex-
plains and illustrates many of those subjects to
which revelation refers. It removes the vail from
the works of the Creator; it dispels the mists
which ignorance and superstition have thrown
around them; it conducts us into the secret cham-
bers of nature, and discloses to us many of those
hidden springs which produce the diversified plic-
iiomeua of the material world; it throws a lig'it
on those delicate and minute objects which lie
concealed froju tho vulgar eye, and bring? wifliia
the range of our contemplation the distant glories
of the sky; it unvails the laws by v/hich the Al-
mighty directs the movements of his vast empire,
and exhibits his operations in a thousand aspects
of which tlie unenlightened mind can form no
conception. If, thiMi, science throws a light on
tlie works and wuys of God, the acquisition of
BCientitic knowledge, when properly directed, must
have a tendency to direct our conceptions and to
amplify our views of his adorable attributes, and
of iiis providential arrangements.

Here it will naturally be inquired, — what nrc
some of those views of the divine character which
scientific investigation has a tendency to ur.fold?
Our limits will not permit a fiiU and explicit an-
swer to this Inquiry, the illustration of which
would require a volume '.f no inconsiderable size,
and therefore, we shall attempt nothing more than
the st itemeni of a few gr-neral hints.

] . The phenomena of the material world, as in-
vestigated by science, evince the unity of the Di-
vine Being. There is such a harmony that pre-
vails through the whole visible universe, as plainlj'
eliows it to be under tijc government of one In-
telligence. Amidst the iiiimeuse complication

that surrounds us, we perceive one set of law*
uniformly 0])erating in accordance with which all
tilings proceed in tlieir regular courses. The s;une
causes unifdrmly [)roduce the same clfocts in every
region of tho world, and in every period of time.
" Vegetables spring from the .same seed, geiminate
by tlie same moans, assume the same form, sus-
tain the same qualities, exist through tlie same
duration, and come to the same end." Animals,
too, of the same species, are brought into exist-
ence in tho same manner, exhibit the same life
and vital functions, display the same active powers
and instinct, and hasten to the same dissolution.
Man lias one origin, one general form, the same
corporeal structure, the same vital functions, the
same system of intellectual faculties, and cornea
to the same termination. All the elements around
liim, and every arrangement in this sublunary
sphere, are made, in one regular manner, sub-
servient to his sensitive enjoyment, and are evi-
dently fitted, by one design, and directed by one
agency, to promote his happiness. The connec-
tion and harmony which subsist between the ani-
mal and vegetable kingdoms, plainly evince that
one and the same Being is the former of both, and
that in his contrivances witli respect to tlie one,
he had in view the necessities of the other. We
know, that difierent sorts of plants, herbs, and
flowers are appointe>i for food to the several tribes
of animals. That v/hich is hurtful to one species
is salutary to another. One creature climbs the
highest rocks for lierbs, another digs in the earth
fcr roots, and we scarcely know a plant or leaf but
what alTords nourishment, and a place of nativity
to some species or other of the insect tribes.
This is the foundation of innumerable relations
and connections between these two departments of
creation, which show the work to he oiie, and the
result of the same Poiver and IidcUigence. In like
manner, day and night uniformly return with the
utmosf regularity, and by t!ie operation of the
same cause, and with the same regularity and har-
mony the seasons revolve and appear in constant
succession. The composiiion of the atmosphere
is the sam.e under every latitude, and light and
heat are dilFused by the same law in every regi'^a
of the earth. One law causes a stone to fuil to
the ground, and by the operation of the same law,
the moon is retained in her orbit around the earth,
the planets directed in their revolutions round the
sun, and the whole universe compacted into one
harmonious system. In short, all the arrange-
ments and operations of nature, so far as our
knov/ledge extends, present to our view a single
design, regularly executed by a single agency.
The fair inference, therefore, is, that every part of
the world in which we dv.-ell, and every depart-
ment of tlie solar system, are under the govern-
ment of ov.e Intelligence, wliicii directs every move-
ment tiiroughout the universal system. And the
more extensively our views of the universe are
enlarged, the marks of unity in operation nnd do-
sign become more strikingly apparent. Now, if
two or more intelligences had the government of
the universe in tlieir liands, and if they had equal
power and contrary designs, tlieir purposes would
clash, and they could never become the parents of
that harmony which we clearly perceive through-
out the system of nature. Tlius the operations
of the visible world confirm and illustrate the
dcclarntion of the iiisjdred oracles, that "there U
none other God but one."

2. A scientific investigation of the material
world opens to us innumerable evidences of Di-
zir? Wisdom.

Wherever we turn our eyes in the visible world

WISDOM OF THE DEITY.

71

uound us, and survey with attention the various
procr.sses of nature, we perceive at every step tlie
most striking marks of intelligenae aiui design.
We perceive the wisdom of the great Author of
nature, in tlie admirable constitulian of the atnio-
ephere, and the wonderful properties of liie con-
stituent piiiiciples of vvl;icli it is composed, — in
thu motions of ii(/ht, the incouccivabie sniallness
of its particles, its adaptation to the eye, and the
admirable manner in which vision is performed, —
iu the nature of sound, the laws by which it is
prcpagatcvl, and the various modifications of which
it is susceptible, — in the process of evaporation,
and the rains, dews, and fertility which are the
results of tliis admirable part of the economy of
nature, — in the utility of the mountains and val-
leys with wliicli the earth is diversified, and the
beautiful coloring which is spread over the face of
nature, — in the morning and evening twilight, and
the gradual approaches of light and darkness, —
in the vast expanse of the ocean and its numerous
productions, — in the grand, and picturesque, and
beautiful landscapes with whicli our globe is
adorned, — in the composition and specific gravity
of water, and in the peculiar structure and density
of the solid parts of the earth, — in the expansion
of water in the act of freezing, and the nature
and properties of heat and flame, — in the power
of steam, the properties of the gases, the qualities
of the niijgnet, and the agencies of the galvanic
and electric fluids, — in the structure oi ver/eiables,
tlie adaptation of their seeds, roots, fibers, vessels,
and leaves to the purpose of vegetative life, — the
curious processes which are continually going on
iu their internal parts, their delicate contexture
and diversified hues, and the important purposes
they serve in the system of nature, — in the struc-
ture of the various animated beings which traverse
the air, the waters, and the earth, — the provision
made for the continuance of the species, their
architective faculties, their wonderful instincts,
and the injiiiite diversity of organ izatinn v/hich ap-
pears among them, suited to their various u'ants
and modes of existence, — in the admirable organi-
zation of the human frame, the numerous bones,
muscles, ligaments, membi'anes, arteries, and veins
which enter into its construction, the apt disposi-
tion of all its parts, the means contrived for the
reception and uiatribution of nutriment, the effect
which this nutriment produces in hringing the
body to its full growth and expatision, — its self-
restoring power when di:-eased or wounded, the
provision made against evil accidents and incon-
veniences, the variety of muscular movements of
which it is susceptible, the process of respiration,
tlie circulation of the blood, the sepnration of the
chyle, the exquisite structure of the dilTerent senses,
and the nice adaptation of every organ and move-
ment to the eiids it was intended to subserve.
The same wisdom is perceptible in the position
which the sun holds in the solar system, in order
to a due distribution of light and heat to surround-
ing wiirlds; in the distance at which the earth is
placed from tiiia luminary,— in the order and har-
mony of all the celestial motions, and in the won-
derful an<i beautiful scenery, invisible to the un-
assisted eye, which the microscope displays, both
in the animal and vegetable world. In short,
there is not an object within us or around us, in
tlie mountains or the plains, in the air, the ocean,
or the sky, — among the animal or the vegetable
tribes, when steadily contemplated iu all its as-
pects and relations, but displays to the eye of rea-
son and devotion the consummate intelligence and
skill of i!s almighty Author, andc^dls U])on every
luteliigciit agent, in silent but emphatic language,

to praise him "v»dio made tI;o earth, the sea, the
fountains of water, and all that live in them, for
whose pleasure they are and were created."

Let us juat select one example out of the many
thousands whicli might bo brought forward on
this subject. This example shall be taken from
an invisible dcpartin^'nt of nature. In conse-
quence of modern scientific discovery, it has been
ascertained that the atmospiiere, or the air wo
breathe, is compounded of two invisible sub-
stances, termed oxygen gas and nitrogen gas. Oxy •
gen, as formerly stated, is the principle of vita-
lity and combustion, nitrogen is destructive both
to flame and animal life. Were we to breathe
oxjgen by itself, it would cause our blood to cir-
culate with greater rapidity, but it would soon
waste and destroy the human frame by the rapid
accumulation of heat. Wej^e the nitrogen to be
extracted from the atmosphere, and the oxygen
left to exert its native energies, it would melt the
hardest substances and set the earth on flames.
If the oxygen were extracted and the nitrogen
only remained, every species of fire and flame
would be extinguished,- and all the tribes of ani-
mated nature instantly destroyed. The proportion
of these two gases to each other is nearly as one
to four. Were this proportion materially altered,
a fluid might be produced which would cause a
burning pain and instantaneous suffocation. The
specific gravity of these two substances is nearly
as 37 to 33, that is, the nitrogen is a small degree
lighter than the oxygen. Were this proportion
reversed, or, in other words, were the oxygen of
the atmosphere a small degree lighter than the
nitrogen, so that the nitrogen might become a lit-
tle heavier than common air, — as this gas is
thrown off continually by the breathing of men
and other animals, it would perpetually occupy
the lower regions of the atmosphere, and be pro-
ductive of universal pestilence and death. Again,
oxygen gas is separated from the nitrogen in the
lungs; it is absorbed by the blood, and gives it its
red color, and is the source of animal heat
throughout the whole system. It forms the basis
of all the acids; it pervades the substance of. the
vegetable tribes, and enables them to perform
their functions, and it forms a constituent part of
the water which fills our rivers, seas, and oceans.
And as the atmosphere is daily liable to be de-
prived of this fluid by combustion, respiration,
and other processes, the leaves of trees and other
vegetables give out a large portion of it during
the day, which, uniting with the nitrogen gas
thrown off by the breathing of animals, keeps up
the equilibrium, and preserves the salubrity of the
air in which we move and breathe.

These facts d.mionstrate the infinite knowledge
and the consummate tcisdom of the Contriver of
the universe,^in the exquisitely nice adjustmentof
every minute circumstance, so as to pieserve the
balance of nature and secure the happine^-s of his
sensitive and intelligent offspring. What an all-
comprehensive intelligence does it indicate in the
Divine Mind, to cause one single principle in dif-
ferent combinations to produce so inmiense a va-
riety of im])ortant effects! What dreadful havoc
would be produced throughout the whole of our
sublunary system, if a substance like oxygen gas,
which peiTades every part of nature, were not
■nicely balanced and proportioned. All nature
might soon be thrown into confusion, and all the
tribes of the living world cither be reduced
to misery, or swept into the tomb. A material
difforence in the proportion of the two airs which
compose the atmosphere, might be productive of
the most dreadful and destructive effects. One of

r2

OiN THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

the mnst corrosive acids, aquafortis, is composed
of "/a parts oxygon and 25 purts nitrogen. \Vere
this the proportion of these fluids in the atmo-
sphere, every hroath \vc drew would produce the
most excruciating pain, and, after two or three
inspirations, the vital powers would he overcome,
aiid life extinguished. Hero then we perceive an
admirable ailjustimnt oj'mcaits to ends, and an evi-

which pressure the clastic fluids in the finer ves-
sels would inevitahly burst them, and the spark
of life be quickly exlingiiislied. Tliousands of
examples of this description, illustrative of divine
benevolence, might be selected from every pir
of the material system connected with our world,
all of which would demonstrate that the commu-
nication of enjoyment is the great end of all tlia

tlio consequence^ which can foWow , the gratiji cation afforded to our different senses. As

the eye is constructed of the most delicate sub-
stances, and is one of the most admirable pieces
of mechanism connected with our frame, so the

tlie same time of benevolent intention, than these mus-
cles, which are ailmirably adapted to move the hull of the
eye in every clireL-tion, upward, downward, to the right
hand, to the left, an<l in whatever direction we please, so a»
to preserve that parallelism of the eye which is necessary to
distinct vision. In fig. 1, is exhibited the eye-bali w::h iu

Fix. 1

dence of tliat coinitrehensive knowledge which j contrivances of infinite wisdom
penetrates into the energies of ail substances, and ' There is a striking display of benevolence ia
foresees

from the principles and laws of nature, in every
combination and in every mode of their opera-
tion. Tills is only one instance out of a thousand
which the researches of science afford us of the
admirable economy of the wisdom of God. From
ignorance of such facts, the bulk of mankind are
incapable of appreciating the blessings they enjoy,
under the arrangements of infinite wisdom, and
unqualified for rendering a grateful homage to
Him " in whom they live and move, and have
their being.'*

3. The contemplation of nature through the
medium of science, affords innumerable displays
of the benevolence of the Deity. Benevolence, or
goodness, is that perfection of God which leads
him, in all his arrangements, to communicate
happiness to every order of his creatures. This
attribute, though frequently overlooked, is so ex-
tensively displayed throughout the scene of crea-
tion, that we feel at a loss to determine from what
quarter we should select instances for its illustra-
tion. Wherever we find evidences of wisdom and
design, we also find instances of benevolence; for
all the admirable contrivances we perceive in the
system of nature, have it as their ultimate end to
convey pleasure, in one shape or another, to sen-
sitive beings. If there are more than 240 bones
in the human body variously articulated, and
more than 440 muscles of different forms and
contextures, such a structure is intended to pro-
duce a thousand modifications of motion in the
several members of which it is composed, and to
facilitate every operation we have occasion to per-
form. If the ear is formed with an external
porch, a hammer, an anvil, a tympanum, a stir-
rup, and a labyrinth, this apparatus is intended to
convey pleasure to the soul by communicating to
it all the modifications of sound. If the eye is
composed of three coats, some of them opaque
and some transparent, with three humors of dif-
ferent forms and refractive powers, and a numer-
ous assemblage of minute veins, arteries, muscles,
nerves, glands, and lymphatics, it is in order that
theimagos of objects may be accurately depicted
on the retina, that the ball of t!ie eye may be
easily turned in every direction, and that we may
enjoy all the entertainments of vision.* If an at-
mosphere is thrown around the earth, it is for the
purpose of attempering the rays of the sun, giv-
ing a lucid brightness to every part of the hea-
Tens, producing the morning and evening twi-
light, promoting evaporation and the respiration
of animals, and causing the earth to bring forth
abundance of food, by means of the rains and
dews; all which effects produce happiness in a
thousand different ways to every sentient being.
If this atmosphere presses our bodies with a
weight of thirty thousand pounds, it is in order
to counterpoise the internal pressure of the circu-
lating fluids, and to preserve the vessels and ani-
mal functions in due tone and vigor, without

• As an evidence of the care of the Creator to promote
onr enjoyment, the following instance may be selected in
regard to the muscle/! of the eye. Nothing can be more
manifestlv an evidence of contrivance and design, and at

muscles; a, is the optic nerve; 6, musculus ti;or>i„eart#,
which turns the pupil downward, and outward, and ena-
bles the ball of the eye to roll about at pleasure; c, is part of
the OS frohtis, to whieh the trochlea or pulley is fixed, through
which d, the tendon of the trochlearis, passes; e, is the at-
tolcns oculi, foi- raising up the globe of the eye; «, the depress
sor oculi, for pulling the globe of the eye down; /, adiuetOT
oculi, for turning the eye toward the nose;g^, abductor oculi,
for moving the globe of the eye outward to the right or left;
h, obliquus inferior, for drawing the globe of the eye for-
ward, inward, and downward; i, part of the superior max-
illary bone, to which it is fixed; k, the eyeball. Fig. 2,
Fig. 2.

represents the same muscles in a diffl'rent point of vie"*,
where the same letters refer to the same muscles.

All these opposite and nntnjnnist niU'^r'es preserve a
nice equilibrium, which is eftected partly by their ecjoal-
ity of strength, partly by their peculiar orijin, ami partly by
the natural jiosture of the body and the eye, by which means
the eye can be turned instantaneously toward any object,
preser\'ed in perfect steadiness, and prevented from rolling
about in hideous contortions. This is only onr oulofa hun-
dred instances in relation to the eye, in which tl.« tam*
benevolent design is displayed.

BENEVOLENCE OF THE DEITY.

74

Creator has arranged the world in such a manner
U to afford it the most varied and (icliglitful gra-
tification. By means of tlie solar liglit, whicli is
•xaclly adapted to tlie structure of this organ,
Ihousand^ of objects of diversified beauty and
•ublimity are presented to the view. It opens he-
fore us the mountains, the vales, the woods, the
lawi's, the brooks and rivers, the fertile plains and
flowery fields, adorned witli every hue, — the ex-
panse of the ocean and the glories of the firma-
ment. And as the eye would bo dazzled, were a
deep red color or a brilliant ichite to be spread over
the face of nature, the divine goodness has clothed
the heavens with blue and the earth with green,
the two colors which are the least fatiguing and
the most pleasing to the organs of siglit, and at
the same time one of these colors is diversified by
a thousand delicate shades which produce a de-
lightful variety upon the landscape of the world.
The ear is curiously constructed for the percep-
tion of sounds, which the atmosphere is fitted to
convey; and what a variety of pleasing sensations
are produced by the objects of external nature in-
tended to affect this organ! The murmurings of
the brooks, the whispers of the gentle breeze, the
hum of bees, the chirping of birds, the lowing of
the herds, the melody of the feathered songsters,
the roarings of a stormy ocean, the dashings of a
mighty cataract, and, above all, the numerous mo-
dulations of the human voice and the harmonies
of music, produce a variety of delightful emotions
which increase the sum of human enjoyment.
To gratify the sense of smelling, the air is per-
fumed with a variety of delicious odors, exhaled
from innumerable plants and flowers. To gratify
the feeling, pleasing sensations of various descrip-
tions are connected with almost everything we
have occasion to touch; and to gratify the sense
of taste, the earth is covered with an admirable
profusion of plaiij;s, herbs, roots, and delicious
fruits of tiiousands of different qualities and fla-
vors, calculated to convey an agreeable relish to
the inhabitants of every clime. Now, it is easy to
conceive, tliat these gratifications were not neces-
sary to our existence. The purposes of vision, as
a. mere animal sensation for the use of self-pre-
servation, might have been answered, although
every trace of beauty and sublimity had been
swept from the universe, and nothing but a vast
assemblage of dismal and haggard objects had ap-
peared on the face of nature. The purpose of
hearing might have been effected although every
sound had been grating and discordant, and the
voice of melody forever unknown. We might
have had smell without fragrance or perfume;
taste without variety of flavor; and feeling, not
only without the least pleasing sensation, but ac-
companied witii incessant pain. But, in this case,
the system of nature would have afforded no di-
rect proofs, as it now does, of divine benevolence.
The remedies xchich the Deity has provided against
the evils to which toe are exposed, are likewise a
proof of his benevolence. Medicines are provided
for the cure of the diseases to which we are liable;
heat is furnished to deliver us from the effects of
cold; rest, from the fatigues of labor; sleep, from
the languors of watching; artificial light, to pre-
serve us from the gloom of absolute dark!iess; and
■hade, from the injuries of scorching heat. Good-
ness is also displayed in the power of self-restora-
Hon which our bodies possess, in recovering us
from sickness and disease, in healing wounds and
bruises, and in recovering our decayed organs of
sensation, without which power almost evf^ry
human beii.g would present a picture of deform-
ity, and a body full of scars and putrefying sores.

The pupil of the eye is so constructed, that it ia
capable of contracting and dilating by a sort of
instinctive power. By this means the organ of
vision defends itself from the blindness which
might ensue from the admission of too great a
quantity of light; while, on the other hand, its
capacity of expansion, so as to take in a greater
quantity of rays, prevents us from being in aliso-
lute darkness even in the deepest gloom, without
which we could scarcely take a step witti sul'dy
during a cloudy night. Again, in the construc-
tion of the human body, and of the various trdjca
of animated beings, however numerous and com-
plicated their organs, there is no instance can be
produced that any one muscle, nerve, joint, limb,
or other part, is contrived for the purpose of pro-
ducing pain. When pain is felt, it is uniforiidy
owing to some derangement of the corporeal
organs, but is never the necessary result of the
original contrivance. On the other hand, every
part of the construction of living beings, every
organ and function, and every contrivance, how-
ever delicate and minute, in so far as its use is
known, is found to contribute to the enjoyment
of the individual to which it belongs, either by fa-
cilitating its movements, by enabling it to ward
off dangers, or in some way or another to produce
agreeable sensations.

In short, the immense multitude of human beings
which people tlie earth, and the ample provision ivhich
is made for tlwir necessities, furnish irresistible evi-
dence of divine goodness. It has been ascertained,
that more than sixty thousand species of animals
inhabit the air, the earth, and the waters, beside
many tiiousands which have not yet come within
the observation of the naturalist. On the surface
of the earth there is not a patch of ground or a
portion of water, a single shrub, tree, or herb, and
scarcely a single leaf in the forest, but what teems
with aaiimated beings. How many hundreds of
millions have their dwellings in caves, in the
clefts of rocks, in the bark of trees, in ditches, in
marshes, in the forests, the mountains and the
valleys! What innumerable shoals of fishes in-
habit the ocean and sport in the seas and rivers!
What millions on millions of birds and flying in-
sects, in endless variety, wing their flight through
the atmosphere above and around us! Were we
to suppose that each species, at an average, con-
tains four hundred millions of individuals, there
would be 24,000,000.000,000, or 24 billions of liv-
ing creatures belonging to all the known species
which inhabit the different regions of the world,
beside the multitudes of unknown species yet
undiscovered, — which is thirty tht^nsand times the
number of all the human beings that people the
globe.* Beside these, there are multitudes of

* As an instance of the immense number of animated be-
ings, the followinsf facts in relation to two species of liirds
may be statcil. Captain Flinileis, in liis voyage to Austra-
lasia, saw a compact stream of stormy petrels, wliich was
from 50 to 80 yards deep and HOG yards or more broad. This
stream for a full hour and a half continued to pass witbont
interruption with nearly the swiftness of the pigeon. Now,
takins; the column at 50 yards deep by 300 in brea<lth, and
that it moved 30 miles an hour, and allowing nine cubic
inches of sjjace to each bird, the number would amount to
151 millions and a half. The migratory pigeon of the T'ni-
ted States Hies in still more amazing multitudes. Wilson,
in his "American Ornithology," says, " Of one of these
immense flocks, let us attempt to calculate the numbers, as
f^een in passing between Frankfort on the Kentucky and the
Indian territory. If we suppose this column to have been
one mile in breadth, and I believe it to have been much
more, am! that it moved tour hours at the rale of one mile a
minute, the time it continued in passing woulil make the
whole length 240 miles. Again, supposing that eacli sijuare
yard of this moving body comprehended three pigeons, the
square yards multiplied by 3 would give 2,ioO,272>Cl;0," that

74

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

animated beings wliich no man can number, invisi-
ble to the unassisted eye, and dispersed tlirough
every region of llie earth, air, and seas. In a
small stiguant pool which in summer app?ars
covered with a green scum, there are more micro-
scopic animalcules than wouhl outnumber all the
intx;<.bilants of the earth. How immense, then,
must be the collective number of these creatures
throughout every region of the earth and atmo-
sphere: It surpasses all our conceptions. Now,
it is a fact that, from the elephant to the mite,
from the whale to the oyster, and from the eagle
to the gnat, or the microscopic animaicula, no an-
imal can subsist without nourishment. Every
species, too, requires a difFereut kind of food.
Some live on grass, some on shrubs, some on
flowers, and some on trees. Some feed only on
the roots of vegetables, some on the stalks, some
on the leaves, some on the fruit, some on the seed,
some on the whole plant; some prefer one species
of grass, some another. Linnffius has remarked,
that the cow eats 276 species of plants and rejects
218; the goat eats 449 and rejects 126; the sheep
eats 387 and rejects 141 ; the horse eats 262 and
rejects 212; and the hog, more nice in its taste than
any of these, eats but 72 plants and rejects all the
rest. Yet such is the unbounded munificence of
the Creator, that all th.'se countffiss myriads of
sentient beings are amply provided for and nour-
ished by his bounty! " The eyes of all these look
unto Him, and he openi'th his hand and satisfielh
the desire of every living being." He has so ar-
ranged the world, that every place affords the pro-
per food for all the living creatures with which it
abounds. Ho has furnished them with every or-
gan and apparatus of instruments for the gather-
ing, preparing, and digesting of their food, and
has endowed them with admirable sagacity in
finding out and providing their nourishment, and
in enabling them to distinguish between what is
salutaiy and what is pernicious. In the exercise
of these faculties, and in all their movements,
they appear to experience a happiness suitable to
their nature". The young of all animals in the
exercise of their newly acquired faculties, the
fishes sporting in ths wafers, the birds skimming
beneath the sky and warbling in the thickets, the
gamesome cattle browsing in tiie pastures, the
wild deer bounding through the forests, the insects
gliding tlirough the air and along the ground, and

is, two thousand two hundred and thirty millions and two
hundred v.nd seventy-two thousand, nearly three times the
number of :ill ihe human inhabitants of the globe, bnt which
Mr. Wilson reclions to be far below the actual amount.
Were we to estimafe the number of animals by the scale
here afforded, it would amount to several hundreds or thou-
sands of times more than what I have stated in the text.
For if a single flock of pigeons now alluded to in only one
district of the earth, amounts to so prodigious a number,
how many thousand times more must be the amount of the
same species in all the regions of the globe ! In the above
calculations, it is taken for granted that pigeons fly at the
rate of from ^iO to CO miles an hour, and it is found by actual
experiment that this is the case. In 18: 0, ]]() pigeons were
brought from Krnssels to London, and were let fly on the
19th July, at a quarter before nine, A. .M. One reached
Antwerp, !r() miles distance, at 18 minutes past 2, or in 't}i
hours, being at the rate of 34 miles an hour. Five more
reached the same place within eight minutes afterward, and
thirteen others in the course of eight hours after leaving
London. Another went from Lonlon to M.-.e^tricht, 2(i0
miles, in six hours and a quarter, being at the rate of nearly
42 miles an hour. The golden eagle sweeps through the at-
mosphere at the rate of 40 miles an hour, and it has been
eoic-^uted that the Swift flies, at an avernge, .500 miles a
dav, and yet finds time to feed, to clean itself, and to collect
materials for its nest with apparent leisure. Such are the
nnmbers of this species of animatejj beings, and such th^
powers of rapid motion which the Creator has conferred
ii]M>n them, — powers which man, with all his intellectual
faculties and inventions, has never yet been able to attain.

even the earth-worms wriggling in the dust, — j)ro-
ciaiin, by the vivacitj' of their movements and
the various tones and gesticulations, that the exer-
cise of their powers is connected with eiijni/ineni-.
In this boundless scene of beneficence, we behold
a striking illustration of the declarations of the
inspired writers, that "the Lord is good to all,"— •
that " the earth is full of his riches," and th&t
" his tender mercies are over all bis works."

Such are a few evidences of the benevolence
of the Di-ity as displayed in the arrangements of
the material world. However plain and obvious
they may appear to a reflecting mind, th(>y are >
almost entirely overlooked by the bulk of man-
kind, owing to their ignorance of the facts of na-
tural Itistory and science, and tlie consequent in-
attention and apathy with which they are accus-
tomed to view the objects of the visible creation.
Hence they are incapacitated for appreciating the
beneficent character of the Creator, and the liches
of his mtinificence; and incapable of feeling those
emotions of admiration and gratitude wliich aii
enlightened contemplation of the scene of nature
is calculated to inspire.

4. An enlightened and comprehensive survey
of the universe presents to us a mew of the vast
multiplicity of conceptions and the infinitely dimrsi-
fied ideas which have been formed in the Divine
'Mind.

As tlie conceptions existing in the mind of an
artificer are known by the instruments he con-
structs, or the operations he performs, so tlie ideas
which have existed from eternity in the mind of
the Creator are ascertained from the objects he
has created, the events he has produced, tuid the
operations he is incessantly conducting. The foi'»
mation of a single object is an exhibition 3f the
idea existing in the Creating Mind, of which it la
a copy. The formation of a second or a thinl
object exactly resetnbling the first, would barely
exhibit the same ideas a second or a third time,
without disclosing anything new concerning the
Creator; and, consequently, our conceptions of
his intelligence would not be enlarged, even al-
though thousands and millions of such objects
were presented to otir view, — ;just as a hundred
clocks and watches, exactly of the same kind, con-
structed by the same artist, give us no higher
idea of his skill and ingenuity than the construc-
tion of one. But, every variety in objects and ar-
rangements exhibits a new discovery of the plans,
contrivances and intelligence of the Creator.

Now, in the universe we find all things con-
structed and arranged on the plan of houndles$
and unicersal variiiy. In the animal kingdom
there have been actually ascertained, as already
noticed, about sixty thousand different species o'
living creatures. There are about 60;) species
of mainmnlia, or animals that suckle their young,
most of which are quadrupeds — 4900 species of
birds, .'3000 species of fishes, 700 species of rep'
tiles, and 44,000 species of insects. * lleside
these, there are about 3000 species of shcll-Jish,
and perhaps not less than eighty or a hundred
thousand species of animalcules invisible to the
naked eye; and nevv^ species are daily discover-
ing, in consequence of the zeal and industry of
the lovers of natural history. As the system of
animated nature has never yet been thoroughly
explored, we might safely reckon the number of
species of animals of all kinds, as ainounting to
at least three hundred tliausand. We are iiext

* Specimens of all tlu- e species are to he seen ! i the mag'
nificent collections in the Museum of Natnra. History a/
Paris.

VARIETY OF ANIMAL FUNCTIONS.

75

to consider, tliat the orgaiiical structure of each
species consists of an immense multitude of
parts, and that all the species are infinitely diver-
fsified — dili'fring from eacli other in their forms,
organs, members, faculties and motions. — Tliey
are of all Siiapes and .^izes, from the microscopic
aKimalculum, ten thousand ti;nes less than a
mite, to the elephant and the wliale. — They uro
diiFeren*: in respect of the construction of their
•ensi'ivo organs. In regard to tiie eye, some have
this orgitn placed in the front, so as to look
directly forward, as in man ; others have it so
placed, as to take in nearly a whole hemispliere,
as in birds, liares and conies ; some have it fi.xed,
and others, movable ; some have two globes or
bails, as quadrupeds; some have jour, as snails,
which are fixed in their horns ; some have eiy/ti,
set like a locket of diamonds, as spiders ; some
have several hundreds, as tiies and beetlL-s, and
others above twenty iliousand, as tlie dragon-fly
and several species of butterflies. In regard to
the ear, — some have it large, erect and open, as
in the hare, to hear the least approach of danger ;
in some it is covered to keep out noxious bodies ;
and, in others, as in the mole, it is lodged deep
and backward in the head, and fenced and giiard-
ed from external injuries. With regard to their
eUttking, — some have their bguies covered with
hair, as quadrupeds ; some with feathers, as birds ;
some with scales, as fishes ; some with shells, as
the tortoise ; some only with skin ; some with
stout and firm armor, as the riiinoceros ; and
others witii prickles, as the hedgehog and porcu-
pine— all nicelj' accommodated to the nature of
the animal, aiid the element in which it lives.
These coverings, too, are adorned with diversifed
beauties, as appears in the plumage of birds, the
feathers of the peacock, the scales of the finny
tribes, the hair of quadrupeds, and the variegated
polish and coloring of the tropical shell-fish —
beauties which, in point of symmetry, polish,
texture, variety, and exquisite coloring, mock
every attempt of human art to copy or to imitate.
In regard to respiration — some breathe through
the mouth by means of lungs, as men and qua-
drupeds ; some by means of gills, as fishes ; and
some by organs placed in other parts of their
boaies, as insects. In regard to the circulatujn
of the blond, some have but one ventricle iu the
heart, some two, and others three. In some
animals, the heart throws its blood to the re-
motest parts of the system ; in some it throws
it only into the respiratory organs ; in others,
the bloo'l from the respiratory orgaiis is carried
by the veins to another heart, and this second
heart distributes the blood, by the channel of its
arteries, to the several parts. In many insects,
a number of hearts are placed at intervals on the
circulating course, and each renews the impulse
of the former, where the momentum of the blood
fails. In regard to the movements of their bodies, —
some are endowed with swift motions, and others
with s!ov/ ; some walk, on two legs, as fowls;
some on four, as dogs ; some on eight, as cater-
pillars ; some on a hundred, as scolopendrie or
millei)edes ; some on fifteen hundred and twenty
feet, as one species of sea-star; and some on two
thousand feet, as a certain species of echinus.*
Some glide along with a sinuous motion on scales,
as snakes and serpents ; some skim through the
air, one sjiecies on two wings, another on four ;
and some convey themselves with speed and

* See Lyonct's notes to hesiei's ■ hisecto Thcolozy, who
also lURniions that these Echini have i:-l,0 horn^, similar to
tho33 ol' snails, which they can put out and draw in at jileu-
tcre.

safety by tlie help of their webs, as spiders ; while
others glide with agility through the waters by
means of their tails anU fins. — Jjut it would re-
quire volumes to enumerate and exj)lain all the
known varieties which distinguish the dili'erent
species of animated beings Beside the varieties
of the Sj)ecies, there are not, perhaps, of all the hun-
dreds of tDillioiis which compose any one sni-cies,
two inuividuals precisely alike in every poii.t of
view in which they may be contemplatml.

As an example of the numerous parts and
functions which enter into the construction of
an animal frame, it may be stated, tb .t, in the
human body there are 4-15 bones, each of them
liaviiig /r>rtj/ distinct scopes or intentions; and
24G muscles, each having ten several intentions;
so that the system of bones and muscles alone
includes above 14,200 varieties, or citreient iaten-
tions and adaptations. But, beside the bones and
muscles, there are hundreds of tendons and liga-
ments for the purpose of connecting tii>-m toge-
ther ; hundreds of nei'ves ramified over the whole
body to convey sensation to aU its parts ; thou-
sands of arteries to convey the blood to tlie re-
motest extremities, and thousands of veins to bring
it back to the heart ; thousands of lactml and
lymphalic vessels to absorb nutriment from the
Ibod ; thousands oi glands to secrete humors from
the blood, and of emunctorie.s to throw them off
from the system — and, beside many other parts
of this variegated system, and functions with
which we are uriacquainted, there are. more than
sixteen hundred r,iilUons of membranous cells or
vesicles connected with the lungs, more than two
hundred thousand millions of pores in the skin,
tlirough which the perspiration is incessantly
flowing, and above a thousand ?niUions of scales,
which, according to Leeuwenhoek, Eaker, and
others, compose the cuticle or outward covering
of the body. We have also to take into the ac-
count, the compound organs of life, the numerous
parts of which they consist, and the diversified
functions they perform ; such as the Itrain. with
its infinite number of fibers and numerous func-
tions; the heart, v/iih its auricles ana ventricles ;
tlie stomach, with its juices and muscular coats;
the liver, with its lobes and glands ; the sj'leen,
with its infinity of cells and membranes; the
pancreas, with its juice and numerous glands ;
the hidneys, with their fine capillary tubes ; the
intestines, with all their turnings and convolu-
tions ; the cr ;ans of sense, witli their mnllif irious
connections; the mesentery, the gall-bla^lder, the
ureters, the pylorus, the duodenum, the blood,
the bile, the lymph, the saliva, the chyle, the
hairs, the ntils, and numerous other parts and
substances, every one of which has diversified
functions to perform. We have also to take into
consideration the number of ^deas includid in the
arrangement and connection of all these parts, and
iu the manner in which they are compacted into
one system of small dimensions, so as to afford
free scope for all'the intended functions. If, then,
for the sake of a rude calculation, we were to
suppose, in addition to the 14,200 adaptations
stated above, that there are 10,000 veins great
and small, 10,000 arteries, 10,000 nerves,* 1000
ligaments, 4000 lactcals and lympliatics, 100,000

• The amnzinsT extent of the romificationof ll;e veins and
nerves may be judpred of from tliis circumstance, that neither
the point of the snuillest needle, nor tlie infinitely finer lance
of a gnat can pierce any part wilhoiU drawin" bUioi!, and
causing an une^jfy sensation, conseqiiently without wound<
iii|r, by so small a ptvnctnre, both a nerve and a vein ; and
thereliire the number of these vessels here ajsunied leuy b«
considered as far below the truth.

76

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

glands, 1,600,000,000 vesicles in the lungs, 1,000,-
000,000 scales, and '2i)0,()0(),000,000 of pores, the
amount would be 2'J2,G\)0,M9,2llO cillt-rcnt parts
and adaptations in the iiujnan body ; and if all
tlie other species were supposed to be liilierentiy
organized, and to consist of a similar number of
parts, tliis number multiplied by ;iOU,U0l), the
supposed nund)er of species — the product would
amount to G(I,7S0,U44,7G0,000,000, or above sixty
thousanil billions,' — the number of distinct ideas,
conceptions or contrivances, in relation to the
animal w )iiil — a number of which w^ can have
no precise conception, and vvhicli, to limited
minds like ours, seems to approximate to some-
thing like infinity; but it may tend to convey a
rude idea of the endless multiplicity of concep-
tions which pervade the Eternal Mind.

That many other tribes of animated nature
have an organization no loss complicated and
diversified than that of man, will appear from the
following sliitements of M. Lyonct. This cele-
brated naturalist wrote a treatise on one single
insect, the cosstis caterpillar, which lives on the
leaves of the willow, — in which he has shown,
from the anatomy of, that minute animal, that its
structure is almost as complicated as that of the
human body, and many of the parts which enter
into its organization even more numerous. He
has found it necessary to employ twenty figures
to explain the organization of the head, which
contain 228 dilferent muscles. There are 1647
muscles in the body, and 2366 in the intestinal
tube, making in all .'i941 muscles; or nearlj^ nine
times the number of muscles in the human boay.
There are 94 principal nerves which divide into
innumerable ramifications. There are two large
tracheal arteries, one at the right, and the other
at the left si ]e of the insect, each of them com-
municating with the air by means of nine sj)ira-
cula. Round each spiraculum the trachea puslies
forth a great number of branches, which are again
divided' into smaller ones, and these further sub-
diviied and spread through ihe whole body of the
caterpillar ; they are naturally of a silver color,
and make a beautiful appearance. The principal
trach.eal vessels divide into l.'!26 different branches.
All this complication of delicate macliinery, with
numerous other parts and organs, are compressed
into a bodj- only about two inches in length.

Were we to direct our attention to the vegeta-
ble kingdom, we might contemplate a scene no
less rarb'guted and astonisiiing than what appears
in the animal world. There have already been
discovered more than ff'y-fiix thousand species of
plants, specimens of all which ma)' be seen in the
Museum of Natural History at Paris. But we
cannot reckon the actu d number of species in
the earth and seas at less than four or five hun-
dred thousand. They are of all sizes, from the
invisible forests which are seen in a piece of mol-
diness, by th.» help of the microscope, to tlie
cocoas of Malabar fifty feet in circumference,
and tiie banians, whose shoots cover a circumfer-
ence of five acres of ground. Each of them is
furnished with a complicate 1 system of vessels
for the circulation of its juices, the secretion of
its odors, and other important functions some-
wh.it analogous to those of animals. Almost
every vegetable consists of a root, trunk, branch-
es, leaves, skin, bark, pith, sap-vessels, or system
of artery and veins, glan Is for perspiration, flow-
ers, petals, stamina, farina, 'seed-case, seed, fruit,
£.jd various other part^; and these are different in
their construction and appearanco in the diff -rent
Bpecies. Some plants, as the oak, are distinguish-
ed for their strength and hardness; others, as tlie

elm and fir, are tall and slender; some are tah
like the cedar of Lebanon, while others never at-
tain to any considerable hight; some liave a
rough and uneven bark, while others are smoott"
and fine, as the birch, the maple, and the poplar,
some are so slight and delicate that the least wind
may overturn them, while others can resist the
violence of the northern blasts; some acquire
their full growth in a few years, while others grow
to a proJigious highland size, and stand unrdiakeu
amidst the lapse of centuries; some drop their
leaves in autumn, and remain for months lika
blighted trunks, while others retain their verdure
amidst the most furious blasts of winter; some
have leaves scarcely an inch in length or breadth,
while others, as the iallipot of Ceylon, have leaves
so large that one of them, it is said, will shelter
fifteen or twenty men from the rain.

The variety in the vegetable kingdom, in re-
spect oi Jlowers, is apparent even to the least at-
tentive observer. Every species is different from
another in the form and hues which it exhibits.
Tlie carnation ditfers from the rose, the rose from
the tulip, the tulip from the auricula, the auricula
from the lily, the lily from the narcissus, and the
ranunculus from the daisy. At the same time
each ranunculus, daisy, rose or tulip, has its own
particular character and beauty, something that is
peculiar to itself, arid in which it is distinguished
from its fellows. In a bed of ranunculuses, or
tulips, for example, we shall scarcely find two in-
dividuals that have precisely the same aspect, or
present the same assemblage of colors. Some
flowers are of a stately size, and seem to reign
over their fellows in the same parterre, others are
lowly or creep along the ground; some exhibit
the most dazzling colors, others are simple and
blush almost unseen; some perfume the air with
e.'tqnisite odors, while others only please the sight
with their beautiful tints. Not only the forms
and colors of flowers but ihe'n perfumes, are differ
ent. 1'he odor of southernwoovl differs from that
of thyme, that of peppermint from that of balm,
and that of the daisy from the rose, wliich iiidi-
cates a variety in their internal structure, and in
the juices that circulate witliin them. The /cfluca
of all vegetables, like the skin of the human body
are diversified with a multitude of extremely fine
vessels, and an astonishing number of pores. In
a kind of box-tree called Falma Cereres, it lias
been observed that there are above an hundred
and seventy-two thousand pores on one single side
of the leaf. In short, the whole earth is covered
with vegetable life in such profusion and variety
as astonishes the conteinplative mind. Not only
the fsrtile plains, but the rugged mountains, the
hardest stones, the most barren spots, and even the
caverns of the ocean, are diversified with plants
of various kinds; and, from the torrid to the frig-
id zone, every soil and every climate has plants
and flowers peculiar to itself. To attempt to esti-
mate their number anl variety would be to at-
tempt to (Ave into the depths of infinity. Yet,
every diversity in the species, every variety in
the form of the individuals, and even every differ
ence in the shale and combination of color in
flowers of the same species, exhibits a distinct con*
ception which must have existed in the Divine
Mind before the vegetable kingilom was created.

Were we to take a sur^'ey of the mineral king-
dom, we should also behold a striking exhibition
of the "manifold wisdom of God." It is true,
indeed, that we cannot penetrate into the interior
recesses of the globe, so as to ascertain the sub-
stances which exist, and the processes which are
going on near its central regions. But, within a

VARIETY IN THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM.

77

few huudrfds of fathoms of its surface, wo find
such an astonishing diversity of mineral substan-
ces as clearly shows, that its internal parts have
been constructed on t!ic same plan of variety as
that of the animal and vegetable kingdoms. In
the classes of earthy, saline, inflammable, and ?»/e-
tallic fossils, under which mineralogists have ar-
ranged the substances of the mineral kingdom,
are contained an immense number of genera
and S]>ecies. Under the earthy class, of fossils
are comprehended diamonds, chrysolites, men-
ilites, garnets, zeolites, corundums, agates, jas-
pers, opals, pearl-stones, tripoli, clay slate, basalt,
lava, chalk, limestone, ceylanite, strontian, bary-
tes, celestiiie, and various other substances. The
saline class comprehends such substances as the
following, natron or natural soda, rock salt, niter,
alum, sal-ammoniac, Epsom salt, &c. The class
of iiijlammahle substances comprehends sulphur,
carbon, bitumen, coal, amber, ciiarcoal, naphtha,
petroleum, asphalt, caoutchouc, mineral tar, &,c.
The metallic class comprehends platina, gold, sil-
ver, mercury, copper, iron, lead, tin, bismuth, zinc,
antimony, cobalt, nickel, manganese, molybde-
num, arsenic, scheele, meuachanite, uran, silvan,
chromium, tungsten, uranium, titanium, telluri-
um, sodium, potassium, &:c. All these mineral
substances are distinguished by many varieties of
species. There are eight genera of earthy fossils.
One of these genera, \\\q flint, contains 34 spe-
cies, beside numerous varieties, sucii as cliryso-
beryls, topazes, agates, beryls, quartz, emery,
diamond spar, &c. Another genus, the day, con-
tains .32 species, such as opal, pitch-stone, felspar,
black chalk, mica, hornblende, &c., and another,
the calc, contains 20 species, as limestone, chalk,
slate, spar, ilour, marie, boracite, loam, &c. —
There are ten species of silver, five of mercury,
seventeen of copper, fourteen of iron, ten of lead,
six of antimony, three of bismuth, &c. All the
bodies of the mineral kingdom differ from one
another as to figure, transparency, hardness, lus-
ter, ductility, texture, structure, feel, sound, smell,
taste, gravity, and their magnetical and electrical
properties; and they exhibit almost every variety
of color. Some of those substances are soft and
pulverable, and serve as a bed for the nourishment
of vegetables, as black earth, chalk, clay, and
marl. Some are solid, as lead and iron; and some
are fluid, as mercury, sodium, and potassium.
Some sire brittle, as antimony and bismuth, and
some are malleable, as silver and fin. Some are
subject to the attraction of the magnet, others are
conductors of the electric fire; some are easily
fusible by heat, others will resist the strongest
heat of our common fires. Some are extremely
ductile, as platina, the heaviest of the metals,
which has been drawn into wires less than the
two thousandth part of an inch in diameter, — and
i/old, the parts of which are so fine and expansi-
ble, that an ounce of it is sufficient to gild a sil-
ver wire more than l.'}00 miles long.

In order to acquire the most impressive idea of
the mineral kingdom, we must visit an extensive
mincralogical museum, where the spectator will
be astonished both at the beauty and the infinite
diversity which the Creator has exhibited in this
department of nature. Here it may be also no-
ticed, that not only the external aspect of mine-
rals, but also the interior configuration of many of
them, displays innumerable beauties and varieties.
A rough dark-looking pebble, which to an incuri-
ous eye appears only like a fragment of common
rock, when cut asunder and polished, presents an
assemblage of the finest veins and most brilliant
colors. If we go into a lapidary's shop and take

a leisure!)' survey of his jaspers, topazes, corneli-
ans, agates, garnets, and other stones, we cannot
fail to be struck with admiration, not only at tho
exquisite polish and tlie delicate wavings which
their surfaces present, but at the variety of design
and coloring exhibited even by individuals of the
same species, the latent beauties and diversities of
which require the assistance of a microscope to
discern, and are beyond the ciTorts of the most
exquisite jx'ncil fully to imitate.

Not only in the objects which are visible to the
unassisted eye, but also in tJiose which can only be
perceived by the help of microscopes, is the charac-
ti^ristic of variety to be seen. In the scales of
fishes, for example, we perceive an infinite num-
ber of diversified specimens of the most curious
workmanship. Some of these are of a longish
form, some round, some triangular, some square;
in short, of all imaginable variety of shapes.
Some are armed with sharp prickles, as in the
perch and sole; some have smooth edges, as in the
tench and cod-fish; and even in the same fish
there is a considerable variety; for the scales taken
from the belly, the back, the sides, the head and
other parts, are all diflferent from each other. In
the scale of a perch we perceive one piece of deli-
cate mechanism, in the scale of a haddock an-
other, and iji (lie scale of a sole, beautii>s different
from both. We find some of them oi'namented
with a prodigious number of concentric flutings,
too near each other and too fine to be easily enu-
merated. These flutings are frequently traversed
by others diverging from the center of the scale,
and proceeding from thence in a straight line to
the circumference. On every fish there are many
thousands of these variegated pieces of mechan-
ism. The hairs on the bodies of all animals are
found, by the microscope, to be composed of a
number of extremely minute tubes, each of v/hich
has a round bulbous root, by which it imbibes its
proper nourishment from the adjacent humors,
and these are all different in different animals.
Hairs taken from the head, the eye-brows, tho
nostrils, tlic beard, the hand, and other parts of
the body, are unlike to each other, both in the
construction of the roots and the hairs themselves,
and appear as varied as plants of the same genus
but of difl^erent species. The parts of which the
feathers of birds are composed, afford a beauti-
ful variety of the most exquisite workmanship.
There is scarcely a feather but contains a million
of distinct parts, every one of them regularly
shaped. In a small fiber of a goose-quill, more
than 1200' downy branches or small leaves have
been counted on each side, and each appeared di-
vided into 16 or 18 small joints. A small part of
the feather of a peacock, one-thirtieth of an inch
in length, appears no less beautiful than the whole
feather does to the naked eye, exhibiting a multi-
tude of bright shining parts, reflecting first one
color and then another in the most vivid manner.
The wings of all kind of insects, too, pre.sent an in-
finite variety, no less captivating to the mind than
pleasing to the eye. They appear strengthened
and distended by the finest bones, and covered
with the lightest membranes. Some of them are
adorned with neat and beautiful feathers, and
many of them provided with the finest articula-
tions and foldings for the wings, when they are
withdrawn and about to be iolded up in their
cases. The thin membranes of the wings appear
beautifully divaricated with thousands of little
points, like silver studs. The wings of some flies
are fdmy, as the dragon-fly; others have them
.stuck over with short bristles, as the flesh-fly;
some have rows of feathers along their ridges, and

78

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

borders round tlioir edge, as in gnats; some have
hairs and olliers luive hooks placed witli tlie great-
est regularity and order. In liio wings of motUs
aim butlerllies there are millions of small feathers
of (iiill-reiit shapes, diversitied with tiic greatest
varik.'ly of bright and vivid colors, each of them
BO small as to be altogether invisible to the naked
eye.

The Icanes of all plants and Howcrs, when ex-
amined by the microscope, are found to be full of
innumerable raniificatious that convey the perspi-
rubie juicjs to the pores, and to consist of barcn-
chymous and ligneous libers, interwoven in a
curious and admirable manner. The smallest
hat, even one which is little more 'than visible to
the naked eye, is found to be thus divaricated,
and Iho variegations are different in the leaves of
diif -rent vegetables. — A transverse section* of a
plant not more thai^ one-fourth of an inch in
diameter, displays such beauties and varieties,
through a powerful microscope, as cannot be con-
ceivea without ocular inspection. The number
of pores, of all sizes, amounting to hundreds of
thousands (which appear to be the vessels of the
plant cut asunder), the beautiful curves they as-
sume, and the radial and circular configurations
they present, are truly astonish.ing; and every
distinct species of plants exhibits a aifFerent con*-
figuration. I have counted in a small section of
a plant, of the size now slated, 5000 radial lines,
each containing about 250 pores, great and small,
which amount to one million two hundred and
Jijtij tlmusand of -these variegated apertures. — Even
Vie particles of sand on the sea-shore, and on
the banks of rivers, differ, in the size, form, and
color of their grains; some being transparent,
others opaque, some having rough and others
Binooth surfaces; some are spherical or oval, and
some pyramidal, conical or prismatical. Mr. Hook,
happening to view some grains of white sand
through his microscope, hit upon one of the
grains which was exactly shaped and wreathed
like a shell, though it was no larger than the
point of a pin. ''It resembled the shell of a
Bmall water-snail, and had twelve wreathings, all
growing propoitionably one less than the other
toward the middle or center of the shell, where
there was a very small round white spot." This
gives us an idea of the existence of shell-fish
which are invisible to the naked eye, and, conse-
quently, smaller than a mite.

The variety of forms in which animal life ap-
pears, in those invisible departments of creation
which the microscope has enabled us to explore,
is truly wonderful and astonishing. Microscopic
animals are so different from those of the larger
kinds, that scarcely any analogy seems to exist be-
tween them; and one would be almost tempted to
suppose that they lived in consequence of laws di-
rectly op])osite to those which preserve man and
the other larger animals in existence. When we
endeavor to explore this region of animated nature,
we feel as if we were entering on the conllncs of
a new world, and surveying a new race of sen-
tient existence. The nurnher of those creatures
exceeds all human calculation. Many hundreds
of species, all differing in their forms, habits, and
motions, have already been detected and described,
but we have reason to believe, that by far the
greater part is unexplored, and perhaps forever hid
from the view of man. They are of all shapes
and forms: ^ome of them appear like minute atoms,
some like globes and spheroids, some like hand-
bells, some like wheels turning on an axis, some
like double-headed monsters, some like cylinders,
•ome have a worm-like appearance, some have

horns, some resemble eels, some are like long haira,
150 limes as long as ihey are broad, some like
spires and cupolas, some like fishes, and some like
animated vegetables. Some of them are almost
visible to the naked eye, and some so small that
the breadth of a human hair would cover fifty oi
a hundred of them, and others so minute that mil-
lions of millions of tliern might be containe;! within
the compa.ss of a square inch. In every pond and
ditch, and almost in every puddle, in the infusions
of pepper, straw, grass, oats, hay and other vege-
tables, in paste and vinegar, and in the water
found in oysters, on almost every plant and flower,
and in the rivers, seas and oceans, these creatures
are found in such numbers and variety as almost
exceed our conce[)tioii or belief. A class of these
animals, called Medusm, has been found so numer-
ous as to discolor the ocean itself. Captain Scores-
by found the number in the olive-green sea to be
inunense. A cubic inch contains sixty-four, and
coiisequenily a cubic mile would contain 23,-
8fc'C<,000,000",000,000; so that, -if one person should
count a million in seven days, it would have re-
quired that 80,000 persons should' have started at
the creation of the world to have completed the
enumeration at the present tiine. Yet, all the mi-
nute animals to which we now allude, are fur-
nislied with numerous organs of life as well as
the larger kind, some of their internal movements
are distinctly visible, their motions arc evidently
voluntary, and some of them appear to be pos-
sessed of a considerable degree of sagacity, and to
be fond of eacli other's society.*

In short, it may be affirmed without the least
hesitation, that "the beauties and varieties which
exist in those regions of creation which are invis-
ible to the unassisted eye, are far more numeroug
than all that appear to a common obsers'er in the
visible economy of nature. How far this scene
of creating Power and Intelligence may extend
beyond the range of our microscopic instrumepts,
it is impossible for mortals to determine; for the
finer our glasses are, and the higher the magnify-
ing powers we apply, the more numerous and
varied are the objects which they exhibit to our
view. And as tlie largest telescope is insufficient
to convey our views to the boundaries of the great
universe, so we may justly conclude, that the
most powerful microscope that has been or ever
will be constructed, will be altogether insufficient
to guide our views to the utmost limits of the de-
scending scale of creation. But what we already
know of these unexplored and inexplorable re-
gions, gives us an amazing conception of the in-
telligence and wisdom of the Creator, of the im-
mensity of his nature, and of the infinity of ideas
which, during every portion of past duration,
must have been present before his All-Compre-
hensive Mind. What an immense space in the

* The following extract from Mr. Baker's description of
the hair-Ukc anitnaicnlc will illustrate some of tliese posi-
tions. A small (|iiantity of the matter cjontaininj these ani.
malciiles having been put into a jar of water, it so happened,
that one part went down immediately to the bottom, while
the other continued floating on the top. When thinss had
remained im some time in this condition, each ot' these
swarms of animalcules bpg;an to grow weary of its situation,
and had a mind to change its quarters. Both armies, thero-
fcre, set out at the same time, the one proceeding upward
and the other downward; so that after some time they met
in the middle. A desire of kno.\ing how they would be.
have on this occasion, engaged the observer to watch thena
carefully; and to his surprise, he saw the army that was
marching upward, open to the right and left, to make room
for those that were descending. Tims, without confusion
or intermixture, each held on its way; the army that was
going u[i marching in two columns to the top, anil the othier
proceeding in one column to the bottom, as if each aao been
under the direction of wise leaders.

MICROSCOPIC ANIMALCULE.

■calc of animal life intervenes between an animal-
eule wliieli tijjpears only the pize of a visible point,
when nmjrnilied 500,000 times, and a irhale, a
hun ireti fvt long and twenty broud! The pro-
portioii of bulk between the one of these beiiijis
and th. other is ne:irly as 34,560,000,000,000,000,
000 to 1 Yet all the intermediate space is lilied
np with animated beiiiffs of every form and order!
A similar variety obtains in the vegetable king-
dom. It has been calcnlatcd, that some plants
which grow on roxe leaves, and other shrubs, are
BO sin- II that it woidd require more than a tliou-
sand of them to equal in bulk a single plant of
moss; an i if we compare a stem of moss, which
is generally not above l-60(h of an i'lch, v/ilh
some o) the large trees in Guinea ami J3razil of
twenty feet uiaiueter, we shall find the bulk of
the one will exceed that of the other no less than
2,9-5,984,000,000 times, which multiplied by 1000
will produce 2,985,'J8-1,U00,0J0,000, the number
of tiiiii's, which the large tree exceeds the rose-
leaf plant. Yet this immense interval is filled
up with plants and trees of every form and size!
With good reason, then, may we adopt the lan-
guage of tlie inspired writers, — "How vmnij'old
are thy works, O Lord! In wisdom hast thou
made tiiem all. 0 the depth of the riches both
of the wisdom and the knowledge of God! Mar-
velous things doth he which we cannot compre-
hend."*

* The figures of microscopical objects contained in the
engravifi;j5 Nos. I and II, will convey a rude idea of some
of the objects to which I liave now alluded. See p. 154.

No. I, r ig. 1, represents the scale of a sold-fish as it appears
through a good microscope. COEi'', represents that part of
the scale which appears on the outside of the fi>h, and
ABCI), the part which adheres to the skin, being furrowed,
thai ii may liold the faster. It is terniiualed by pointed
spikes, every allernate one being longer than the interjacent
-ones. Fig. 2, is the scale of a haddock, which appears diva-
ricated like a piece of net-work. Fig. 3, represents a small
portion or fiber of the feather of a peacock, only l-"Oth of
an inch in extent, as it a(ipe.irs in the microscope The
small l:bers of these feathers i'.ppeo.r, through tliis i/istru-
ment, no less beautiful than the whole feather does to the
naked eye. Each of the sprigs or hairs on each side of the
fiber, as CIJ, DC, appears to consist of a multitude of bright
shining' parts which are a congeries of small jilales, as e(c,
&c. '1 he under sides of each of these plates are very dark
and oparpie, reflecting all the rays thrown upon them like the
foil of a looking glass; but their upper sides seem to consist
of a niuliitnde of exceedingly ihin plated bodies, lying close
together, which, by various positions of the light, reflect first
one color and then another, in a most vivid and surprising
manner. Fig. 4, 5, 6, 7, represent some of the different kinds
of feathers which constitute the dust which adheres to the
wings of moths and butterflies, and which, in the microscope,
appear tinged with a variety of colors. Each of these leath-
ers is an object so small as to be scarcely perceptible to the
naked eye.

KxpliDiation of the figures on J'J'o. If. — Fig. 1 represents
a viitr, which has eight legs, with five or six joints in each,
two feelers, a small head in proportion to its body, a sharp
snout and mouth like that of a mole, and two liule eyes.
The body is of an oval form, with a number of hairs like
bristles issuin;; from it, and the legs terminate in two hooked
claws. Fig. 2 represents a microscopic animal which was
found in an infusion of ancmonii. The surface of its back is
covered with a fine mask in the form of a human face, it has
three feet on each side, and a tail which comes out from
nnder the mask. Fig. '.), is an animalcula found in the infu.
lion of old hay. A, shows the head, with the mouth opened
wide, and its lips furnished with numerous hairs; E, is its
forked tail, 0, its intestines, an<l C, its heart, which may be
teen in regular motion. The circumference of the body
appears indented like the teeth of a saw. Fig. 4, shows the
Wlieel animal or Vorlicella. It is found in rain-water tiiat
has stood some days in leaden gnWers, or in hollows of lead
on the tops of houses. The mo-t remarkable part of this
animalcula is 'm icliccl work, which consists of two serai-
«ireular instruments, round the edges of which many little
fibrilbe move themselves very briskly, sometimes wiiii a
kind of rotation, and sometimes in a trembling or vibratory
manner. Sometimes the wheels seem to be entire circles,
with teeth like those of the balance-wheel of a watch: but
their figure varies according to the decree of their protrusion,
tod seems to depend upon the will ot the animal itself; a, is

Even the external as-pect of nature, as it appears
to a superficial observer, presents a scene of rari-
ety. Tiie range of mountains with summits of
(lifFerent bights and sha[)cs, the hiils and plains,
the glens and dells, the waving curves which ap.
pear on the face of every landscape, the dark
hues of tlie forests, the verdure of the field^^, the
towering cliffs, the rugged precipices, the rills, the
rivers, the cataracts, the lakes lind seas; the
gulfs, the bays and peninsulas; the numerous
islands of every form and size which diversify
the surface of the ocean, and the thousands of

the head and heels; h, is the heart, where its systole and
diastole are plainly visible, and the alternate motions of
contraction and dilatation are performed with great htrenath
and vigor in about the same time as the pulsation of a man's
artery. This animal assumes various sha|]es, one of which
is rejiresented at fig. .■), and becomes occasionally a case foi
all the other parts of the body.

Fig. B, represents an insect with net-like arm?. It is found
in cascades where the water runs very swift. Its body ap-
pears curiously turned as on a lathe, and at the tail are threo
sharj) spines, by which it raises itself and stands upright in
the water; but the most curious apparatus is about its head,
where it is fiirnished with two instruments, like fans or nets,
w hich serve to provide its food. These it frequently spreads
out and draws in again, and, when drawn ap, they are folded
together with the utmost nicety and exactness. When this
creature does not employ its nets, it thrasts out a pair of
sharp horns, and puts on a dift'erent appearance, as in fig. 7,
where it is shown magnified about 400 times. Fig. 8, is the
representation of an animalcula found in the infusion of tha
bark of an- oak. Its body is composed of sever;'.! ringlets,
that enter one into another, as the animal contracts itself.
At a h, are two lips furnished with movable hairs; it pusnes
out of its mouth a^vnowt composed of several pieces sheathed
in each other, as at <■.' A kind of horn,</, is sometimes pro-
trtided from the breast, composed of fiirbelows, which slide
into one another like the drawers of a pocket telescope.
Fig. 9, is another animalcula found in the same infusion,
called a tortoise, with an umbilical tail. It stretches out
and contracts itself very easily, sometimes assuining a round
figure, which it retains only for a moment, then opens its
mouth to a surprising width, forming nearly the circumfer-
ence of a circle. Its motion is very surprising and singular.
Fig. 10, is an animalcula, called great month, which is found
in several infusions. Its mouth takes np half the length of
its body; its inside is filled with darkish sjiots, and its hinder
part terminated with a singular tail. Fig 1], represents the
protc/is, so named on account of its assuming a great num-
ber of difierenl shapes. Its most coniinon shape bears a
resenibliince to that of a swan, and it swims to ami fro with
great vivacity. When it is alarmed, it sndilcniy draws in
its long neck, transforming itself into the shape represented
at »;i, and, at other times it puts forth a new head and neck
with a kind of wheel machinery, as at n. Fig. 12, exhibits
a species of animalcula shaped like bells with long tails, by
vi^hich they fasten themselves to the roots of duckweed, in
which they were found. .They dwell in colonies, from tea
to fifteen in number. Fig 13, is the globe animal, which
appears exactly globular, having no appearance of either
head, tail or fins. It moves in all directions, forward or
backward, up or down, either rolling over and over like a
bowl, spinning horizontally like a top, or gliding along
smoothly without turning itself at all. Wlien it pleases, it
can turn round, as it were upon an axis very nimbly without
removing out of its place. It is transp:irent, except where
the circi'.lar black spots are shown; it sometimes appears as
if dotted with points, and beset with short movable hairs
or bristles, which are probably the instruments by whicrh its
motions are perfornied. Fig. 14, shows a species of ani-
malcula- called soles, foixna in infusions of straw and the
ears of wheat; o, is the mouth, which is sometimes extended
to a great width; p, is the tail. F"ig. la, represents an ani-
mal found in an infusion of citron flowers. Its head is very
short, and adorned with two horns like those «f a deer; its
body appears to be covered with scales, and its tail long,
and swill in motion. Fig. 16, represents the eels which are
found in paste and stale vinegar. The most remarkable
property of these animals is, that they are viviparous. If
one of them is cut through near the middle, several oval
bodie^ of different sizes issue forth, wliich are young oiiguiU
la; each coiled op in its projier membrane. An hundred
and upward of the young ones have been seen to issue from
the body of one single eel, which accounts Sir their prodi.
gious increase.

It may not be improper to remark, that no engraving can
give an adequate idea of the objects referred to above, and,
therefore, whoever wishes to inspect nature in all her minute
beauties and varieties, must have recourse to the micro8cop«
itself.

80

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

shades of coloring which appear on every part of
Buljluiuiry yature, present a sc^ne of diversified
beauty and sul)iiinily to the eye of every beholder.
And if we lift our eyes to tho regions of the
tirmuinent, we likewise bcliold a scene of sub-
limity und grandeur mingled with variety. The
sun liims'lf appears diver.silied witii spots of va-
rious sliiipes and sizes, some a htiudrod, some a
thou.sani, and some ten thousand miles in diame-
ter— indicating operations and changes of amaz-
inof extent — and almost every nev/ revolution on
his axis presents us with new and varied clusters.
Every planet in the solar system ditfers from an-
other in its size, in its splu^roidal shape, in its di-
urnal rotation, in the aspect of its surface, in the
constitution of its atmosphere, in the number of
moons with which it is surrounded, in the nature
of its s"asons, in its distance from the sun, in the
eccenliicity of its orbit, in the period of its an-
nual ievoluliou, and in the proportion it receives
of light and heat. Every comet, too, differs from
another in its form and magnitude, in the extent
of its nucleus and tail, in the period of its revo-
lution, the swiftness of its motion, and in tho
figure of the curve it describes around the sun;
and "one star differeth from another star in
glory." But could we transport ourselves to the
surfaces of these distant orbs, and survey every
part of their constitution and arrangements, wo
should, doubtless, behold beauties and varieties of
divine workmanship far more numerous, and sur-
passing everything that appears in our sublunary
system. We have everj' reason to believe, from
the infinite nature of the Divinity, and from what
we actually behold, that the mechanism and ar-
rangements of every world in the universe are all
difTer^nt from each other; and we find that this
is actually the case, in so far as our observations
extend. The moon is the principal orb on whose
surface particular observations can be made; and
we find that its arrangements are materially dif-
ferent from those of the earth. It has no large
fivers, seas, or oceans, nor clouds such as ours to
diversify its atmosphere. It has mountains and
plains, hills and vales, insulated rocks and caverns
of every size and shape; but the form and ar-
rangement of all these objects are altogether dif-
ferent from what obtains in our terrestrial sphere.
While, on our globe, the ranges of mountains run
nearly in a line from east to west, or from north
to south, — on the surface of the moon they are
formed for the most part into circular ridges, en-
closing, like ramparts, plains of all dimensions,
from half a mile to forty miles in diameter. —
While on earth, the large plains are nearly level,
and diversified merely with gentle wavings,' — in the
moon, there are hundreds of plains of various di-
mensions sunk, as it were, nearly two miles below
the general lexel of it^ surface. On this orb we be-
hold insulated mountains, more than two miles in
elevation, standing alone, like monuments, in the
midst of plains, — circular basins or caverns, both
in the valleys, and on the summits and declivities
of mountains, and these caverns, again, indented
with smaller ones of a similar form, at the same
time, there are plains far more level and exten-
sive than on the earth. On the whole, the moun-
tain-scenery on the lunar surface is far more di-
Tei-suied and magnificent than on our globe, and
differs as much from terrestrid landscapes as the
wastes and wilds of America from the cultivated
plains of Europe. In short, while on the earth, the
highest mountains are little more than four miles
in hight, on some of the planets mountains have
been discovered, which astronomers have reckon-
ed to be twenty -two miles in elevation.

If, then, it is reasonable to believe, that all ths
worlds in the universe are different in tiieir con-
struction and arrangements, and peopled with be-
ings of (liveisifieil ranks and orders — could we
survey only a small portion of the universal sys-
tem— what an amazing scene would it dls,)lay of
the conceptions of the Divine Mind and of "<Ae
manifold wisdom of God.'" Such views, there-
fore, of the variety of nature arc evidently calcu-
lated to expand our conceptions of the divine
character, to excite us to ad)niration and rever-
ence, to extend our views of the riches of divine
beneficence, and to enlarge our hopes of the glo*
ries and felicities of that future "inheritanois
which is incorruptible and which fadeth not
away."

5. Tlie contemplation of nature, through the
medium of science, is calculated to expand our
conceptions of the power of tlie Deity, and of tin
magnificence of his empire. The power of God is
manifested by itsefTects; and in proportion as our
knowledge of these effects is enlarged, will our
conceptions of this attribute of the Divinity be
expanded. To create a single object implies an
exertion of power which surpasses finite com-
prehension;— how much more the creation and
arrangement of such a vast multiplicity of ob-
jects as those to which we have just adverted-!
For, all that immense variety of beings which ex-
ists in the animal, vegetable, and mineral king-
doms, and in the invisible regions which the mi-
croscope has explored, evinces the omnipotence of
the Deity, no less than his wisdom and intelli-
gence. But the magnitude, as well as the num-
ber and variety of the objects of creation, dis-
plays the almighty power of the Creator. In this
point of view, the discoveries of modern astrono-
my tend to aid our conceptions of the grandeur
of this perfection, and to extend our views of
the range of its operations far beyond what
former ages could have imagined. When we
take a leisurely survey of the globe on which w*
dwell, and consider the enormous masses of itv
continents and islands, the quantity of water h
its seas and oceans, the lofty ranges of mountainr
which rise from its surface, the hundreds of ma
jestic rivers which roll their waters into the ocean
the numerous orders of animated beings witl
which it is peopled, and the vast quantity of mat
ter enclosed in its bowels from every part of it»
circumference to its center, amounting to more
than tico hundred and sixty thousand miliums
of cubical miles — we cannot but be astonished at
the greatness of that Being who first launched it
into existence, who "measures its waters in the
hollow of his hand, who weighs its mountains in
scales, and its hills in a balance;" and who haa
supported it in its rapid movements, from age to
age. But, how must our conceptions of divine
power be enlarged when we consider, that this
earth, which appears so great to the frail beings
which inhabit it, is only like a small speck in
creation, or like an atom in the immensity of
space, when compared with the myriads of worlds
of superior magnitude which exist within the
boundaries of creation! When we direct our
views to the planetary system, we behold three oi
four globes, which appear only like small studs on
the vault of heaven, yet contain a quantity of
matter more than two thousand four hundred
times greater than that of the earth, beside more
than twenty lesser globes, most of them larger
than our world,* and several hundreds of comets.

• The satellites of Jnpiter, Satnm and Herschel aie all
reckoned to be larger than the earth.

MAGNITUDE OF THE UNIVERSE.

81

•f various inignitudes, moving in every direction
through the d.-ptiis of space. Tlio Sun is a bod)^
of sucii ^iiagiiiuide as overpowers our feeble coii-
ceptioJis, and fills us with astonishment. Within
the widti circuHiferenco of tliis luininarj' more
than a iniilion of worlds as large as ours could
be contained. His body fills a cubical space
equal to G:'l,472,U00,nji),000,000 miles, and his
Burfttce more than 40,000,000,000, or forty thou-
sand millions of square miles. At the rate of sixty
miles a-day, it would require more than a hun-
dred millions of years to pass over every square
mile on his surface. His attractive energy ex-
tends to several thousands of millions of miles
from his surface, retaining in their orbits the most
distant planets and comets, and dispensing light
and heat, and fructifying influence to more than a
hundred worlds.* What an astonishing i(iea,
then, does it give us of the power of Omnipo-
tence', when we consider, that the universe is re-
plenished with innmneruble globes of a similar
size and splendor! For every star wiiich the
naked eye perceives twinkling on the vault of
heaven, and those more distant orbs which the
telescope brings to view throughout the depths of
immensitj", are, doubtless, suns, no less in magni-
tude than that whicli "enlightens our day," and
surrounded by a retinue of revolving worlds. —
Some of them have been reckoned by astrono-
mers to be even much larger than our sun. The
■tar Lyra, for examjile, is supposed, by Sir. W.
Herschel, to be o3,275,000 miles in diameter, or
thirty-eight times the diameter of the sun; and,
if so, its cubical contents will be 3G,842,9.'>2,671,
875,000,000,000 miles, that is, more than ,/(/?if;/b«r
thousand times larger than the sun. The number
of such bodies exceeds all calculation. Sir W.
Herschel perceived in that portion of the milky
way which lies near the constellation Orion, nO
less than 50,000 stars large enough to be distinct-
ly numbered, pass before his telescope in a hour's
time; beside twice as many more which could be
Been only now and then by faint glimpses. It
has been reckoned that nearly a hundred millions
of stars lie within the range of our telescopes.
And, if we suppose, as we justly may, that each of
these suns has a hundred worlds connected with
it, there will be found ten thousand millions of
worlds in that portion of the universe which
comes within the range of human observation,
beside those which lie concealed from mortal eyes
in the unexplored regions of space, whicli may as
far exceed all that are visible, as the waters in the
caverns of the ocean exceed in magnitude a sin-
gle ])article of vapor!

Of such numbers and magnitudes we can form
no adequate conception. The mind is bewildered,
confounded, and utterly overwhelmed when it at-
tempts to gra!!:p the magnitude of the universe, or
to form an idea of the omnipotent energy which
brought it into existence. The ajuplitude of the
tcale on which the systems of the universe are
constructed tends likewise to elevate our concep-
tions of the grandeur of the Deity. Between every
one of the planetary bodi 's there intervenes a
epace of many millions of miles in extent. Be-
tween the sun and the nearest star, there is an
luteri"al, extending in every direction, of more
than twenty billions of miles; and, it is highly
probable, that a similar space surrounds every
other system. And, if we take into considera-
tion the immense forces that are in operation

• The plnnetary system, including tlie comets, contain
■ore tlran a hundred liodies dependent on the sun.

Vol. I.— 6

throughout tlie universe — that one globe, a thou-
sand times larger than the earth, is llj ing through
the regions of immensity at the rate of thirty
thousand miles an liour, another at the rate of
seventy thousand, ami another at a hundred iliou-
sanJ miles an hour, and that millions of mighty
worlds are thus traversing the illimitable spacea
of the firmament — can we refrain from exclaim-
ing, in the language of inspiration, "Great and
marvelous are thy works. Lord <Tod Almighty'
Who can by searching find out God? \Vho can
find out the Almighty to perfection? Who can
utter the miglity operations of Jehovah? Who
can show forth all his praise?"

Such a scene displays, beyond any otl'.er view
we can take of creation, the maynificence and ex-
tent of the divine empire. Those countless worlda
to which we have now adverted, are not to bo
coiisidered as scenes of sterility and desolation, or
as merely dili'using a useless splendor over the
wilds of inmiensity, nor are they to be viewed aa
so many splendid' toys to amuse a few astrono-
mers in our diminutive world. Sucli an idea
would be altogether inconsistent with every no-
tion Vv'e ought to form of the wisdom and intelli-
gence of tlie Deity, and with every arrangement
we perceive in the scenes of nature immediately
around us, where we behold every portion of
matter teeming with inhabitants. These lumin-
ous and opaque globes dispersed throughout the
regions of infinite space, must, therefore, be con-
sidered as tiie abodes of sensitive and intellectual
existence, where intelligences of various ranks
and orders contemplate the glory, and enjoy tho
bounty of their Creator. And what scenes of di-
versified grandeur must we suppose those innume-
rable worlds to display! What numerous ordera
and gradations of intellectual natures must the uni-
verse contain, since so much variety is displayed
in every department of our sublunary systemt
What boundless intelligence is implied in tiie su-
perintendence of such vast dominions! On such
subjects the human mind can form no definite
conceptions. The most vigorous imagination, in
its loftiest flights, drops its wing and sinks into in-
anity before the splendors of the " King eternal,
immortal, and invisible, who dwells in the light
inapproachable," when it attempts to form a pic-
ture of the magnificence of the universe which
he,has created. But of this we are certain, that
over all this boundless scene of creation, and over
all the ranks of beings with which it is replen-
ished, his moral government extends. Every mo-
tion of the material system, every movement
among the rational and sentient beings it con-
tains, and every thought and perception that
passes through the minds of the unnumbered in-
telligences wliich people all worlds, are intimately
known, and forever present to his omniscient eye,
and all directed to accomplish the designs of hia
universal providence and the eternal purposes of
his will. "He hath prepared his throne in the
heavens, his kingdom ruleth over all," and "he
doth according to his will among the armies of
heaven," as well as "among the inhabitants of
the earth." "The host of heaven worshipeth
him, — all his works, in all places of his dominions,
praise him. His kingdom is an everlasting king-
dom, and of his government there shall be no
end." At the same moment he is displaying the
glory of his power and intelligence to worlds far
beyond the reach of mortal eyes, — presiding over
the councils of nations on earth, and supporting
the -uvisible animalcula in a drop of water. " la
J)im" all beings, from the archangel to llie worm,
" live and move," and on him they depend for all

82

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

that happiness tliey now possess, or ever will en-
joy, wliile eternal ages arc rolling on.

Such vievis of tlie oninipotence of the Deity
and of the grandeur of lii.s tMii[)ire, arc calculated
not only to expand our conceptions of his attri-
butes. l)ut to enliven our hopes in relation to tiie
enjoyments of the future world. For we behold
a pro.spect boundless as iinmensify, in which the
human soul may forever expatiate, and contem-
plate new scenes of glory and felicity continually
bursting on the view, '"world witiiout end."

Such are some of the views of the Deity wliich
the works of nature, when contemplated through
the medium of science,, are calculated to unfold.
They demonstrate the uitily of God, his wisdom
and intelligence, — his boundless bcnecolence, — -the
vast 7nuLtiplicitij of uleas ichlch have existed in his
tnir.n from eiernitij, — his aliiiighlij power, and the
mac/uitlcence of his empire. These views are in
perfect unison with the declarations of the sacred
oracles; they illustrate many of the sublime sen-
timents of the insjurcd writers; they throw a
light on the moral government of God, and ele-
vate our conceptions of the extent of his domin-
ions; they aiford a sensible representation of the
infinity and immensity of the divine nature, in
BO far as iinite minds are capable of contempla-
ting such perfections; and, when considered in
connection with the scriptural character of Deity
and the other truths of revelation, are calculated
*'to make the man of God perfect and thoroughly
furnished unto every good work." As the works
of God without the assistance of his word, are
insutfieient to give us a complete view of his char-
acter and the principles of his moral government,
so the bare reading of the Scriptures is insuffi-
cient to convey to our minds those diversified and
expansive conceptions of the Divinity to which
we have adverted, unless we comply with the re-
quisitions of the sacred writers, to " meditate on
all his works, to consider the operations of his
hands, to speak of the glory of his kingdom,"
and to talk of his "po7oer," in order that we may
be quMliiled "to make known to the sons of men
his mighty operations, and the glorious majesty
of his kingdom."

How very different, then, from the views now
stated, must be the conceptions formed of the Di-
vinity, by those whose range of thought is chiefly
confined to the objects that lie within a few miles
of their habitation, and how limited ideas must
they entertain of divine perfection! For the
view that any one entertains of the nature and
attributes of God, must, in some degree, corres-
pond to the knowledge he has acquired of the
visible effects of his power, wisdom, and benevo-
lence; since it is only by the sensible manifesta-
tions of Deity, either through the medium of
nature or revelation, that we know anything at
all about his nature and perfections. And, there-
fore, if our views of tlie manifestations of the
Didnity be limited and obscure, such will like-
wise be our views of the Divinity himself. It is
owing to the want of attention to such considera-
tions, that many worthy Christians are found to
enterUiiu very confused and distorted ideas of the
character of the Deity, of the requisitions of his
word, and of the arrangements of his universal
providence. And is it not an object much to be
desired, that the great body of mankind should
be more fully enlightened in the knowledge of
their Creator? The knowledge of God lies at the
foundation of all religion, and of all our pros-
pects in reference lo the eternal world, a\cl it
must surely bo a highly desirable attainment to
acquire as glorious and expansive an idea of the

object of our adoration, as tho finite capacity of
our intellects is capable of comprehending. Such
views as we have now exhibited of the wisdom,
power, and beneficence of the Deity, and of the
maguifici'uce and variety of his works, were they
communicated to the generality of mankind and
duly ajjprcciafed, would not only inteiest theii
afFcctions and increase their intellectual eujoy-
ment, but would enable them to understand the
meaning and references of many sublime pas-
sages in the volume of inspiration whicli they are
apt either to overlook or to misititerprct. Such
views, likewise, would naturally inspire them
with reference and adoration of the Divine Ma-
jesty, with gratitude for his wise and benevolent
arringomf'uts, — with complacency in his adminis-
tration as the moral Governor of the world, — ■
with a firm reliance on his providential care fof
everything requisite to their happiness, and with
an earnest desire to yield a cordial obedience to hif
righteous laws. At the same time, they would
be qualified to declare to others " the gloriout
honor of his Majesty, to utter abundantly th«
memory of his great goodness, and to speak of
all his wonderful works."

SECTION VII.

On the beneficial effects of knowledge oS
moral principle and conduct.

Knowledge is valuable chiefly in proportion
as it is practical and useful. It dispels the dark-
ness which naturally broods over the human un-
derstanding, and dissipates a thousand supersti-
tious notions and idle terrors by which it has been
frequently held in cruel bondage. It invigorates
and expands the intellectual faculties, and directs
thom to their proper objects. It elevates the
iiiind in the scale of rational existence, by enlarg-
ing its views and refining its pleasures. It grati-
fies the desire of the soul for perpetual activity,
and renders its activities subservient to the embel-
lishment of life and the improvement of society.
It unvails tlie beauties and sublimities of nature,
with which the heavens and the earth are adorned,
and sets before us the " Book of God," in which
we maj' trace the lineaments of his character and
the ways of his providence. It aggrandizes our
ideas of the omnipotence of Deity, and unfolds to
us the riches of his beneficence, and the depths
of his wisdom and intelligence. And, in the ex-
ercise of our })owers on such objects, we experi-
ence a thousand delightful emotions and enjoy-
ments to which the unenlightened multitude are
entire strangers. All such activities and enjoy-
ments may be reckoned among the practical ad-
vantages of knowledge.

But there is no application of knowledge more
interesting and important than its ])ractical bear-
ing on moral principle and action. If it wore not
calculated to produce a beneficial effect on the
state of morals and the intercourses of general so-
ciety, the utility of its general diffusion might,
with some show of reason, be called in question.
But, there cannot be the slightest doubt, that an
increase of knowledge would be productive of aa
increase of moral order, and an improvement iq
moral conduct. For truth, in thought and sentU
ment, leads to truth in action. The man who is
in the habit of investigating truth, and who re-
joices in it when^ ascprtained, cannot be indiffer-
ent to its application to conduct. There must be
truth in his actions; they must be the expression,

INFLUENCE OF KNOWLEDGE ON MORALS.

83

the proof, ami tho efFoct of his sentiments and af-
fections, iti order that ho may approve of them,
and b:^ s:itislied thut they are virtuous, or accord-
ant with the relations wliich subsist among moral-
agents. Tlierc must likewise be a Irntii or har-
mony between his actions, so that none of them
be incoherent with the rest. They must all be
performed on tiie same principles, with t!ie s;ime
desi-riis, and bj' the same rule. To a man who
percrives trutii and loves it, every incongruity and
every want of consistency between sentiment and
action, produces a disagreeable and painful sen.sa-
tioa; an i, consi-quently, lie who clearly perceives
the rule of right, and acts in direct opposition to
it, do 's violence to his nature, and must be sub-
jected to feelings and remorses of conscience far
more puinfiil than those of the man whose mind
is shrouded in ignorance. It is true, indeed, that
prolicimcy in knowledge and in the practice of
true morality, do not always proceed with equal
pace. But, it is nevertheless true, that every ac-
tion that is truly virtuous is founded on know-
ledge, and is the result of scrutiny and choice di-
rectel by truth; otherwise, what is termed virtue,
would bo oidy the effect of necessity, of con-
str.iiiit, or of mechanical habits. We need not,
therefore, f.-ar, that the dominion of virtue* will
be contracted, or her influence diminished, by an
enlargement of the kingdom of light and know-
ledge. They are inseparably connected, their em-
pire is one and the same, and the true votaries of
the one will also be the true votaries of the other.
And, therefore, every one that sincerely loves
mankind and desires their moral improvement,
will diifuse light around him as extensively as he
can. without the least fear of its ultimate conse-
quences; siAce he knows for certain, that in all
cases whatever, wisdom excels folly, and light is
better tiian darkness. Tha following observations
will i>irii-ips tend more particularly to confirm
and eluci.iute these positions.

1. I(jnorance is one principal cause of the want
of virtue, and of the immoralities ichick abound in
the world. Were we to take a survey of the mo-
ral slate of the world, as delineated in the history
of nations, or as depicted by modern voyagers and
travelers, we sliould find abundant illustration of
the truth of this remark. We should find, in al-
most every instance, that ignorance of the char-
acter of the true God, and false conceptions of
the nature of the worship and service he requires,
have led not only to the most obscene practices
and immoral abominations, but to the perpetration
of tiie most horrid cruelties. We have only to
turn cut eyes to Hindostan, to Tartary, Daliomy,
Benin Ashantee, and other petty states in Africa;
to Nl-v" Zealand, the Marquesas, the Sandwich
islaiiuji, and to the Society isles in the Southern
Piicinc, prior to their late moral transformation,
in orJi-r to be convinced of this melancholy truth.
The destruction of new-born infants, — the burn-
ing of living women upon the dead holies of their
husbands, — the drowning of aged parents, — the
oft" ring of human victims in sacrifice,^-the tor-
turing to death of prisoners taken in battle, — the
mui\;cr of infants and the obscene abominations
of the societies of the Arreoy in Otaheite and
other islands, and the dreadful effects of ambition,
treachery, and revenge, which so frequently ac-
company such practices, are only a few specimens

• By oirtti^, in this place, and wherever the term occurs,
I uml'er.^lanJ, coiuluct regulated by the law of God, includ-
ing Lolli the external action and the principle whence It
flows; in other words, Christian morality, or that holiness
uhich the Scriptures enjoin.

of the consequences of ignorance combined with
human de])ravity. It is likewise to ignorance
chielly that the vices of the ancient pagan world
are to be attributed. To this cause the apostle of
the Gentiles ascribes the immoralities of tiie hea-
then nations. " The Gentiles," says Paul, " hav-
ing the understaniiing darkened through tho ig-
norance that is in them, have given themselves
over unto lasciviousness, to work all manner of
undeanness with greediness." * And, in another
part of his writings, he declares, "Because they
did not like to retidu God in their knowledge,
they were given up to a reprobate mind," or a
mind void ^judgment; and the consequence was,
" they were filled with all unrighteousness, forni-
cation, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness,
envy, murder, deceit, and malignity;" they were
" backbiters, haters of God, proud, boasters, in-
ventors of evil things, disobedient to parents,
without understanding, without natural alt'ection,
implacable, and unmerciful."t And, if we turn our
eyes to the state of society around us, we shall find
that the same causes produce the same effects.
Among what class do we find sobriety, temperance,
rectitude of conduct, honesty, active beneficence,
and abstinence from the grosser vices most fre-
quently to prevail? Is it among ignorant and gro-
veling minds? Is it not among the wise and intelli-
gent, those who have been properly instructed in
their duty, and in the priiiciples of moral action?
And, who are those that are found most frequently
engaged in fighting, brawling, and debauchery, ia
the commission of theft and other petty crimes,
and in rioting in low houses of dissipation? Are
they .not, for the most part, tho rude, the igno-
rant, and untutored, — those wliose instruction hag
been neglected by their parents or guardians, or
whose wayward tempers have led them to turn a
deaf ear to the reproofs of wisdom? From all
the investigations which of late have been made
into the state of immorality and crime, it is found,
that gross ignorance, and its necessary concomi-
tant, groveling affections, are the general charac-
teristics of tliose who are engaged in criminal
pursuits, and most deeply sunk in vicious indul-
gence. Now, if it be a fact that ignorance is one
principal source of immorality and crime, it ap-
pears a natural and necessary inference, that the
general diff'nsion of knowledge would tend to
counteract its influence and operations. For
when we remove the cause of any evil, we, of
course, prevent the effects; and not only so, but at
the same time bring into operation all those vir-
tues which knowlecge has a tendency to produce
2. Knowledge is requisite for ascertaining the
true principles of moral action, and the duties we
ought to perform. Numerous are the treatises
which have been written, and various the opinions
which have been entertained, both in ancient and
modern times, respecting the foundation of virtue
and the rules of human conduct. And were we
to investigate the different theories which have
been formed on this subject, to weigh the argu-
ments which have been brought forward in sup-
port of each hypothesis, and to balance the vari-
ous conflicting opinions which different philoso-
phers have maintained, a considerable portion of
human life would be wasted before we arrived at
any satisfactory conclusions. But if we take the
system of revelation for our guide in the science
of morals, we shall be enabled to arrive, by a
short process, at the most important and satisfac-
tory results. We shall find, that, after all th»
theories which have been proposed, and the sy*"

• Ephes. iv. 18, 19.

t Rom. i. 28, 31.

84

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

tenis which have been reared by etliical philoso-
phers, tlie Supreme Lawgiver has comprised the
essence of true morality iiiidor two cominunds, or
fundaiiient'd priLici;)le:i, " 'I'hon shall love ti)c
Lord thy Go.i with all thy heart," and "Thou
«halt love thy iifighbor as thyself." On these
two co:iim:indniont-i rests the whole dtity of man.

Now, although tiia leading ideas contained in
these coinmaiiaS arc simple and obvious to every
one who considers them attentively, yet it requires
certain habits of reflection and a considerable
portion of knowledge, to be enabled to trace these
laws or principles to all their legitimate conse-
quences, and to follow them in all their ramifica-
tions, and in their bearings on human conduct,
end on the actions of all moral intelligences.
For, it can easily be show'n, that these laws are
60 comprehensive as to reach every possible moral
action, to prevent every moral evil, and to secure
the happiness of every moral agent", — that all the
duties inculcated in the Bible, which we owe to
God, to our fellow-creatures, and to ourselves, are
comprehended in them, and are only so many
ramitications of those general and fundamental
principles, — that they are equally adapted to men
on earth and to angels in heiven, — that their con-
trol extends to the inhabitants of all worlds, — t'nat
they form the basis o( the order and hapj)iness of
the whole intelligent system — and that their au-
thority and influence will extend not only through
all the revolutions of time, but through all the
ages of eternity. Here, then, we have a subject
calculated to exercise the highest powers of intel-
ligence, and the more we investigate it the more
ehall we admire the comprehensive nature of that
" law which is exceeding broad," and the more shall
we be disposed to comply with its divine requisi-
tions. But unless we be, in some measure, ac-
quainted with the first jirinciples of moral action,
and their numerous bearings upon life and con-
duct, we cannot expect to make rapid advances in
the path of virtue, or to reach the sublimer bights
of moral improvement.

3. Knowledge, combined with habits of think-
ing, would lead to inquiries into the reasons of
those moral laws which the Creator has jiromul-

fated, and the foundations on which they rest,
t is an opinion which very generally prevails,
even among the more respectable portion of man-
kind, that the moral laws given forth to men are
tlie tnere dictates of Soverevjniy, and depend solely
©n the idll of the Diity, and, consequently, that
tbey might be modified, or even entirely super-
seded, were it the pleasure of the Supreme Legis-
lator to alter them or to suspend their authority.
But this is a most absurd and dangerous position.
It would take away from the inherent excellence
of virtue, and would represent the Divine B^'ing
as acting on principles similar to those of an
Eastern despot. If such a position v/ere true, it
would follow, that all the immoralities, cruelties,
oppressions, wars, and butcheries that have taken
place in the world, are equally excellent and
amiable as truth, justice, virtue, and benevolence,
and that the character of infernal fiends is just as
lovely and praiseworthy as that of angels and
archangels, provided the Deity trilled that such a
change should take place. Were such a change
possible, it would not only overturn all the notions
we are accustomed to entertain respecting the
moral attributes of God, but might ultimately
destroy our hopes of future enjoyment, and en-
danger the happiness of the whole moral universe.
But, there is an inherent excellence in moral vir-
tue, and the Deity has willed it to exist, because
it is essential to the happiness and order of the

intelligent system. It might be shown, tlia( not
only the two fundamental principles of religion
and morality stated above, but all the moral pre-
cej^ls which flow from tliem, are founded on the
nature of God, and on the relations which subsist
among intelligent agents, and that, were they re-
versed, or Iheir influence suspended, nii.sery would
reign uncontrolled through the universe, and inth«
coiir.se of ages the whole moral and intelligent
system would be annihilated *

Now, if men were accustomed to "investigata
the foundations of morality, and the reasons of
those moral precepts which arc laid before them
as tiie rule of their conduct, they would perceive
a most powerful motive to universal obedience.
They would plainly see, that all the laws of God
are calculated to secure the ha])piness of every
moral agent who yields obedience to them, — that
it is their interest to yield a voluntary submission
to these laws, — and that misery both here and
hereafter, is the certain and necessary consequence
of their violation. It is a common feeling with a
considerable portion of mankind, though seldom
expressed in words, that the laws of heaven are
too strict and unbending, — that they interfere
with what they consider their pleasures and en-
joyments, and that if one or more of them could
be a little modified or relaxed, they would have
no objections to attempt a com])liunce with the
rest. But such feelings and sentiments are alto-
gether preposterous and absurd. It would be in-
consistent not only with the rectitude, but with
the benevolence of the Deily, to set aside or to
relax a single requisition of that law which is
'■^perfect,'''' and Vi'liich, as it now stands, is calcu-
lated to promote the haj)jiiness of all worlds.
Were he to do so, and to permit moral agents to
act aocordingly, it would be nothing less than to
sliut up the path to iiappiness, and to open the
flood-gates of misery upon the Intelligent universe.
Hence we are told by Him who came to fulfill tho
law, that, sooner may "heaven and earth pass
away," or the whole frame of nature be dissolved,
than that " one jot or one tittle can pass from
this law." For, as it is founded on the nature of
God, and on the relations which subsist between
Him and created beings, it must be absolutely
perfect and of eternal obligation ; and, conse-
quently, nothing could be taken from it, without
destroying its perfection, nor anything added to
it, without supposing that it was originally im-
perfect. Were the bulk of mankind, therefore,
ca[)able of entering into the spirit of sr.ch investi-
gations, and qualified to perceive the true founda-
tions of moi-al actions ; were they, for example,
clearly to perceive, that trutli is the bond of so-
ciety, and the foundation of all delightful inter-
course among intelligent beings in every world, and
that, were the law which enjoins it to be reversed,
and rational creatures to act accordingly, all con-
fidence would be completely destroyed, — the in-
habitants of all worlds thrown into a state of
universal anarchy, and creation transformed into
a chaos, — such views and sentiments could not
fail of producing a powerful and beneficial in-
fluence on the state of morals, and a profound
reverence and respect for that lav/ "which ]m
holy, just, a)id good."

4. Knowledge, in combination witn habits of
reflection, would lead to self-examination and self-
inspection. The indolent and untutored mind

* For a full illustration of these positions, anil a variety
of topic's connected with them, the author begs to refer his
readers to a work which he lately published, entitled " I'A*
Piiilosnplty of Religion, or an Illustration of tilt Moral
Laws of the L'aivcrse,"

KNOWLEDGE INFLUENTIAL ON MORALS.

85

bIuiiis all exer('M) of its intellectual faculties, and
all serious roHectioa on what passes williiii it,
or litis a n'luliou to moral character and conduct.
It is iiic:i})ul)ie of investigating its own powers,
»f doleiiuiiiiiig the manner in which they should
pperatp, or of ascertaining the secret springs of
Its actions. Yet, without a habit of reflection
iiid se!f-exami' ution, we cannot attain a know-
ledge of ourselves, and, without self-knowledge,
tve cannot apply aright our powers and capaci-
ties, correct our failings and d>^fects, or advance
to higlier degrees of improvcinent in knowledge
and virtue, la order to ascertain our state, our
character, and our duty, such inquiries as the
following must frequently and seriously be the
subject of consideration. What rank do I hold
in the scale of being, and what place do I occupy
in the empire of God? Am I merely a sensitive
creature, or am I also endowed with mora, and
intellectual powers? In what relations do I stand
to my fellow-creatures, and what duties do I owe
them? What is my ultimate destination? Is it
men ly to pass a few years in eating and drink-
ing, in motion and rest, like the lower animals,
or am I designed for another and a higher sphere
of existence? In what relation do I stand to my
Creator, and what homage, submission, and obe-
dience ought I to yield to him? What are the
talents anU capacities with which I am endowed,
and how shall I a])ply them to the purposes for
which they were given me? What are the weak-
nesses and deficiencies to which I am subject,
and how arc tliey to be remedied? Wliat are the
viocs and follies to which I am inclined, and by
what means may they be counteracted? What
are the temptations to which I am exposed, and
how shall they be withstood? What are the se-
cret springs of my actions, and by what laws and
motive.s are they regulated? What are the tem-
pers and dispositions which I most frequently in-
dulge, and are they accordant with the rules of
'ectitude and virtue? What are the prejudices
I am apt to entertain, and by what means may
'.hey be subdued? What are the affections and
appetites in which I indulge, and are they regu-
'ated by the dictates of reason and the law of
God? WMiat are my great and governing views
in life? Are they correspondent to the will of
my Creator, and to the eternal destination that
awaits nic? Wherein do I place my highest hap-
piness? In the pleasures of sense, or in the plea-
sures of intellect and religion, — in the creature or
in the Creator? How have I hitherto employed
my moral powers and capacities? How do 1 stand
aflccied toward my brethren of mankind? Do I
nate, or envy, or despise any of them? Do I
griKJge them prosperity, V\ish them evil, or pur-
posely iiijure and aflront them? Or do I love
them as brethren of the same family, do them all
the good in my power, acknowledge Ihcir excel-
lencies, and rejoice in their happiness and pros-
perity ?

Such inquiries and self-examinations, when
•eriously conducted, would necessarily lead to tlie
most beneficial moral results. In leading us to a
knowledge of our errors and defects, they would
teach lis the excellency of humility, the reasona-
bleness of tiiis virtue, and the foundation on
which it rests, and of course, the folly of pridf>,
and of all those haughty and supercilious tem-
pers which are productive of so much mischief
and unhappiucss,both in the higlier and the lower
gphcres of life. Pride is uniformly the oflspring
of self-ignorance. For, if a man will but turn his
eyes within, and thoroughly scrutinize liimself, so
AS to periieive his errors and follies, and the germs

of vice which lodge in his heart, as well as the
low rank he holds in the scale of creation, Im
would see enough to teach him humbleness of
mind, and to render a jiroud disposition oi:ious
and di'testablc, and incon.sistent with the relations
in which he stands to his Creator, to his lellow-
crcatures, and to the univer.se at large. Such
mental investigations would also lead to self-pos-
session, under aflronts and injuries, and amidst
the hurry and disorder of the pa.'-sions, — to charity,
candor, meekness, and moderation, in regard to
the sentiments and condu'^^t of others, to the exer-
cise of self-denial, to decorum and consistency of
character, to a wise and steady conduct in life,
and to an intelligent j)erformance of the offii;es of
piety and the duties of religion. But how can
we ever expect that an ignorant uncultivated
mind, unaccustomed to a regular train of rational
thought. Can enter, with spirit and intelligence,
on the process of self-examination? It requires
a certain portion, at least, of information, and a
habit of reflection, before a man can be qualified
to engage in such an exercise ; and these quali-
fications can only be attained by the exercise
which the mind receives in the acquisition of
general knowledge. — If, then, it be admitted, tliat
self-ignorance is the original spring of all the fol-
lies and incongruities we behold in the characters
of men, and the cause of all that vanity, censori-
ousness, malignanc}', and vice which abound ia
the world ; and, if self-knowledge would tend to
counteract such inmioral dispositions, we must
endeavor to communicate a certain portion of
knowledge to mankind, to fit them for the exer-
cise of self-examination and self-inspection, before
we can expect that the moral world will be re-
novated, and " all iniquity, as ashamed, hide its
head, and stop its mouth."

5. Knowledge, by expanding the mind, will
enable it to take a clear and comprehensive vievir
of the motives, bearings, tendencies, and conse-
quences of moral actions. A man possessed of
a truly enlightened mind, must have his moral
sense, or conscience, much more sensible and
tender, and more judiciously directed, than that
of a person whose understanding is beclouded
with ignorance. When he has to choose be-
tween good and evil, or between good and better,
or between any two actions he has to perform, he
is enabled to bring before his mind many mora
arguments, and much higher and nobler argu-
ments and motives, to determine the choice ho
ought to make. When he is about to perform
any particular action, his mental eye is enabled
to pierce into the remote consequences which
may result from it. He can, in some measure,
trace its bearings not only on his friends and
neighbors, and the community to which he be-
longs, but also on surrounding nations, on the
world at large, on future generations, and even
on the scenes of a future eternity. For an action,
whether good or bad, performed by an individual
in a certain station in society, may have a power-
ful moral influence on tribes and nations far be-
yond the sphere in which it was performed, and
on millions who may people the world in the
future ages of time. We know that actions, both
of a virtuous and vicious nature, performed seve-
ral thousands of years ago, and in distant places of
the world, have had an influence upon the men of
the present generation, which will redound eilhei
to the lienor or the disgrace of the actors, " in that
day when God shall judge the world in righte-
ousness, and reward every man according to his
works." We also know, thai there are rertaiu
actions which to some minds may appear either

86

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOvVLEDGE.

trivirtl or inJifFeront, and to other ininds bi^neficiiil,
wliicli nevertheless involve a principle which, if
traced to its remoter conspquencct^, would lead to
the destruction of the intelligent creation. Now,
it is the man of knowledge and of moral percep-
tion alone, who can recognize such actions and
principles, and trace them to all their natural and
lesritiinate results. lie alone can apply, with
judgment and accuracy, the general laws of
moral action to every particular circumstance,
connect the present with the future, and clearly
discern the mere semblance of truth and moral
rectitude from the reality.

In short, the knowledge of divine revelation,
and a serious study of its doctrines and precepts,
must accompany every otlier s])ecies of informa-
tion, if we wish to behold mankind reformed and
moralized. It is in the sacred oracles alone, that
the will of God, the natural character of man, the
remedy of moral evil, the rules of moral conduct,
and thc^ means of moral improvement are clearly
and fully unfolded. And the man who either
rejects the revelations of heaven, or refuses to
study and investigate the truths and moral requi-
sitions they contain, can never expect to rise to
tlie sublime hights of virtue, and to the moral
dignity of his nature. Bat, were the study of the
scriptures uniformly conjoined with the study of
every other branch of useful knowledge, we
should, ere long, behold a wonderful transforma-
tion upon the face of the moraV world. Pride,
selfishness, malice, envy, ambition, and reveng°,
would gradually be undermined. The spirit of
warfare and contention would be subdued; rioting,
drunkenness, and debauchery, would be held in
abhorrence by all ranks; kindness and affection
would unite the whole brotherhood of mankind;
peace, harmony, and subordination would be dis-
played in every department of social life; "our
judges would be just, and our exactors righteous;
wars would be turned into peace to the ends of the
earth, and righteousness and praise spring forth
before all the nations." Were moral principle thus
diffused among the different classes of society, it
could not fail of producing a beneficial influence
on the progress of the arts and sciences, and on
everything tliat might tend to meliorate tire con-
dition of our fellow-creatures, and to promote the
general improvement of mankind. For, in en-
deavoring to promote such objects, we meet with
as great a difficulty in the moral as in the intellec-
tual condition of mankind. The principles of
selfishness, pride, ambition, and envy, and similar
dispositions, create obstacles in the way of sci-
entific and philanthropic improvements, tenfold
greater than any which arise from pecuniary re-
sources or physical impediments. But were such
principles undermined, and a spirit of good-will
and affection pervading the mass of society, the
machinery of the moral world would move on-
ward with smoothness and harmony; and mn.n-
kind, acting in unison, and every one cheerfully
contributing to the good of the whole, would
accomplish objects, and beneficial transformations
on t!ie physical and moral condition of society,
far superior to anything that has hitherto been
realized^

To what has been now stated, with regard to
the influence of knowledge on moral conduct, it
may, perhaps, be objected, that many instances
occur of men of genius and learning indulging in
dissolute and immoral habits, and that the hif^her
classes of society, who have received a b?tter edu-
cation than the lower, are nearly as immoral in
their conduct. In replying to such an olijecfion,
we have to consider, in the first place, what is the 1

nature of the education such persniix have riceived
Most of the higher classes have received a gram-
mar-school education, and, perhajjs, atti-n.led a
few sessions at an academy or an university.
There cannot, however, be reckoned above one in
ten who pursues his studies with avidit}', and en-
ters into the spirit of the instructions communi-
cated at such seminaries; as it is well known to
every one acquainted with the general practice of
such students in colleges and academies, tiiat a
goodly number of them spend their time as much
in folly and dissipation, as in serious study. But,
although they had acquired a competent acquaint-
ance with the different branches to whicli their
attention was directed, what is the amount of
their acquisitions? A knowledge of tiie Greek
and Latin Classics, and of pagan mythology, in
the acquisition of which five years are generally
spent at the grammar-school, and two at the uni-
versity— and the elements of logic, etiiics and
mathematical philosophy. But such departments
of knowledge, in the way in which iuey have been
generally taught, have no necessary connection
with religion and moral conduct. On the con-
trary, by keeping the principles of Christianity
carefully out of view, and even insinuating objec-
tions against them, some professors of these sci-
ences have promoted the cause of infidfdity, and
consequently impeded the progress of genuine mo-
rality. What aid can be expected to morality
from a mere grammar-school education, when the
acquisition of words and phrases, and the absurd
notions and impure practices connected with Ro-
man and Grecian idolatry, form the prominent
objects of attention; and when, as too frequently
happens, no instructions in Christianity are com-
municated, and not even the forms of religion
attended to in many of those seminaries? The
mere acquisition of languages is not the acquisi-
tion .of useful knowledge; they are, at best, but
the means of knowledge; and although we would
not di.^courage any one, who has it in his power,
from prosecuting such studies, yet it is fToni other
and more important branches of study that we ex-
pect assistance in the cause of moral improvement.
With regard to men of learning and genius,
we have likewise to inquire into the nature and
tendency of their literary pursuits, before we can
ascertain that they are calculated to prevent tha
influence of immoral propensities and passions.
Persons are designated men of learning, who have
made proficiency in the knowledge of the Greek,
Latin, French, German and other languages, —
who are skilled in mythology, antiquiiies, criti-
cism, and metaphysics, or wlio are profound stu-
dents in geometry, algebra, fl.uxions, and other
branches of the mathematics. But it is easy to
perceive, that a man may be a profound linguist,
grammarian, politician, or antiqu irim, and yet
not distinguished for virtuous conduct; for such
departments of learning have no direct bearing
upon moral principle or conduct. On the con-
trary, lichen prosecuted erclusively, to the riejlrr.t of
the more substantial parts of knoicledgc, and under
the influence of certain opinions and prejudices,
they have a tendency to withdrav/ t!ie attention
from the great objects of religion, and conse-
quently from the most powerful motives which
excite to moral action. We have likewise to in-
quire, whether such persons have made the Chris-
tian revelation one great object of th"ir study and
attention, and whetii'^r they are freou'^ntly era-
ploved in serious contemphilions of the p'-rfecfions
of the Creator, as displayed in the economy of the
universe. If such studies be altogether overlooked,
we need not wonder that such characters should

KNOWLEDGE OF A FUTURE STATE.

m

frequently slide into the paths of infidelity and
dissipatiur. ; since they neglect an attention to
those (ieijartnicnts of knowledge whicli alone can
guide thcin in the paths of rectitude. We may
as soon expect to gather "grapes from thorns or
figs from thistles," as to expect pure morality
from those, however high they may stand in lite-
rary acquirements, wiio either neglect or oppose
tlie great truths of religion. — We do not mean,
however, to iiisi.iuate, that the subjects alluded to
above are either trivial or unworthy of being pro-
secuted. On the contrary, we are fully persiuided,
that there is not a subject which has ever come
under human investigation, when prosecuted with
proper views, and in connection with other parts
of knowledge, but may be rendered subservient,
in some way or another, both to the intellectual
and moral improvement of man. But, when we
speak of diiyusing useful knowledge among the
mass of mankind, we do not so nuich allude to
the capacity of being able to translate from one
language into another, of knowing the sentiments
of the ancient Greeks and Romans, and the char-
acters and squabbles of their gods and goddesses,
or to the faculty of distinguishing ancient coins,
fragments of vases, or pieces of armor — as to the
facts of history, science, and revelation, particu-
larly in their bearing upon the religious views
and the moral conduct of mankind. And, if the
attention of the great body of the people were
directed to such subjects, from proper principles
and motives, and were thej'- exhibited to their
view in a lucid and interesting manner, there
cannot be the smallest doubt, that the interests
of virtue and of pure and undefiled religion would
be thereby promoted to an extent far beyond what
has ever yet been realized.

SECTION VIII.

On the utility of knowledge in relation to a
future world.

Man is a being destined for eternity. The pre-
sent world through which he is traveling is only
a transitory scene, introductory to a future and
an immortal existence. When his corjioreal
frame sinks into the grave, and is resolved into
its primitive elements, the intellectual principle
by wliich it was animated shall ])ass into another
region, and be happy or miserable, according to
the governing princij)les by which it was actuated
in the present life. The world in which wc now
reside may be considered as the great nursery of
our future and eternal existence, as a state of pro-
bation in which we are educating for an immortal
life, and as preparatory to our entering on higher
scenes of contcntplation and enjoyment. In this
point of view, it is of importance to consider that
our present views and recollections will be carried
along with us into that future world, that our vir-
tues or vices will be as immnrtal as ourselves, and
influence our future as well as our present happi-
ness, and, consequently, that every study in
which we engage, every disposition we now cul-
tivate, and every action we perform, is to be re-
garded as pointing beyond the present to an un-
seen and eternal existence.

If, then, we admit that the present state is con-
nected with the future, and that the hour of death
is not the termination of our existence, it must
be a matter of the utmost importance, that the
mind of every candidate for immortality be tu-
tored in tliose departments of knowledge which

have a relation to the future world, and which
will tend to qualify him for engaging in the eni-
j)loyinents, and for relishing the pleasures aud
enjoyments of that state. The following remarks
are intended to illustrate this position.

We may remark, in the first place,, in general,
that the kuowled^je acquired in the present state,
whatever be its nature, will be carried alouy with
us when we wing ourjUght to the eternal world. la
passing into that world we shall not lose any of
the mental faculties we now possess, nor sliall wd
lose our identity, or consciousness of being the
same persons we now feel ourselves to be; other-
wise, we behooved to he a diH'ercnt order of crea-
tures, and consequently could not be the subjects
either of reward or of punishment for anything
done in the present state. Destruction of our
faculties, or a total change of them, or the loss of
consciousness, would be equivalent to an annihi-
lation of our existence. But, if we carry into
the future state all our moral and intellectual
powers, we must also, of necessitj^, carry along
with them all the recollections of the present life,
and all the knowledge, both physical and moral,
which these facnllifs enabled us to acquire. Wo
have an exejQplitiration of this in the parable of
our Saviour respecting the rich man and Lazarus,
where Abraham is represented as addressing tha
former in these words; " Son, remember, that thou
in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and
likewise Lazarus evil things;" evidently imidying,
that the rich man retained the power of memory,
that he possessed a consciousness that he was the
same thinking being that existed in a former state,
and that he had a perfect recollection of the con-
duct he pursi^ed, and the scenes in which he waa
placed in this sublunary world. If, then, it ba
admitted, that we shall be, substantially, the same
intellectual beings as at present, though placed in
different circumstances, and that the ideas and
moral principles we now acquire will pass along
with us into futurity, and influence our conduct
and happiness in that state, — it cannot be a mat-
ter of indiflereiice whether the mind of an im-
mortal being be left to grope amidst the mists of
ignorance, and to sink into immorality, or bo
trained up in the knowledge of everythijig that
has a bearing on its eternal destination. On tho
contrary, nothing can be of higher value and im-
portance to evei-y human being, considered as
immortal, than to be trained to habits of reason-
ing and reflection, and to acquire that knowledge
of his Creator, of himself, of his duty, and of tho
relations in which he stands to this world and to
the next, wliich will qualify him for the society
in which he is hereafter to mingle, and the part
he has to act in a higher scene of action and en-
joyment. For, as gross ignorance is the sourco
of immoral action, and as immoral principles and
habits unjit the soul for the pleasures and enjoy-
ments of an immortal state, the man who is al-
lowed to remain amidst the natural darkness of
his understanding, can have little hope of happi-
ness in the future world, since he is destitute of
those qualifications which are requisite in oriler to
his relishing its enjoyments.

Scientific knowledge, as well as that whicli is
commonly designated theological, is to be consid'
ered as having a relation to the future tcorld. Sci-
ence, as I have already had occasion to notice, is
nothing else than an investigation of the divine
perfections and operations as displayed ia the
economy of the universe; and we have every
ground to conclude, both from reason and from
revelalion, that such investigations will be carried
forward, on a more enlarged scale, in the futuro

88

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

woiIJ wlierc the intollcctiKil powors, froed from
the o!-slriictious which now iinjioiie their 0|>era-
tioii, will b(;coine more vigorous and e.\i);uisive,
ami a more extensive scene of divine operation l)e
presented to tlie view. Tliere are certain applica-
tions of scientilic princi])les, indeed, whicli msiy
have a reference solely to the conuitioa of society
iu tlie pres'nt life, sucli as, in the construction of
cran s, diving-bells, speaking-triunpets, steym-
carriages un.l lire-engines; but the general pria-
eiples on whicli such machines are constructed,
may be apjilicable to thousands of objects and
operations in other worlds with wiiich we are
at present unacquainted. The views, however,
which science has opened of the wisdom and be-
nevolence of the Deity, of the multiplicity of
ideas and conceptions which have existed in his
infinite mind, of his almighty power, and of the
boundless range of his operations — will not bo
lost when we enter into the eternal world. They
will prepare ihe soul for higher scenes of con-
templatioii, for acquiring more expansive views
of divine perfection, and for taking more exten-
eive and sublime excursions through the bound-
less empire of Omnipotence. The same may be
affirmed of the principles of arithmetic, algebra,
geometry, conic sections, and other departments
of the mathematics, which contain truths that
are eternal and unchangeable, and that are appli-
cable in every mode of existence, and to the cir-
cumstances of all worlds. Such knowledge may
form the groundwork of all our future improve-
ments in the world beyond the grave, and give to
those who have acquired it, in conjunction with
the cultivation of moral principle, a superiority
over others in the employments and investiga-
tions peculiar to that higher sphere of existence;
and, consequently, a more favorable and advan-
tageous outset into the new and unknown regions
of the invisible state. To suppose, that the lead-
ing principles of scientilic knowledge are of util-
ity only in the present world, is not only contrary
to every enliglitened idea we can form of the fu-
ture state, either from reason or revelation, but
would remove some of the strongest motives
which should induce us to engage iu the prose-
cution of useful knowledge. If science is to be
considered as altogether confined in its views and
effects, to the transitory scenes of this mortal
fitate, its attainment becomes a matter of com-
paratively trivial importance. To a man hasten-
ing to the verge of life, there could be no strong
induce.ment to listen to its deductions or to en-
gage iu its pursuits. But, if the principles of sci-
ence, when combined with the truths of revela-
tion, extend to higher objects than the construc-
tion of machinery and the embellishment of hu-
man life, — if they point beyond the present to a
future world, if they tend to expand our views of
the attributes of the Divinity, and of the grandeur
of his kingdom, — and if they prepare tTie mind
for entering into more ample yiews and profound
Investigations of his plans and operations, in that
state of immortality to which we are destined, —
It must be a matter of importance to every hu-
man being, that his mind be imbued with such
knowledge, as introductory to the employments of
that eternal world which lies before him. — But,
we may remark more particularly

In the second place, that the arquisition of
general kmvde'lge, and habits of imnial activity,
would induce persons to serious iufjuirics into the
eoidenres of a future state. Although there are
few persons, in a Christian country, who deny the
existence of a future world, yet we have too much
reason to believe, that the great majority of Uie

population in every country arc not thnronghly
conmiici'd of this important truth, and that they
pass their lives just as if the present were ll-e ul-
tnnate scene of their destination. Noiwithsland-
ing all the "church-going" which is so cuirmioQ
among us, both among the higher and the lowet
classes, and the numerous sermons whicli are
[ireached in relation to this subject, it i.oes not
up[)ear, that the one-half of our population have
any fixed and impressive belief of the reality of an
eternal world. If it were otherwise, it woulJ be
more freqiiently manifested in their general tem-
per, conversation and conduct. But we find the
great mass of society as keenly engaged in the
all-engrossing pursuit of wealth and honors, as if
the enjoyments of this world were to last forever.
In general conversation in the social circle, the
topic of a future v/orld, and our relation to it, is
siuiiiously avoided. While a person may talk
with the utmost ease about a projected voyage to
America, the East Indies, or Van Dieman's Land,
and the geographical peculiarities of these re-
gions, and be listened to with pleasure — were he
to talk, in certain respectable companies, of his
departure to another world, and of the important
realities to which he will be introduced in that
state, — were he even to suggest a hint, that the
scene of our eternal destination ought occasion-
ally to form the subject of conversation, — cither
a sarcastic sneer or a solemn gloom would appear
on every face, and he would be regarded as a wild
enthusiast or a sanctimonious iiypocrite. But
why should men manifest such a degree of apa-
thy in regard to this topic, and even an aversion
to the very idea of it, if they live under solemn
impressions of their connection with an immor-
tal existence? Every one who admits the idea of
a future world, must also admit, that it is ono of
the most interesting and momentous subjects (hat
can occupy his attention, and that it as far ex-
ceeds in importance the concerns of this life, as
the ages of eternity exceed the fleeting periods of
time. And, if so, why should we not appear as
eager and interested in conversation on this sub-
ject, as we sometimes are in relation to a voyage
to some distant land? Yet, among the majority
of our fellow-men, there is scarcely anything to
which their attention is less directed, and the very
idea of it is almost lost amidst the bustle of busi-
ness, the acquisition of wealth, the dissipations
of society, and the vain pageantry of fashionable
life. Among many other causes of the inuiffer-
ence which prevails on this subject, ignorance and
mental inactivity are none of the least. Im-
mersed in sensual gratifications and pursuits, un-
acquainted with the pleasures of inteibct, and
unaccustomed to rational trains of reflection,
multitudes pass through life without any serious
consideration of the future scene of another world,
resolved, at the hour of dissolution, to take their
chance with the generations that have gone be-
fore them. But, were men once aroused to men-
tal activity, and to the exercise of their reasoning
powers on important objects, they would be quali-
fied for investigating the evidences which demon-
strate the immortality of man, which could not
fail to impress their minds with a strong convic-
tion of the dignity of their intellectual natures,
and of their high" destination. Those evidences
are to be found in the Christian revelation, which
has "brought life and immortality to light," and
thrown a radiance on the scenes beyond the grave.
But, even independently of revelation, the evi-
dences'which prove the immortal destiny of man,
from the light of nature, are so strong and pow-
erful, that, when w-ighed with seriousn'^ie and

KNOWLEDGE PREPARATORY TO A FUTURE STATE.

89

impartiality, they must appear satisfactory to
•very caniiid and ioquiring miiul. When we
consider tJie unioersal belief of the doctrine of
man's ininiortality wliich has prevailed in all ages
end nations — wiien we consider the desire of fu-
ture existence implanted in tlie human breast — the
noble intellectual faculties with wliich man is en-
dowed, and the strong desire of knoicledye wliicii
forms a part of his constitution — the capacity of
making perpetual progress toward intellectual and
moral perfjclion — the unlimited range of view
which is opened to the human faculties through-
out the immensity of space and duration — the maral
powers of action with which man is endowed, and
their capacity of perpetual exjiansion and activi-
ty— the apprehensions and furebodiugs of the
mirid, when under the influence of remorse — the
disordered state of tlie moral world when contrasted
witJi the systematic order of the material — the
unequal distribution of rewards and punishments
when viewed in connection with tlie justice of
God — the absurdity of admitting that the thinking
princiij'e in men will ever be annihilated — and tlie
blasphemous and absurd consequences which would
follow, if the idea of a future slate of retribution
were rejected; when we attend to these and simi-
lar considerations, we perceive an assemblage of
arguuKMits, which, when taken in combination
with each other, carry irresistible evidence to the
mind of t-very unbiased inquirer, that man is des-
tined to an immortal existence — an evidence
amounting to a moral demonstration, and no less
satisfactory than that on v^'hich we rest our belief
of the cxi.-itence of the Eternal Mind.* But the
greater part of mankind, in their present untu-
tored state, are incapable of entering into such
inquiries and investigations. For want of moral
and intellectual instruction, they maj'^ be said to
" have eyes, but see not, ears, but hear not, neither
do they understand," and hence, they pass
through t!ie scenes of mortality, almost uncon-
scious of their relation to the eternal world, and
altogether unprepared for its exercises and enjoy-
ments.

In the next place, the acquisition of knowledge, in
connectifm iciih the cultivation of moral principles
and Chrir-Jian affections, would tend to prepare the
mind for the intercourse and emploi/ments of the fu-
ture world. From tiivine revelation we are assured,
that in the future stale of happiness, the righteous
shall not only join the company of " the s])irils of
just men made perfect," but shall also be admit-
ted into "the general assembly of angels." With
these pure and superior intelligences, and doubtless
too, with tiie inhabitants of other worlds, shall the
redeemed inhabitants of our globe hold delightful
intercourse, and join in their sublime conversation
on the most exalted subj'^cts. One of the employ-
ments in which they will be incessantly engaged,
will be, to contemplate the divine works and admi-
nistration, and to investigate the wonders of crea-
•Ing power, wisdom, ami goodness, as displayed
•hrougliout the universe. For such are the repre-
seutatiuns given in scripture of the exercises of
the heaveidy world. Its inhabitants are represent-
ed as rai.^iiig the following song of prai.se to their
Creator, "Great and marvelous are thy works,
Lord God Almighty! Just and true are thy ways,
thou King of saints," wliich evidently implies,
that both tlie wonders of his creation, and tlie plan

* For n full illustration of these and other evidences of a
fntnre t;tate, along with various topii:s oonnected with this
•object, the author respei-tfully ret'trs his readers to a work
whicii he Iniely published, entitled "The PliUosopliy of a
Futurt StaU.''

of his moral government, are the subjects of their
intense study and investigation. And, in another
scene exhibited in tlie book of Revelation, lliey
are rejire.seiited in the sublime adorations they
ofier to " Him who liveth forever and ever," ua
exclaiming, " Thou art worthy, 0 Lord, to n.-ceive
glory, and honor, and power; for tliou hast created
all tilings, and for thy pleasure they are and were
created," plainly indicating, that tlie scenes of the
material universe, and the divine pcrfi-'Clions as
tiisplayed in them, are the objects of tlieir incessaut
contemplation.

JNow, in order to our being prepared for such
intercourses and employments, two grand qualifi-
cations are indispensably requisite. In tlie first
place, tiie cultivation of moral principle and con-
duct, or in other words, the altaiiiment of tiiat
holiness which the scriptures enjoin, " without
which," we are assured, " no man can see the
Lord," that is, can hold no delightful intercourse
with him through the medium of his works and
providential dispensations. Without tliis qualifi-
cation, we are altogether unfit for being introduced
into the assembly of angels and other pure intel-
ligences, and for joining with them in their holy
services and sublime adorations — as unfit as an
ignorant Hottentot, a wild Bosheman, or the low-
est dregs of society, would be to take a part in
an assembly of learned divines, statesmen, or phi-
losophers. In order to a delightful association with
any rank of intelligences, there must exist a cer-
tain congeniality of disposition and sentiment,
without which, an intimate intercourse would be
productive of happiness to neither party. Persons
of proud and revengeful dispositions, and atidicted
to vicious indulgence, could find no enjoyment in
a society where all is humility and aftoction, har-
mony and love; nor could pure and holy beings
delight in associating with them, v^'ithout suppo-
sing the moral laws of the Creator, and the con-
slitution of the intelligent universe entirely sub-
verted. Such characters are as opposite to each
other, as light and darkness; and, therefore, we
may as soon expect to make the East and West
points to meet together, or to stop the planets in
their career, as to form a harmonious union be-
tween the ignorant and vicious, and the enlighten-
ed and virtuous inhabitants of the celestial world.
In the next place, a knowledge of the character of
God, of his moral dispensations, and of his works
of creation, must form a preparation for the exer-
cises of the heavenly state; since these are some
of the subjects which occupy the attention of " the
innumerable compaiij" of angels and tjie spirits of
just men made perfect." But how could we be
supposed to engage in such studies, and to relish
such employments, if we remain altogether unac-
quaintedwith them until ours])irits lake their flight
from these tabernacles of clay? How could a man
whose mind is continually groveling among the
meanest and most trivial objects, whose soul never
rises above the- level of his daily labors, which ne-
ces.-iity compels him to perform, v.'hose highest
gratification is to carouse with his fellows, to rat-
tle a set of dice, or to shuflle a pack of cards, and
who is incapable of prosecuting a train of rational
thought — howcouhi such a one be supposed qual-
ified for entering with intelligence and delight, into
the sublime investigations, and the lofty contem-
plations wliich arrest the attention, and form the
chief exercises " of the saints in light?" There
is an utter incongruity in the idea, that a rude aud
ignorant mind could relish the enjoyments of the
iieavenly world, unless it I'e enlightened and
transformed into the image of its Creator; and we
have uo warrant from revelation to conclude that

90

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

Buch a transformation will be effecied, after the
spirit lias taken its fliyjlit to tlio invisible state.

Jint it is eusy to conceive wluit transporting
pleasures will be felt by an enlijrbtencd and vir-
tuous indisidnal when he is ushered into a scene
where his prospects will be enlarged, bis fucnlties
e.xpmded, and tJie causes which now obstruct their
energies forever removed. He will feci himself
in his native element, will resume his former in-
vestiiTations on a more enlarged scale, and with
more vigor and activity, and enjoy the prospect of
perpetually advancing from one degree of know-
ledge and felicity to another throughout an inter-
minable succession of existence. Having stu:;ie:i
the moral character of God as displayed in his
word, and in the dispensations of his i)roviJence;
having acquired, after all his researches, only a
faint and imperfect glimpse of his moral attri-
butes; having met with many difficulties and laby-
rinths in the movements of the divine govern-
ment vvhich he was altogether unable to unravel,
which prod;iC("d an ardent longing after a more
enlarged sphere of vision — how gratifying to such
a mind must it be, to contemplate the divine char-
acter in the fullness of its glory, to behold the ap-
parent iuconsi-uencies of the divine govermnent
reconciled, its intricate mazes unraveled, its v/is-
dom and rectitude displayed, and the vail whicii
concealed from mortals the reasons of its proce-
dure forever withdrawn! Having taken a cursory
survey of the di-plays of divine wisdom and good-
ness, in the arrangement of our sublunaiy system,
and in the construction of the aniinal tribes with
which it is furnislied; having directed his views,
by the light of sci 'uce, to the celestial regions;
having caught a glimpse of the astonishing opera-
tions of almighty power in the distant sjiaces of
the firmament; having been overwhelmed with
wonder and amazement at the extent and grandeur
of the divine empire; having cast many a longing
look toward distant worlds, mingled with manj'
anxious inquiries into their nature and destination
which he was unable to resolve, and having f.dt
an ardent desire to learn the history of their pop-
ulation, and to behold the scene of the universe a
little more unfol led — what transporting joys must
be felt by such an individual, when he shall enter
into a world wliere " he shall know even as also he
is known;" where the vail which intercepted his
view of the wonders of creating power shall be
removed; where the cherubim and the seraphim,
who have winged their flight through regions of
imm?nsity impassable by mortals, shall rehearse
the history of other worlds; where the sphere of
vision v,^ill be enlarged, the faculties invigorated,
and the glories of divine goodness, wisdom and
omnipotence displayed in all their effulgence!
Having familiarized such object.s to his mind, du-
ring this first stage of his existence, he will enter
on the prosecution of new discoveries of divine
perfection, with a renovated holy ardor, of which
rude and groveling minds are incapable, which
will fill his soul with ecstatic rapture — even "with
joy unspe.'ikable and full of glorv."

Let us suppose, for the sake of illustration, two
individuals of opposite characters entering the fu-
ture world at the same time — the one rude, igno-
rant, and vicious, and the other "renewed in the
spirit of his mind," and enlightened with all the
knowledge whicii science and revelation can fur-
nish— it is evident, that, although they were both
ushered into the same locality, their state and en-
joymnits would be altogether different. The one
would sink, as it were, to his natural level, follow-
ing the print iples, propensities and passions which
hepreviouslj indulged; and, although he were ad-

mitted into the society of pure and enlightened
spirits, he would remain as a cheerless, insulated
wretch, without intellectual activity, and des-
titute of enjoyment. Finding no i>leasurcs suited
to his benighted mind and liis groveling uiFec-
tions, he would be fain to flee to oilier regions and
to more congenial associates, as the owl llics from
the vocal grove and the society of tlio feathered
choir, and }>refcrs the shades of night to the beams
of day. Like this gloomy bird, which deliglita io
obscure retreats and rugged ruins, and has no rel-
ish for blooming gardens and flowery meads — th©
unenlightened and unsanctified soul would feel
itsi^lf unhappy and imprisoned, as it were, even
amid triumphant spirits, and the spleniiors of im-
mortal day. Whereas the other, having ardently
longed for such a state, and having prei iously un-
dergone the requisite preparation for its enjoy-
ments, feels himself in a region suited to his taste,
mingles with associates congenial to his disposition,
engages in exercises to which he was formerly ac-
customed, and in which he delighted, beholds a
prospect, boundless as the universe, rising before
him, on which his faculties may be exercised with
everlasting improvement and everlastijig delight,
and, consequently, experiences a " fullness of joy"
which can never be interrupted, but will be always
increasing "world without end."

Such are the views we must necessarily adopt
respecting the state and enjoyments of these two
characters in the life to come; and there is no re-
sisting of the conclusion we have deduced respect-
ing the ignorant and vicious iimiviJual, witliout
supposing that something, equivalent to a mira-
cle, will be performed in his behalf, immediately
after his entrance into the invisible world, to fit
him for the employments of a state of happinesa.
But, for such an opinion we have no evidence,
either from scripture or from reason. It would
be contrary to everything we know of the moral
government of Go I; it would strike at the foun-
aation of all religion and morality; it would give
encouragement to ignorance and vice; it would
render nugatory all the efforts of a virtuous char-
acter to increase in knowledge and holiness dur-
ing the present life, and it would give the ignorant
and the licentious an equal reason for expecting
eternal happiness in the world to come, as the
most profound Christian philosophers, or the most
enlightened and pious divines. Beside, we are
assured by the "Faithful and True Witness,"
that, as in the future world, "he who is righteous
shall remain righteous still," so "he who is unjust
shall remain unjust still, and he who is filthy shall
remain filthy still;" which expressions seem evi-
dently to imply, that no more opportunities will
be granted for reforming what had boen amiss,
and recovering the polluted and unrighteous soul
to purity and rectitude.*

If, tlien, it appears, that we shall carry the
knowledge and moral habits we acquire in this
life along with us into the other world, — and if a
certain portion of rational and religious informa*

* Wliatever opinion we may form as to the doctrine of
Cnivcrsul Re it oration, — it will be admitted, even by the
abettors of thai doctrine, that an unholy and unenlightened
sonl is unfit for celestial happiness, on ita Jir><t cntranct
into the fvtiirc vorld, and thousands or millions of yeais,
or a period equivalent to what is included in the phrase,
"aijes of ages," may elapse before it is fit for being restored
to the dignity of its nature, and the joys of heaven. Even
on this su|)position (although it were warranted by Serrp-
ture), the preparation of human beings in t!ie present life for
a stale of future happiness, must be a mattei of ine highest
iniiiorlance, since it prevents the sufTeriii^-s denoted hy "de-
vouring fire, weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth," dur-
ing the indefinite and long-coolinaed period of "age» of
ages "

AUTHENTICITY Of THE SCRIPTURES.

91

tion and Tnoral principle i.? essentially requisite to
prepare us for tlie employments and feliciiies of
tliat s'.afe — by refusing to patronize every scheme
by wliicii a general diftusion of knowledge may
be promoted, we not only allow our fellow-mmi
to wander amidst the mists of supers! ition, and
to run heedlessly into numerous dangers, both
physical and morjl, we not only deprive them of
exquisite intellectual enjoyments, and prevent the
Improvement of the arts and sciences, but we de-
prive tlurn, in a certain degree, of the chance of
obtaining happiness in a state of immortality.
For as ignorance is the parent of vice, and as
vicious propensities and iuilulgencies necessarily
lead to misery, both here and hereafter, the man
rvhose mind is left to grope amidst intellectual
darkness, can enjoy no well-founded li0[)c of
felicity in the life to come, since he is unqualified
for the associations, the contemplations, and the
employments of that future existence. As in the
material creation, light was the tirst substance
created before the chaos was reduced to beauty
and order, so, in the intellectual world, know-
ledge, or light in the understanding, is the tirst
thing which restores the moral system to harmony
and order. It is the commencement of every pro-
cess that leads to improvement, comfort, and mo-
ral order in this life, and that prepares us for the
enjoyments of the life to come. But ignorance is
both the emblem and the prelude of "the black-
ness of darkness forever." This is one of the
most powerful considerations which should induce
every pliilanthropist to exert every nerve, and to
further every scheme which has for its object to
diffuse liberty, knowledge and moral principle
amonp" all the inhabitants of the earth.

SECTION IX.

On the utility of general knowledge in rela-
■i'on to the study of divine revelation.

C ^ ail the departments of knowledge to which
tha hui lan mind can be directed, there is none of
jjr-'i'ter importance than that which exhibits the
"waJ character and condition of man as a moral
agert— his relation to the Deity — his eternal des-
tiny— the way in which he may be delivered from
the tffects of moral evil — and the worship and
een'ije he ovi'es to his Almighty Creator. On
these and kindred topics, the Christian revelation
affords the most clear and satisfactory information,
and the details which it furnishes on these sub-
jects arc of the highest moment, and deeply inter-
esting to every inhabitant of the glob^. But
ignorance, leagued with depravity and foll)% has
been the cause that the sacred oracles have so
frequently been treated with indifTerence and con-
tempt; and that those who have professed to re-
cogni2e them as the intimations of the will of
Deity have been preveiite.l from studying them
with intelligence, and contemplating the facts
they exhibit in all their consequences and rela-
tions.

In order to a profitable study of the doctrines,
facts and prophecies contained in the Bible, it is
requisite, in the first place, that a deep and tho-
rough conviction be produced in the mind, that
they are indeed the revelations of heaven, addres-
sed to man on earth to direct his views and con-
duct as an accountable agent, and a cani^idate for
immortality. From ignorance of the evidences on
which the truth of Christianity rests, multitudes
of llioughtless mortals have been induced to re-

ject its authority, and have glided aown the stream
of licentious pleasure, "sporting themselves with
their own deceivings," until they landed in
wretchedness and ruin. The religion of the Bi-
ble requires only to be examined with care, and
studied with humility and lovereuce, in order to
produce a full conviction of its celestial oiigin;
and wherever such dispositions are brought into
contact with a calm and intelligent investigation
of the evidences of revelation, and of the I'acts
and doctrines it discloses, the mind will not only
tiiscern its superiority to every oth>r sy tern of
religion, but will perceive the beaut)' and excel-
lence of its discoveries, and the absolute necessi-
ty of their being studied and promulgated in order
to raise the human race from that degradation
into which they have been so long iintnersed, and
to promote the renovation of the moral world.
And, those objections and difficulties which previ-
ously perplexed and harassed the inquirer will
gradually evanish, as the mists of tlie morning
before the orb of day.

The evidences of Christianity have been gener-
ally distributed into the extermil and the inlernai.
The external may again be divided into direct or
collateral. The direct evidences are sucli as arise
from the nature, consistency, and probability of
the facts; and from the simplicity, uniformity,
competency and fidelity of the testimonies by
which they are supported. The collateral eviden-
ces are those which arise from the concurrent tes-
timonies of heathen writers, or others, which
corroborate the history of Christianity and estab-
lish its leading facts. The internal evidences
arise, either from the conformity of the announce-
melits of revelation to the known character of
God, from their aptitude to the frame and cir-
cumstances of man, or from those convictions
impressed upon the mind by the agency of the
Divine Spirit.

In regard to the external evidences, the follow-
ing propositions can be supported both from the
testimonies of profane writers, the Scriptures of
the New Testament, and other ancient Christian
writings; viz: 1. "That there is satisfictory evi-
dence that many professing to be original wit-
nesses of the Christian miracles, passed their lives
iu labors, dangers, and sufferings, voluntarily un-
dergone in attestation of the accounts which they
delivered, and solely in consequence of their be-
lief of those accounts; and that tliey also submit-
ted, from the same motives, to new rules of
conduct." And, 2. "That there is noif siitisfac-
toiy evidence, that persons pretending to be origi-
nal witnesses of any other miracles, have acted in
the same manner, in attestation of the accounts
which they delivered, and solely iu consequence
of their belief of the truth of these accounts."
These propositions can be substantiated to the
conviction of every serious and unbiased inqui-
rer; they form the basis of the external evidence
of the Christian religion; and, when their truth
is clearly discerned, the mind is irresistibly led to
the conclusion, that the doctrines and fads pro-
mulgated by the first propagators of Christianity
are true.

The following propositions can also be satisfac-
torily proved, viz: That the Jewish religion is of
great antiquity, and that Moses was its founder —
that tlie books of the Old Testament were extant
long before the Christian era; a Greek translation
of them having been laid up in the Alexandrian
!ibrar\- in the days of Plolemy Philadelphus — that
these books are in the main genuine, and (he his-
tories they contain worthy of credit — that many
material facts which are recorded in the Old Tei-

92

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

tameiit are also menlione.l by very ancient hea-
then wrilors — that Chriniuuiiy ii not a modern
relijrion, hut was prol'ess>}il by great niallitudes
neuriy 18J0 years ago — that Jesus Christ, the
fonnJer of this religion, was criiciticd at Jerusa-
lem thuiiig the reiga of Tiberius Ca;-sar — tiiat the
first publishers of this r.'ligiou wroie books con-
tainij'.g an account of the lilc and doctrines of
their muster, several of which bore the names of
those books which now make up the New Testa-
iMitf — tiiat these books were fri-quciitly quoted
and re'orre I to by numerous wiiters I'ro.ii the
days ol the apostles to the Iburtii century and
downw.irJ — tiiat tiiey are genuine, or written by
tlie auihors whose names tliey bear — that the
histories tiiey contiiin are in tlie main agreeable
to tliose facts wliich were asserted by tiie first
preacliers and received by the first converts to
Christianity — that the facts, whether natural or
Bupernalural, which they record, are transmitted
to us with as great a degree of evidence (if not
greater) as any historical fact recorded by histori-
ans of allowed character and reputation — and
that tlu'33 books were written under a superinten-
dent iiitpiration. These, and a variety of siiiiilar
prouo.silioas intimately connected with them can
be fully substantiated; and the necessary conclu-
Bion oi the wiiole is, that Christianity is a revela-
tion from God to man, and that its truths are to
be bilieved, and its precepts practiced by all to
who: a they are addressed.

Miracles form one part of the external evidence
by vvhicli revealed religion is supported. If Go.l,
iu compassion to our benighteu and bewildered
race, has thought fit to communicate a revelation
of his will, th.eie is no conceivable mode by which
that revelation could be more powerfully attested,
than by empowering the messengers whom he
inspired to work miracles, as attestu'iions of the
truth of the doctrines they declared. Accord-
ingly we find, that at the introduction both of the
Jewish and the Cliristiau dispensations, a series
of uncontrolled uiTrdcles was exhibited to those to
whom the messengers of revelation were sent, as
evidences that tiiey acted under the autliority
of the Creator of the universe. Under the aa-
miniitrution of Moses, who founded the Jewish
economy, the waters of Egypt were turned into
blood, darkness covered all that country for three
days, thunders and hail terrified its inhabitants
and destroyed the fruits of their ground, and all
their first-born were slain by a celestial messenger
in one nigiit — the Red Sea was parted asunuer,
the tribes of Israel passed in safety through its
waves, while their enemies " sank as lead in the
migiity waters ; " water was brought from the
flinty rock, manna from heaven was rained down
to supply tile wants of two miiiions of human be-
ings in a barren wilderness; mount Sinai was
rnade to tremble to its center, and was surrounded
with tl imes and smoke ; Korah, Dathan,and Abi-
ram, with all the thousancs that joined their con-
spiracy, were by a miraculous earthquake swal-
lowed up iu a moment; Jordan was divided when
its waters overflowed its banks, and at the sound
of horns the strong walls of Jericho fell pro5itrate
lo the ground. When Jesus Christ introduced
tile gospel dispensation, he gave incontrovertible
proofs of his uiviiie mission, by curing diseases of
every description merely by his word, causing
the lame to walk, the deaf to hear, the dumb to
speak, and the blind to see ; raising the dead to
life, stiliiiig the tempe.stuous waves and the stormy
wind ; tnriang wat-^r into wine, feeding five thou-
sand men in a wilderness on a few loaves anJ
fiahes; and, particularly, by his own resurrection

from the dead, after he had been " evucifiod and
slain." These, as well as the miracles wrought
by Moses, were demonstrative evidences of the
agency and interference of the Most High ; they
were completely beyond the power of mere hu-
man agency, and were altogether dilFerent from
the tricks of jugglers and impostors. They were
performed in the open face of day, in the presence
of multitudes of persons of every description;
they were level to the comprehension of every
man whose faculties and senses were in a sound
state; and the conclusion which 'every unbiased
mind behooved to draw from them, was, that "no
man could do such miracles unless God was with
him;" and, consequently, that the truths de-
clared by those who were empowered to perform
them, are the revelations of heaven; for it would
be inconsistent with the nature of the Divine Be-
ing to suppose, that he would interpose his al-
mighty power to control the laws of nature, for
the purpose of giving his sanction to falsehood or
imposture.

Of the reality of the miraculous events to which
I have alludeU, we have as high a degree of evi-
dence as we have for the reality of any other fact
recorded in the scriptures or in the history of the
world. The single fact of the resurrectiun of
Chri-it, a fact so important in the Christian system,
and with which all its other facts and doclrinea
are essentially connected, rests upon a weight of
evidence so great that the rejection of it would be
almost equivalent to the adoption of universal
skepticism. This fact does not rest upon the tes-
timony of an unknown individual, or even of an
unknown multitude, but on the twelve apostles
who had been previously chosen for this purpose,
who had accompanied their Master in all his
journeys, who had been the witnesses of hia
miracles, sufterings, and crncifi.xion, and who
affii-med, without the least hesitation, and in the
face of every threatening and persecution, that
they had seen him alive at different times, and
held intimate converse with him after he had
risen from the dead. It rests likewise on the tes-
tijnony of the seventy disciples, and on that of
the five hundred brethren who had seen the Lord
after his resun-ection. These persons had full
opportunity of information as to tlie fact they
asserted; they could not be deceived, for it was
brought within the evidence of their senses.
They saw the body of the Lord Jesus after he
had been crucified and laid in the tomb — not with
a passing glance, but at different times and in
divers places; they had an opportunity of handling
it to convince them it v/as no phantom; they heard
liira speak, and entered into intimate conversa-
tion with him on the subject of their future mi-
nistry. They saw him, not only separately, but
together; not only by night, but by day; not at
a aistaiice, but immediately before them. And
as they could not be deceived themselves, they
could have no motive for deceiving others; for
they were aware that, by so doing, they exposea
themselves to scorn, persecution, sufieriiigs, and
death itself, without the most distant hojie of re-
compense either in this world or in anotiier.
Their character and conduct were strictly watched
and scrutinized. Their enemies had taken every
precaution which human wisdom could devise, to
prevent the dead body of their Master from l)eiiig
removed from the sepulcher, either by fraud or
by violence, and to secure the public from being
deluded by any attempt at imposture. And yet,
only a few days after he was buried, and in the
very place where he was crucified, his resurrec-
tion was publicly asserted and pro^ilaimed: and

EVIDENCE FROM PROPHECY.

no attempt was made on the pari of tlic Jewish
rulers to invalidate the testimony of the apostles,
by prociiiciiig the dead body of him wlioin tliey
had criicilied — on wliose tomb they liad set a seal
and a guard of Roman soldiers. For it is evi-
dent, tliat if his body could have been found, they
would have produced it as the shortest and must
decisive confutation of tiie story of the n.^surrec-
tion. All these circumstances being considered,
to suppose tliat the apostles either were deceived,
or attempted to deceive the world, would be to
admit a miracle as great as that of the resurrec-
tion itself. But if the fact of Chrii^l's resurrec-
tion be admitted, the truth of the evangelical
history and of tho doctrines of Christianily fol-
lows as a necessary consequence.

Prophecy forms another branch of the external
evidences of religion. As God alone can per-
ceive with certainty the future actions of free
cigents, and the remote consequences of those
laws of nature which he himself established —
prophecy, when clearly fulfilled, affords the most
convincing evidence of an intimate a!id super-
natural communion between God and the person
who uttered the prediction. It is evident, how-
ever, that i)rophecy was never intended as an evi-
dence of an original revelation. From its very
nature it is totally unfit for such a purpose, be-
cause it is impossible, without some extrinsic
proof of its divine origin, to ascert-dn whether
any prophecy be true or false, until the period ar-
rive when it ought to be accomplished. But
when it is fulfilled, it affords complete evidence,
that he who uttered it spake by the spirit of God,
and that the doctrines he taught were dictated by
the same spirit, and, consequently, true. To us,
therefore, who live in an age posterior to the ful-
fillment of many of the ancient prophecies, and
while some of them are actually accomplisliing,
the fulfillment of these predictions forms a power-
ful and striking evidence of the divine authority
of the writers both of the Old and the New Tes-
tament.

The first prophecy which was given forth in
the garden of Eden, that " the seed of the woman
should bruise the head of the serpent," and the
predictions of the Jewish prophets respecting the
appearance, the miracles, the sufferings, the death,
resurrection, and subsequent glory of Messiah,
and the opposition he was to endure from the
people to whom he was sent, were literally ac-
complished, when Jesus Christ appeared in the
world; and the narrations of the evangelists
may be considered as a commenta;;y upon these
ancient prophecies. The deliverance of the Jews
from the Babylonish captivity, and its accom-
plishment by Cyrus, — the conquest of Egypt by
Nebuchadnezzar, foretold by Jeremiah, — the suc-
cession of the Assyrian, Persian, Grecian, and
Ronwn monarchies, — the perseculion of tlie Jews
undei Ai'.tiochus Epiphanes, and the erection of
the papal kingdom foretold by Daniel, — and the
destruction of Jerusalem and the dreadful miseries
which should befall its inhabitants, foretold by
Jesus Christ, have all received their accompli^=h-
ment, according to the spirit and import of the
original predictions, and this accomplishment is
embodied in the history of nations.

But there are prophecies which were uttered
several thousands of years ago, of the accomplish-
ment of which we have sensible evidence at tiic
present moment, if we look around us and con-
sider the state of the nations and empires of the
vorld. For example, it was prophesied resj)eet-
ing Ishmael, the son of Abraham, " that he should
be a 7( Id man; that his hand should be against

every man, and every man's hand against him;
that he should dwell in the presence of all hiB
brethren; that he should be multiplied exceed-
ingly, beget twelve princes, and become a great
luiiion." This prediction has been lileially ac-
comj)lished in the Arabs, the undoubted descen-
dants of Ishmael, who for time immemori;d, have
been robbers by land and pirates by sea; and
though their hands have been against every man,
and every man's hand against them, they have
always dwelt, and at this clay, still dv/ell, in " th^
presence of their brethren," a free and indepen-
dent people. The greatest conquerors in the
world have attempted to subdue them, but their
attempts unii'ormly failed of success. When
they appeared on the brink of ruin, they were
signally and providentially delivered. Alexander
was preparing an expedition against them, when
he was cut oti in the flower of his age. Pompey
was in the career of his conquest, when urgent
affairs called him to another quarter. Gallius
had penetrated far into their country, when a fa-
tal disease destroyed great numbers of his men,
and obliged him to return. Trajan besieged their
capital city; but was defeated by thunder, and
lightning, and whirlwinds. Severus besieged tho
s.-yiie city twice, and was twice repelled from be-
fore it. Even the Turks have been unable to sub-
due the Arabs, or even to restrain their depreda-
tions; and they are obliged to pay them a sort of an-
nual tribute for the sufe passage of the pilgrims who
go to Mecca to pay their devotions. The curs'!
pronounced upon Ham, the father of Canaan,
could also be shown to have been signally accom-
plished in the case of the Canaanites, and the
Africans, their descendants, who have been lite-
rally " a servant of servants to their brethren."
They were under the dominion, first of the Ro-
mans, then of the Saracens, and now of the
Turks. And in what ignorance, barbarity, sla-
very, and misery do most of them remain? Many
thousands of them are every year bouglit and
sold, like beasts in the jnarkct, and conveyed from
one quarter of the world to do the work of bea-sts
in another. The present state of Babylon is also
a striking accomplishment of the denunciations
of ancient prophecy. When we consider the vast
extent and magnificence of that ancient city,
"the glory of kingdoms and the beauty of the
Chaldee's excellency," we should have thought it
almost impossible that it should have become "an.
utter desolation," that "the wild beasts should
cry in its desolate houses, and dragons in its plea-
sant palace," and that " it should never be inha-
bited nor dwelt in from generation to generation,"
as the prophet Isaiah had foretold, several hun-
dreds of years prior to its destruction, and when
it was flourishing in the bight of its glory.*
Yet we know for certain, that this once magnj-
ficient metropolis, whose hanging gardens were
reckoned one of the seven wonders of the world,
has become so complete a desolation, that the be-
som of destruction has left scarcely a single trace
of its former grandeur; and it is a subject of dis-
pute among travelers, whether the exact site on
which it was built be yet ascertained.

In short, the present state of the Jews, com-
pared with ancient predictions, is one of the most
striking and convincing proofs of the literal ful-
fillment of the Old Testament prophecies. The
following prediction respecting them was uttered
more than 1700 years before the commencement
of the Christian era: "The Lord shall scatter thee
among all people from the one end of the earth

♦ Isaiah xiii. 19-22.

94

ON TflE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

even unto the other. And amonjj those nations
shall thou find no ease, neither siiall the sole of
tliy fool have rest, but the Lord shall give thee a
troinL)liiig heart, and failing of eyes, and sorrow
cr niial." — "And thou slialt become an aston-
ishincut, a proverb, and a by-word among all the
iialiotis whither the Lord shall lead you."* Tiie
wuole hiilory of the Jewish nation since the de-
slruclioa of Jerusalem, as well as Ihe present state
of tliat singular people, forms a striking com-
menlury upon these ancient predictions, and
siiows, liiat they had been fully and literally ac-
coaipiished. The Jews, it is well known, have
been dispersed almost over the whole face of the
globe for more than seventeen hundred years;
they have been despised and hated by all nations;
they have suffered the most cruel persecutions;
" th'^ir life has hung in doubt before them, and
they have feared day and night," both for tiieir
property and their lives; they have been sold in
multitudes, like cattle in the market; they have
been exposed on public theaters, to exhibit fights,
or be devoured by wild beasts. So strong were
popular prejudices and suspicions aguinst them,
that in the year 1348, on suspicion of their having
poiii uied the springs and wells, a million and a
half of them were cruelly massacred. In 1.492,
500,003 of them were driven out of Spain, and
150,000 from Portugal, and even at the present
moment they are, in most places, subjected both
to civil incapacities and unchristian severities.
Yet, notwithstanding the hatred and contempt in
which they are held, wherever they appear, they
are most obstinately tenacious of the religion of
their fathers, although their ancestors were so
prone to apostatize from it; and although most
of them seem to be utter strangers to piety, and
pour contempt on the moral precepts of their own
law, they are most obstinately attached to the
ceremonial institutions of it, burdensome and in-
convenient as they are. They have never been
amalgamated with any of the nations among
wliicii they dwelt; they remain a distinct people,
notwithstanding their numerous dispersions; their
numbers are not diminished; and, were they col-
lected into one body, they would form a nation
as numerous and powerful as in the most flourish-
ing periods of the Jewish commonwealth. The
existence of the Jews in such circumstances, as a
distinct nation, so contrary to the history of every
other nation, and to the course of human affairs
in similar cases, may justly be considered as a.
standing miracle for the truth of divine revelation.
Such a scene in the conduct of the divine govern-
ment, cannot be paralleled in the history of any
other people on the face of the earth; and their
being permitted so long to survive the dissolution
of their own state, and to continue a distinct na-
tion, is doubtless intended for tiie accomplishment
of another important prediction, viz: that " they
may return and seek the Lord their God, and
David their king, and fear the Lord and his good-
ness in the latter days." In the present day, we
perceive a tendency toward this wished- for con-
summation. Within these last thirty years, a
greater number of Jews has been converted to
the profession of the Christian faith than had
happened for a thousand years before. And when
they shall he collected from all the regions in
which they are now scattered, and brought to the
acknowledgment of Jesus Christ as the true Mes-
wah, and to submission to his laws, and reinstated
either in their own land or in some other portion

* Dent. ch. xiviii

of tho globe, such an event will form a sensible
demonstration of the divinity of our religion,
level to the comprehension of all nations, ar.d
which all the sneers and sophisms of skeptics and
infidels will never be able to withstand.

'I'he internal evidences of Christianity are those
which are deduced from the nature of the facf-s,
doctrines and moral precepts which it rcvrals, and
from the harmony and consistency of all its
parts. The following is a brief summary of tlie
leading views which may be taken of this 8ub«
ject.

1. The. di'jmty and majesty of the style in which
many portions of the Scriptures are written, and
the sublimity of many of the ideas and sentiments
they contain, are strong presumptions of their
divine original. This is strikingly exhibited in all
those cases in which the perfections and opera-
tions of the Deity are brought into view, as in
such passages as the following, — " He hangeth
the earth upon nothing; he bindeth up the waters
in his thick clouds; he hath compassed the waters
with bounds, until the day and night ccine to an
end; the pillars of heaven tremble and are aston-
ished at his reproof. He divideth the sea by his
great power; by his spirit he hath garnished the
heavens. Lo, these are only parts of his ways,
but how little a portion is heard of him, and tho
thunder of his power who can comprehend?" —
" By the word of the Lord were the heavens made;
he spake and it was done, he commanded and it
stood fast." "Great is Jehovah and of great
power, his greatness is unsearchable, his under-
standing is infinite; marvelous things doth ho
which we cannot comprehend." "I'he heaven,
even the heaven of heavens cannot contain him;
he hath prepared his throne in the heavens, and
his kingdom ruleth over all. He doth according
to his will in the army of heaven and among the
inhabitants of the earth, and none cun stay his
hand, or say unto liim, what dost thou?" " VVho
hath measured the ocean in the hollow of his
hand, and meted out heaven with a span, and
comprehended the dust of the earth in u measure,
and weighed the mountains in scales and the hills
in a balance. Who hath directed the spirit of the
Lord, or being his counselor hath taught him?
Behold, the nations are as a drop of a bucket, and
are counted as the small dust of the balance. Be-
hold, he taketh up the isles as a very little thing.
All nations before him are as nothing, and they
are counted to him less than nothing and vanity."
These, and many similar passages to be found in
the sacred writings, far surpass, in dignity of lan-
guage and sublimity of sentiment, everything thaf
is to be found in the writings of the most cele-
brated poets and philosophers of Greece and
Rome. If we take the most animated poems of
Homer, Virgil, or Horace, and read them in a
prose translation, as we do the Scriptures, they
appear flat and jejune, and their sjjirit U almost
evaporated; and the words they put into the
mouths of their diities, and the actions they
ascribe to them, are frequently both riiiculous
and absurd, calculated to excite hatred and con-
tempt, instead of adoration and reverence. But
the Scriptures preserve their sub!in:ity and glory
even in the most literal translation, and such a
translation into any language is always found to
be the best; and it has uniformly hapi)ened, that
those who have presumed to high ten the expres-
sions by a poetical translation or paraphrase, have
failed in the attempt. It indicates an ulter want
of true taste in any man to despise or un tervalue
these writings. Were it not that the sacred pen-
men lay claim to the inspiration of the Almighty,

MORAL LAWS OF REVELATION.

95

anJ, consequently, set themselves in direct oppo-
sition to priJe, bscivionsness, revenge, und every
otlier uuliuly principle and passion, tlie hible, in
point cf the beauty and sublimily of its senti-
ments, iinJ tlie variety of iuteresliiig information
it couveya, would be prized more liiglily by every
man of taste than all the other writings either of
poets, philosophers or historians, which have de-
scended to us from the remotest ages of anti-

a. The Cliristian religion exhibits the most ra-
tional, siihliine, and consistent vines of the Dioine
Bei.ii/. It represents him as self existent and
in;.ependent, and as "the high and lofty One
who iiihuliited eternity," before the universe was
brought inio existence, in whose sight "a thou-
sand years are as one day, and one day as a thou-
sand years." It represents him as filling the im-
mensity of space with his presence, as having the
most intimate knowledge of all creatures and
events throughout the vast creation, as the Crea-
tor of heaven and earth, as possessed of uncon-
trollaiile power, infinite wisdom and intelligence,
bour...lcss benevolence and mercy, perfect recti-
tude aud lioliness, and inviolable faithfulness and
truth. It represents his providential care as ex-
tending to all the creatures he has formed, and to
all tlieir movements, however numerous or mi-
nute; animating the vegetable and animal tribes,
setting bounds to the raging billows, "thundering
marveiously vifith his voice, sending lightnings
with rain," having "his way in the wliirlwind
and the storm," making " the earth to quake at
his presence," shining in the stars, glowing in the
sun, and moving with his hands the mighty
'worlds which compose the universe. It repre-
sents him as governing the universe of minds
whicli ho- has formed, as having the " hearts" and
purposes " of all men in his hand," and as direct-
'ing all the mysterious and wonderful powers of
knowledge- and moral action to fulfill his purposes
throughout the whole extent of his immense and
eternal empire. ISuch a bviiig, when properly
contempl.iied, is calculated to draw forth the love
and adoration of all rational beings; and wherever
Christianity has imparted a knowledge of these
attributes of the divinity, idolatry and supersti-
tion, with all their absuniities, abominations, and
horrid cru-hi-i'S, have gradually disappeared.

3. Chri.stiuiity has given us full assurance of
the iinmr.rtality of man and of a future state of pun-
ishments and rewards. Nothing can be of more
importance to every human being than to be as-
sured of his eternal destination. Without the
discoveries of Christianity, we can attain to no
absolute certainty on this momentous sulijexf.
The greatest philosophers of the heathen world
considered the arguments in favor of man's im-
mortal destiny as amounting only to a certain
degree of probability, and their minds were con-
tinually iiangiug in doubt and uncertainty, as to
what might befall them at the hour of dissolu-
tion. Tiie most powerful arguments in proof of
a future retribution, are founded on the justice,
the benevolence, and the wisdom of the Deity;
but it is questionable whether we should ever
have acquired clear conceptions of thefij attri-
butes of the Divinity without the aid of the reve-
lations of the Bible. On this most important
point, however, Christianity dissipates every ob-
scurity, d;spels every doubt, and sets the doctrine
of "life and immortality" beyond the grave, iu
the clearest light, not by metaphysical reasonings,
unintelligible to the bulk of mankind, but by the
positive '.ieclarations of him who hath "all power
in heaven and on earth." It gives full assurance

to all who devote themselves to the service of
God, and conform to his will, that ''when iheir
earthly tabernacles are dissolved, they have a
buikling of God, a house not made with hands,
eternal in the heavens;" and that "the afilic-
tions" to which they are now exposed "work out
for them an eternal weight of glory." And, to
console tliem in the prospect of dro])ping their
bodies into the grave, they are assured, tliat the
period is approaching, when their mortal frame
"shall put on inmiortality," and when "all who
arc in tlieir graves shall hear the voice of the Son
of God, and shall come forth, they that have done
good to the resurrection of life, and they that have
uone evil to the resurrection of condemnation "

4. Christianity clearly points out the way by
which pardon of sin may be obtained by the guilty.
Reason discovers that man is guilty, and at tho
same time perceives that a sinner clesei-ves pun-
ishment. Hence, tlio remorse ai;d the fears with
which the consciences of sinners in every age
have been tormented. " Wherewithal shall I come
before the Lord? Shall I come with thousands
of burnt offi-'iings? Shall I offer m.y first-born
for my transgressions, the fruit of my body
for the sin of my soul?" are the anxious inqui-
ries of every sinner who feels conscious that he
has violated the laws of Heaven. Hence, the
numerous modes by which Pagan nations have
attempted to appease the wrath of their deities;
hence, their sacrifices, their burnt-offerings, their
bodily tortures, their human victims, and tho
rivers of blood which have flowed in their tem-
ples and upon their altars. But reason could
never prove, that by any of these modes sin
could be expiated, and the Deity rendered propi-
tious. Christianity alone unfolds the plan of re-
demption, and the way by which guilty m<-n may
obtain forgiveness and acceptance iu the sigiit of
Him whose laws they have violated. It declares,
"that Christ Jesus died for our offenses, and rose
again for our justification;" that "God hath set
him fortli as a propitiation to declare his righteous-
ness iu the remission of sins," and that, having
made so costly a sacrifice for the sins of the world,
he will refuse nothing that can contribute to the
present and everlasting happiness of the believer
in Jesus. "He who spared not his own Son, but
delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with
him also freely give us all things?" Sucii decla-
rations, when cordially received, are sufiicient to
allay all the fears of a guilty conscience, to in-
spire the soul with holy love and gratitude, and
to produce "a peace of mind that passeth all un-
derstanding."

5. Christianity inculcates the purest and most
compreheiisice system of morality. Its moral requi-
sitions are all comprehended undi-r the two fol-
lovv'ing rules or principles, "Thou slialt love the
Lord thy God wftli all thy heart," an<l "thou shall
love thy neighbor as thyself," which diverge into
numberless ramifications. It could easily be
shown, that these principles are snfil'ient to form
the basis of a moral code for the ^^•llo!e intelligent
creation, that they are calculat:d to unite the
creature to the Creator, and all rational beings
with one another, wherever they may exist
throughout the boundless empire of the Almighty;
and that peace, order, and happiness would be the
invariable and necessary results wherever their
influence extended. If tho love of God reigned
supreme in every heart, there woul.l be no super-
stition or idolatry in the universe, nor any of the
crimes and abominations with whieli they have
hiHui accompanied in our world, — no blasphemy
or profanation of the name of Jehovah, — no per-

96

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE

jury, liypocrisy, arrosrunce, priil(?, ingratitude,
nor muriiuiriiigs uudor the allotments of Divine
ProviJeiice. And, if every moral iutellijrenco
loved Ills fi'Uow-croatures ys himself, there wonld
be no riv.dships and antipalhi.'s between nations,
and, consequ'Mitly, no wars, devastation, nor car-
nage,— no tyranny, luiughtiness, or o|)[)res.-iion
among the great, nor envy, di;-content, or insnb-
ordiiiution anicng the lower classes of society, —
no syst^ns of slavery, nor persecutions on ac-
count of religious opinions, — no murders, thefts,
robberies, or assassinations, — no treaciierous
friendsliijis, nor fraud and deceit in commercial
transaciioas, — no implacable resentments among
friends an. I relatives, and no ingratitude or diso-
bedience among cliilaren or s-rvants. On the
other iiand, meekness, long suffering, gentleness,
huraiiity, temperance, fidelity, brollierly kind-
ness, and sacred joy, would pervade every heart,
and transform our world from a scene of conten-
tion and misery to a moral paradise. The com-
prehensive nature of these laws or princi])les, and
their tendency to produce universal order and
happiness among all intelligences, form, therefore,
a strong presumptive argument of their divine
original.

There are certain Christian precepts, different
from ail that were ever taught by the sag(!s of the
Pagan world, and in direct opposition to their
most favorite maxims, which might be shown to
have the same beneficial tendency. For example,
it is one of the precepts laid down by the Founder
of our religion, "Resist not evil, but whosoever
shall smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him
the other also," &c.; and in accordance with this
precept he propounds the following, "Love your
enemies, do good to them tiiat hate you, and pray
for them who despitefuUy use you and persecute
you." And he enforces it by one of the most
sublime and beautiful motives, " That ye may be
the children of your Father who is in heaven, for
he makcth the sun to rise on the evil and on the
good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the un-
just." Now, these precepts of morality are not
only original, and peculiar to the Christian sys-
tem, but they are in direct opposition to all the
virtues generally denominated heroic, and which
are so much celebrated by the poets, philosophers,
and historians of antiquity. While the annals of
history proclaim, that the exercise of the heroic
virtues (among which are classed implacability
and revenge), has banished peace from the world,
and covered the earth with devastation and blood-
shed, it could easily be shown, that were the vir-
tues inculcated by our Saviour universally prac-
ticed, there would not be an enemy on the face
of the globe, wars would cease to the ends of the
earth, and the whole world would form one vast
community of friends and brethren. Whereas,
were the opposite dispositions universal, and un-
controlled by any counteracting principle, they
would produce a scene of universal contention
and misery throughout t!ie moral universe. — An-
other disposition peculiar to the Christian system,
and wliich is enforced throughout both the Old and
the New Testament, is humiUtij. So little was
this disposition regarded by the ancient heathen
world, that, in the classical languages of Greece
and Rome, there is no word to denote the virtue
of humility. It is a quality, however, which re-
sults so naturally out of the relation in which
man stands to his Maker, and is so correspondent
to the low rank which he holds in the scale of
universal being, that the religion which so pow-
erfully enjoins it may be said to have " a sign
from heaven " that it proceeds from God. And,

in hi.s intercourses in society, a man will always
find, that there is a far higner degree of quiet and
satisfaction to be enjoyed, by humbling liimselfi
than by endeavoring to humble others; for every
arrogant and luuigiity spirit will uniformly smart
under the feelings of wounded pride, and disap-
pointed ambition.

The Christian virtues to which I have now ad-
verted, ought not to be considered as the charac-
teristics of a mean and unmanly spirit, or as con-
trary to the dignity and energy of the human
character. Tue apostles and first Christians, who
uniformly practiced these virtues, were ci.stin-
guished by undaunted fortitude and almost unpa-
ralleled intrej)idity. They advocated their cause,
before princes and rulers, with the utmost dignity
and composure; they were ready to stillL-r the
greatest persecutions, and even the most excru-
ciating torments, rather than betray the sacred
cause in which they had embarked; and one of
them had the boldness, when brought before the
Roman governor as a prisoner, to arraign the very
vices for which he was notorious, and to make
the profligate judge tremble in his presence.* So
far from these virtues being mean or unmanly, they
are the principal qualities that are justly entitled to
the epithet heroic; for they are the most difficult
to be acquired and sustained, as they run counter
to the general current of human passion and feel-
ing, and to tjll the corrupt propensities of trie na-
ture of man. A man may have sufficient hero-
ism to bombard a town, or to conquer an army,
and yet be altogether unable to regulate his tem-
per, or subdue his boisterous passions. But, " he
that is slow to anger, is better than the mighty,
and he that ruletli his spirit than he that takelh a
city." In the one case, we strive against the cor-
rupt aflfections of our nature, in the otUcr (as in
giving vent to implacability and revenge), wo
give loose reins to our malignant passions. In the
one case, we struggle against the stream, in order
to obtain safety and repose; in tlie other, we al-
low ourselves to be hurried along with the cur-
rent, regardless of the rocks against which we
may be dashed, or the whirlpools in which we
may be engulfed. In proportion, then, as the
Christian virtues prevail in any community, will
quarrels and contentions, and everything de-
structive of human enjoyment, be effectually pre-
vented, and happiness diffused among all ranks
of society.

In short, Christianity, in its moral requisitions,
enjoins every rehtive and reciprocal duty between
parents and children, masters and servants, hus-
bands and wives, governors and subjects; and, not
only enforces the practice of justice and equity in
all such relations, but inspires the most sublime
and extensive charity, — a boundless and disinter-
ested effusion of tenderness for the whole .species,
which feels for their distress, and operates for
their relief and improvement. It prescribes no
self-denial, except with regard to sinful lusts and
depraved passions; no mortification, except of
the evil affections; it gives full scope to every
feeling that contributes to the real enjoyment of
life, while it guards, by the most awful sanctions,
every duty the observance of which is necessary
for our present and future happiness. It extends
our views beyond the limits of the present slate,
and shows us, that the future happiness of man
is connected with his present conduct, and that
every action of our lives should have a reference
to that immortal existence to which we are des-
tined. But it never insinuates, that earth an<J

* Acts xxiv, 25.

BENEFICIAL EFFECTS OF CHRISTIAxNTITY.

heaven are opposed to each other, as to their du-
ties auil enjoyments, or that we must be misera-
ble here, in order to be happy hereafter. For
while it prescribes rules whicii have for their ulti-
laato object our happiness in a future world, the
observance of these rules is calculated to secui-c
our highest enjoj^mcnt even in the present lil'e;
and every one who has devoted himself to the
practice of genuine Christianity has uniformly
found, that " godliness is profitable unto ail things,
haviiig the promise both of the life that now is, and
of that which is to come." On the characteris-
tics of the moral code of Christianity, tlien, I
should scarcely hesitate to rest almost the whole
of the internal evidence of its divine original. —
For laws, which have a tendency to unite in a
bond of affectionate union the whole intelligent
creation, — which, if practiced, would undermine
every species of moral evil, and promote peace
and happiness over all the earth, and which are
equally calculated to produce true enjoyiRicnt in
this world, and to prepare us for the higher felici-
ties of the world to come, — must have had their
origin in the mind of that Almighty Being whose
omniscient eye perceives all the elRcts of every
principle of action, and all the relations which
subsist throughout the moral universe.

6. Christianity explains certain moral pheno-
mena, which would otherwise have been inexpli-
cable, and affords strong consolation under the
evils of life. It throws a light on the origin of
evil, and the disorders both of the pljysical and
moral world, by informing lis, that man has lost
his original happiness and integrity, that the eartis
has been defiled by his sin and rebellion, and that
it is no longer the beautiful and magnificent
fabric whicli it appeared during the period of jiri-
meval innocence. On -the same ground, it dis-
covers the reason, why death has been permitted
to enter our terrestrial system, and the cause of
all those afflictions and calamities to which man-
kird are subjected. It presents before us princi-
ples, sutficient to explain most of the apparent
irregularities and mysterious operations which
appear in the moral government of the Almighty, —
why storms and tempests, earthquakes and volca-
noes are permitted to produce their ravages, — why
the wicked so frequently enjoy prosperity, while
the virtuous groan under the pressure of adver-
sity,— why tyrannj' is established and vice en-
throned, while virtue is despised, and love to truth
and rigliteousness sometimes exposes its votary to
intolerable calamities. All such occurrences, un-
der the government of God, are accounted for on
these general principles, — that they fulfill his
counsel, — that they are subservient to the accom-
plishment of some higher designs of which we
are partly ignorant, and that the justice and
equity of liis procedure will be full)' displayed
and vindicated in the future world, v.here "every
man will be rewarded according to his works."
And as Christianity explains the cause of the
physical and moral evils which exist in our world,
10 it affords strong consolation to the minds of its
votaries under tlie afilictions to which they are
now exposed. For, what is death to that mind
which considers immortality as the career of its
existence? What are the frowns of fortune to
him who claims an eternal world as his inherit-
ance? What is the loss of friends to that heart
which feels that it shall quickly rejoin them in a
more intimate and permanent intercourse than
any of which the present life is susceptible? —
What are the changes and revolutions of earthly
things to a mind whicli uniformly anticipates a
state of unchangeable felicity? As earth is but a

Vol. I.— 7

point in the universe, and time but a moment in
iniinitc duration, such are the hopes of tlie Ciiris-
tian in comparison to every sublunary misfortune.

7. Revelation communicates to us a know-
ledge of facts and doctrines which we could not
otherwise have acquired. It informs us, that the
Deity existed alone innumerable ages before Timt
began — that the material universe was brought
into existence at his command, and by the exer-
tion of his Almighty power — and that the earth,
in its present jorm, had no existence at a period
seven thousand years beyond the present. It in-
forms us of the manner in which this globe wa.s
first peopled, of the primeval state of its first in-
habitants, of their fall from tiie state of inno-
cence and jjurity in which they were at first crea-
ted, of the increase of wickedness which followed
the entrance of sla into the world, of the Deluge
which swept awaj' its inhabitants, and of which
the most evident traces are still visible on the
surface, and in the bowels of the earth, — and of
the manner in which Noah and his family were
preserved from this universal destruction, for the
re-peopling of the world. It informs us of the
time, manner and circumstances in which the va-
rious languages wiiich now exist had their origin —
a subject which completely puzzled all the ancient
philosophers, which they could never explain, and
on wliich no other history or tradition could
tlirow the least degree of light. It unfolds to ua
views of the state of society in the ages that suc-
ceeded tlie deluge, of the countries into which
mankind vv'ere dispersed, and of* the empires which
they founded. It records the history of Abra-
ham, the legislation of Moses, the deliverance of
the tribes of Israel from Egypt, their passage
through the Red-sea, their journejings thrsngh
the deserts of Arabia, under the guidance of the
pillar of cloud and of fire, and their conquest of
the land of Canaan. It informs us of a succes-
sion of prophets that were raised up to announce
the coming of Messiah, and to foretell the ruMaX
remarkable events that were to take place in the
future ages of the world — of the appearance of
Jesus Christ, of the promulgation of his gospel,
and the miraculous effects with which it was ac-
companied. All which events, as explained and
illustrated in the Sacred History, form one grand
series of dispensations which is, in the highest
degree illustrative of the Power, Wisdom, Good-
ness and Rectitude of the Supreme Beiiig, — and
of which no other records can give us any cer-
tain information.

8. The benejicial effects which Christianity has
produced in the uorld constitute a most powerful
evidence of its divinity. One striking effect it
has produced, is, the superior light it has thrown
on the great objects of religion, and the know-
ledge it has communicated respecting its moral
requisitions. Wherever it has been received, it
has completely banished the absurd systems of
polytheism and pagan idolatry, with all the crud
and obscene rites with which they were accom-
panied; and in their place, has substituted a sys-
tem of doctrine and i)ractice, not only pure an(}
rational, but level to tho comprehension of the
lowest class of society. A mechanic or peasant,
instructed in the leading principles of Revelation,
MOW entertains more just and consistent notions
of God, of his perfections, his laws, and the plan
of his universal providence, than the most re-
nowned philosophers of ancient times ever ac-
quired. Christianity has produced an influence
even on the progress of the arts and of rational
science; for wherever it has been established, liiejr
have uniformly followed in its train; and tlie

98

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

latest discoveiies in philosophy, so far from being
repugnant to its doctrines and facts, are in per-
fect consistency with all its revelations, and tend
to illustrate many of its sublime annunciations.
With regard to practice — it has introduced many
virtues which were altogether unknown in the
heathen world. Instead of sottish idolatry, lascivi-
ousness, unnatural lusts, pride, ostentation, and
ambition, it has introduced, among all wlio sub-
mit to its authority, rational piety, huniiiity,
moderation, self-denial, charity, meekness, pa-
tience under affronts and injuries, resignation to
the will of God, brotherly kindness, and active
beneficence. In the first ages of Christianity,
such virtues were eminently conspicuous. — "See,"
said the heathen, "how these Christians love one
another." Lactantius, one of the early Apolo-
gists, was able to say, in the face of his antago-
nists, "Give me a man who is wrathful, mali-
cious, revengeful, and, with a few words of God,
I will make him calm as a lamb; give me one
that is a covetous, niggardly miser, and I will
give you him again liberal, bountiful, and dealing
out of his money by handfuls; give me one that is
fearful of pain and death, and immediately he
shall despise racks and crosses, and the most
dreadful punishments you can invent."

Its influence on communities and nations is no
less evident, in the changes it has introduced in
the circumstances of domestic life, and the barba-
rous practices it has completely abolished. When
it made its way through the Roman empire, it
abolished the unnatural practice of polygamy and
concubinage, reduced the number of divorces, and
mitigated the rigor of ser\'jtude, which, among the
Romans, was cruel and severe — jnasters being
often so inhuman as to remove aged, sick or in-
firm slaves into an island in the Tiber, where
they suffered them to perish without pity or as-
sistance. Polished and polite, as the Romans
have been generally considered, they indulged in
the most barbarous entertainments. They de-
lighted to behold men combating with wild beasts
and with one another; and we are informed by
respectable historians, that the fights o{ gladiators
sometimes deprived Europe of twenty thousand
lives in one month. Neither the humanity of
Titus, nor the wisdom and virtue of Trajan,
could abolish these barbarous spectacles, until the
gentle and humane spirit of the gospel put a tinal
period to such savage practices, and they can
never again be resumed in any nation where its
light is diffused, and its authority acknowledged.
It humanized the barbarous hordes that overturned
the Roman empire, and softened their ferocious
tempers, as soon as they embraced its principles
and yielded to its influence. It civilized, and
^■aised from moral and intellectual degradation,
the wild Irish, and our forefathers the ancient
Britons, who were classed among the rudest of bar-
barians until the time when tliey were converted to
the religion of Jesus; so that the knowledge we
now see diffused around us, the civilization to
which we have advanced, the moral order which
prevails, the beauties which adorn our cultivated
fields, the comforts and decorations connected with
our cities and towns, and the present improved
state of the arts and sciences, may all be con-
sidered as so many of the beneficial effects which
the Christian religion has produced among us.

In our own times, we have beheld effects no
less powerful and astonishing, in the moral revo-
lution which Christianity has lately produced in
Tahiti, and the adjacent islands in the Southern
ocean. In this instance, we behold a people who,
B few years ago, were among the most degraded

of the human race — who were under the influ-
ence of the most cruel superstitions and idola-
tries— who adored the most despicable idols — who
sacrificed on tlifir altars multitudes of human vic-
tims, and were plunged into all the vices and de-
baucheries, and vile abominations v»rhich can de-
base the character of man — we behold them now
transformed into civilized and Christian socie-
ties— their minds enliglitened in the knowledge
of the true God, their tempers molded into the
spirit of the relij>ion of Jesus, — their savage prac-
tices abolished, — industry, peace and moral order
spreading their benign influence on all around,
and multitudes rejoicing in the prospect of s
blessed immort;ility. Where barrenness and deso-
lation formerly prevailed, and where only a few
savage huts appeared, open to the wind and rain^
beautiful villages are now arising, furnished with
all the comforts and accommodations of civilizerf
life. Where pagan altars lately stood, and human
victims were cruelly butcliered, spacious temples
are now erected for tlie worship of " the God and
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ," and semina-
ries for the literarj' and religious instruction of
the young. Where sanguinary battles were
fought, amidst tlie furious yells of savage com-
batants, who. cruelly massacred every prisoner of
war — the voice of rejoicing and of thanksgiving
is nov,- heard ascending to Ileaven from the peace-
able "dwellings of the righteous," — all v/hich ef-
fects have been produced, within less than twenty
j'ears, by the powerful and benign agency of the
Gospel ef peace.*

Even rear itself — the most disgraceful and diabol-
ical practice in which mankind have indulged, and
which will affix an eternal stigma on the human
character — even war has assumed something of
the spirit of mildness and humanity, compared
with the savage ferocity with which it was con-
ducted during the reign of heathenism. Prisonerf
are no longer massacred in cold blood; the con-
quered are spared, and their liberty frequently re-
stored; and, were the principles of Christianity
recognized, and universally acted upon by profess-
ing Christian nations, the spirit of warfare would
soon be wholly exterminated, and Peace would ex-
tend its benign influence over all t'ne kingdoms and
families of the earth. The celebrated Montes-
quieu, in his "Spirit of Laws," has observed,
" The mildness so frequently recommended in the
gofjpel is incompatible with the despotic rage with
which an arbitrary tyrant punishes his subjects
and exercises himself in cruelty. It is the Chris-
tian religion-which, in spite of the extent of em-
pire and the influence of climate, has hindered
despotism from being established in Ethiojiia, and
has carried into Africa the manners of Europe.
The heir to the throne of Ethiopia enjoys a prin-
cipality, and gives to other subjects an example of
love and obedience. Not far from 'hence may be
seen the Mahometan 'shutting up the children
of the king of tfenaar, at whose death the council
sends to murder them, in favor of the prince who
ascends the throne." — " Let us set before our eyes,
on the one hand, the continual massacres of the
kings and generals of the Greeks and Romans,
and on the other, the destruction of people and
cities by the famous conquerors Timnr Beg, and
Jenghis Kan, who ravaged Asia, and we ^Jlall
perceive, that we owe to Christianity in govern-
ment a certain political law, and in war a certain

* For a particalar account of this moral revolntion which
has recently taken place in the Society and other is.ands of
the Pacific, the reader is referred to " Ellis' Polynesian Re
searches," 2 vols. 8vo.

BENEFICIAL EFFECTS OF CHRISTIANITY.

99

law of nations, which allows to the conquered the
great advantages of libertj-, laws, wealth, and al-
ways religion, when the conqueror is not blind to
his own interest."

But Christianity has not only abolished many
barbarous practices, it has likewise given birth to
numerous benevolent institutions and establish-
ments altogether unknown in Pagan countries.
Let us consider the numerous schools for the in-
struction of youth in useful knowledge and in the
principles of religion, which are erected in all
towns and villages in Christian countries, the nu-
merous churches and chapels devoted to the wor-
ship of God, and to tlie instruction and comfort
of individuals of every condition, age, and sex, —
the colleges and academies which have been found-
ed for imparting knowledge in literature, and in
arts and sciences, — the numerous philanthropic
societies which have been formed for the relief of
the aged, the infirm, and the destitute sick, — the
education of the deaf and dumb, — the reformation
of the criminal code, — the improvement of prison
discipline, — the reformation of juvenile offend-
ers,— the aiding of the friendless, the orphan, and
the widow, — the literary and moral instruction of
the children of the poor, — the relief of destitute
imprisoned debtors, — the improvement of the do-
mestic condition of the laboring classes, — the pro-
motion of permanent and universal peace, — the
diffusion of the knowledge of the Christian reli-
gion throughout every region of the globe, and for
various other benevolent purposes, all calculated
to alleviate the distresses of suffering humanity,
to extend the blessings of knowledge, and to com-
municate enjoyment to all ranks of mankind; and
we may challenge the enemies of our religion to
point out similar institutions in any pagan coun-
try \inder he:iven that has never felt the influence
of Christianity. And if such beneficent effects
are the native result of the benevolent and expan-
sive spirit of Christianity, they form a strong pre-
sumptive evidence, independently of any other
consideration, that it derived its origin from that
Almighty Being who is good to all, and whose
"tender mercies are over all his works."

In fine, Christianity is adapted to every country
and eveiy clime. Its doctrines and precepts are
equally calculated to promote the hoppiness of
princes and subjects, statesmen and philosophers,
the high and the low, the rich and the poor. It is
completely adapted to the nature and necessitis^s
of man; its rites are few and simple, and may be
observed in every region of the globe. It forbids
the use of notliing but what is injurious to health
of body or peace of mind, and it has a tendency
to promote a friendly and affectionate intercourse
among men of all nations. And, as it is calcula-
ted for being universally extended, so its prophets
have foretold that its blessings shall ultimately be
enjoyed by all nations. In the period in which
we live, we behold such predictions more rapidly
accomplisliing than in former times, in conse-
quence of the spirit of missionary enterprise
which now pervades the religions world. And
when it shall have extended a little farther in its
progress, and shall have brought a few more king-
doms and islands under its authority, its benefi-
cent effects will be more clearly discerned, and the
evidences of its celestial origin will appear with a
force and power which its most determined adver-
saries will not be able to gainsay or resist.

In proportion as the physical sciences advance,
and the system of nature is explored, will the har-
mony between the operations of the Creator in the
material world and the revelations of his word,
become more strikingly apparent Ever since phi-

losophy began to throw aside its hypothetical as-
sumptions and theoretical reasonings, and to
investigate nature on the broad basis of induction,
its discoveries have been found completely accor-
dant with tWe Scriptures of truth, and illustrative
of many oT the sublime sentiments they contain.
Geolog}', when in its infancy, was eagerly brought
forward by a few skeptical and superficial minds,
to subserve the cause of infidelity. A few pre-
tended facts, of an insulated nature, were trium-
phantly exhibited, as insuperable objections to the
truth of the Mosaic history and chronolog}-. But
later and more accurate researches have completely
disproved the allegations of such skeptical philo-
sophers, and were they now alive, they would feel
ashamed of their ignorance, and of the fallacious
statements by which they attempted to impose on
the credulity of mankind. As geology advances
in its investigations, along with its kindred sci-
ences, the facts which it is daily disclosing appear
more and more corroborative of the description
given in the Bible of the original formation and
arrangement of our globe, and of the universal del-
uge. And, therefore, we have every reason to
conclude, that when science and art shall have ar-
rived at a still higher point of perfection, and our
terrestrial system shall have been more thoroughly
explored throughout all its departments, argu-
ments will be derived from philosophy itself in
support of the divinity of our religion, which will
carry irresistible conviction to every mind.

Such is a very brief summary of the internal
evidences of the Christian religion. It is distin-
guished by the dignity and sublimity of the style
and sentiments of the writings which contain its
revelations, — it exhibits the most rational and con-
sistent views of the attributes of the Divine Be-
ing,— it gives us full assurance of a future state
of immortality, — it points out the way by which
pardon of sin and deliverance from moral evil may
be obtained, — it exhibits the purest and most com-
prehensive system of morality, — it explains certain
moral phenomena which would otherwise have
been inexplicable, — it affords strong consolation
under the evils of life, — it communicates the
knowledge of interesting facts and doctrines which
can be found in no other record, — it has produced
the most beneficial effects on the state of society
wherever it has been received, — it is completely
adapted to the necessities of man, and calculated
for being universally extended over the world; —
to whicli we m.ight have added, that it is consist-
ent in all its parts, when viewed through the me-
dium of enlightened criticism, and harmonizes
with the principles of sound reason, and the dic-
tates of an enlightened conscience. These are
characteristics wliich will apply to no other sys-
tem of religion that was ever proposed to the
world; and if Christianity, accompanied with such
evidences, is not divine in its original, we may
boldly atfirm that there is no other religion known
among men that can lay claim to this high prero-
gative. But v.-e do not think it possible tliat the
mind of man can receive a more convincing de-
monstration of the truth of Christianity than is
set before us in the authentic facts on which it
rests, in its tendency to produce universal happi-
ness, and in the intrinsic excellence for which it
is distinguished. That man, therefore, by what
ever ajipellation he may be distinguished, who sets
himself in opposition to the spirit of this relig en,
and endeavors to counteract its progress, must be
considered as not only destitute of true taste and
of moral excellence, but as an enemy to the hap-
piness of his species. If the religion of the Bible
is discarded, we are left completely in tli<» dark

100

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF lOTOWLEDGE.

with regard to everything tliat is most interesting
to man as an intellectual being, ami as a moral
and accountable agent. We should, in this case,
have the most imperfect conceptions of the attri-
butes (f J3eity, and should know nothing of his
designs in giving us existence, and placing us in
tliis part of his empire, — we should remtun in
ignorance whether the world had a beginning or
had existed from eternity, or wheth;.-r wo sliall
ever have an opportunity of beholding the grand
system of the universe a little more unfolded, —
we should be destitute of any fixed n)oral laws to
direct us in our social transactions and inter-
coui-ses, — we should be entirely ignorant of the
principles and objects of the moral government
of the Almighty, — wo should be destitute of any
consolation under the atttictions and calamities of
life, — we should hang continually in doubt whe-
ther death is to put a final termination to our be-
ing, or convey us to another and an eternal state
of existence; and, at length, we should be plunged
into the gulf of universal skepticism, into which
every rejecter of revelation ultimately sinks.

It may not be improper to remark, that the re-
ligion to whose characteristics I have now ad-
verted, is not to be considered as precisely that
form of Christianity which has been established
in Italy, in Gennany, in Russia, or in Britain; or
as it is professed by Episcopalians, Presbyterians,
Independents, or any other sectary; or as it is ex-
pounded in the catechisms, confessions, or systems
of divinity, which have been published by the dif-
ferent denominations of the Christian world. In
all these cases, its true glory has been obscured,
its beauty defaced, and its purity contaminated,
by passing through the atmosphere of human
folly and coiTuption; and opinions and practices
have been incorporated with its leading principles
altogether repugnant to the liberal and expansive
spirit for which it is distinguished. It is to the
Christianity of the Bible alone to ichich I refer. It
is there alone that it is to be seen in its native
purity, simplicity, and glory; and ho who neglects
,to study the Scriptures, unfettered by the tram-
mels of human systems, will never be able fully
to perceive or to appreciate the true excellence of
that religion, which is "pure and peaceable, full
of mercy and good fruits," and which breathes
"good will toward men." For, in some of the
forms which Christianity has assumed in certain
countries, it has been so much blended with hu-
man inventions, as to be scarcely distingui?;hable
froni heathenism ; and, consequently, in such
cases, it has seldom been accompanied with those
beneficial effects which it is calculated to produce.
And, among almost all the sectaries in every coun-
try, either some of its distinguishing features have
been overlooked, or its doctrines mixed np with
metaphysical dogi^as, or its practical bearings dis-
regarded, or opinions respecting its forms and cir-
cumstantials set in competition with its funda-
mental truths and moral requisitions. "Never-
theless, the foundation of God standcth sure," —
and the Divine fabric of Christianity will remain
unshaken and unimpaired, so long as the Scrip-
tures are preserved uncontaminated and entire.

The evidences to which I have now adverted
are continually increasing in their clearness and
force. "^I'ime, which is gradually undermining
the foundation of error, is enlarging the bulwarks
of truth, and adding to their strength and stabili-
ty Opposition has^ tended only to clear away the
rubbish which has been thrown around the Chris-
tian fabric, but it has shown its foundations to bo
firm and impregnable. The historical evidence
has been gaining strength ever since the days of

the a]iostles, and since the time when Herbert,
Chubb, Tindal, Morgan, and other infidel writers
atlem])tcd to undermine the cause of revealed re-
ligion. Tlie defenses which were published by
Grotius, Slillingfleet, Butler, Leland, Watson, Pa-
Icy, and others, have shown, that the more the
arguments for Christianity have been oppose?!,
sifted, and cxuininod, the more irresistible hsre
they appeared, and the more have they shoae
with increasing brightness; so that no iniidel has
ever attemiited to meet them on fair grounds. —
The evidence from prophecy, from its very nature,
is continually progressive; and, in pro])ortion as
Scripture predictions are studied with judrrinent
and iiitelligence, and compared with the history
of past ages and the present state of the nations,
will a new light be thrown on the prophetical
writings, which will cause the evidence of their
divinity to shine forth with a brighter luster, and
enable every intelligent observer to read, in pas-
sing events and in the revolutions of empires, tlie
faitlifulness of the Almighty in accom[)lishing
those declarations, which, "at sundry limes and
Clivers manners, he spake to the fathers by the
prophets." — The internal evidence, which has
been more overlooked than it ought to have been,
is likewise increasing, and will continue to in-
crease, in proportion as the Scriptures arc perused
with judgment and care, as nature is contempla-
ted with humility and reverence, and as useful
knowledge is diiTused over the world. When the
holy principles of our religion shall have acquir-
ed a greater influence over the tempers and con-
duct of its professors; when the deliberations of
statesmen and the conduct of states and empiies
shall be directed by its maxims and laws; when
Christianity shall be divested of the false drapery
with which its pretended friends have attempt«l
to adorn it, and freed from the corruptions which
human foUy has incorporated with its institutions;
when all who recognize its leading doctrines,
throwing aside party disputes and animosities,
shall form themselves into one grand and harmoni-
ous association; when a few more portions of tho
heathen world shall have been brought into sub-
jection to the Prince of Peace, and wUen the gen-
eral happiness resulting from such events shall be
felt and acknowledged — then, all who behold such
blessed transformations will be enabled to read,
in characters that cannot be mistaken, that the
Creator of the universe is the original author of
Christianity, and that the promotion of the best
interests of mankind is the great end of all its
revelations.

My intention in giving the preceding summary
of the evidences of Christianity is, to show, that,
without habits of rational thinking and a certain
portion of general information, thesj evidences
cannot bo thoroughly investigated, nor tlicir
weight and importance duly apprecitted. For,
how can a mind unaccustomed to reading and re-
flection be supposed capable of entering into all
the topics and considerations requisitj to be at-
tended to in such investigations, — of biilancing
arguments, — of comparing prophecies wilh tlieir
accomplishment in the history of nations,— of
detecting sophisms, or of feeling the fore" of rea-
sonings, however clear or powerful? It is desti-
tute of those fundamental principles and general
ideas on which all moral ratiocinations are ground-
ed. On such a mind, the most weighty argu-
ments and the most cogent reasonings nndce no
sensible impression. It may be susceptible of
being biased against religion by the sneers and

BENEFICIAL EFFECTS OF CHRISTIANITY.

101

Barcasms of jovial companions, and the ridicule
with wiiicli they may treat the truths of revela-
tion, but it is unqualified either to rebut such im-
pertinences, or to ajjpreciate the excellencies of
Christianity, the foundation on which it rests
and the benignant tendency of its doctrines and
pretepts. And if, in the present day, a man has
no acquaintance with the grounds and reasons of
revealed religion, and the evidences on wliich its
truth and divinity rest, he will not only bo indii-
ferent to the observance of its precepts, and des-
titute of its supports and consolations, but will be
constantly liable to be turned aside to the paths
of folly and intemperance, and to become the prey
of unthinking fools and scoft'mg infidels. Where-
as, when a man can give a reason of the hope
thai is in him, his religion becomes a dslightfuj
and a rational service, and he is enabled to put to
silence the scoffs and vain cavilings of foolish and
unreasonable men.

Beside assisting us in investigating the eviden-
ces of religion — a certain portion of general in-
formation is highly useful, and even necessary
for enabling us to understand the sacred icritlngs.
It is true, indeed, that the leading doctrines of
revelation, respecting the attributes of God, the
mediation of Christ, the way in which salvation
is to bo obtained, the grand principles of moral
action, and the duties connected with the several
relations of life, are detailed with such plainness
and perspicuity as to be level to the comprehen-
sion of every reflecting mind, however unskilled
i.i literature or science. But there are certain por-
tions of Revelation, necessary "to make the man
of God perfect," the study of which requires the
exertion of all our faculties, and the application
of every branch of human knowledge we can
possibly acquire. This arises from the very na-
ture of the subjects treated of, and from the lim-
ited faculties of the human mind. To illustrate
tliis idea is the object of the following remarks.

1. A considerable portion of Scri])ture is occu-
pied with prophetical declarations, — in reference
to events wliich have long since taken place, to
those which are now happening, and to thos^
which will hereafter happen in the future ages of
the world. It contains a series of predictions
which embrace the leading outlines of the history
of the world, from its commencement to its final
consummation. Now, in order to trace the ac-
complishment of these predictions, and to per-
ceive clearly the events to which they refer, a
minute acquaintance with ancient and modern his-
tory is indispensably requisite: for it is in history,
either sacred or civil, that their accomplishment
Is recorded. And, could we, with one compre-
hensive glance, tike a survey of all the leading
events which the history of the world records, we
should be enabled, when reading the prophetical
writings, to perceive, at every step, the ideas and
purposes of that All-Comprehensive l\Iind that
"knoweth the end from the beginning," and his
faithfulness in accomplishing the promises, and
executing the threatenings of his word. — A knowl-
edge of Clironologij is also requisite, in order to
ascertain the time in which predictions were ut-
tered, and the periods to which they refer — and of
Ancient Geography, to determine the localities of
tliose tribes or nations to which t)\ ' prophecies
have a reference, and their relative positions with
regard to each other. — In particular, it is necessa-
ry to be acquainted with the Figurative style in
which prophecy is conveyed, in order to un-
derstand the writings of the ancient prophets.
These writings, in common with those of most
of the Eastern nations, are highly poetical, and

abound in Allegories, Parables and Metaphors.
The Allegory is that mode of speech in which the
writer or speaker means to convey a dilFerent idea
from what the words in their primary significa-
tion bear. Thus, "Break up your fallow ground,
and sow not among thorns,"* is to be understood,
not of tillage, but of repentance; and these words,
"Thy rowers have brought thee into great waters,
the east wind hath broken thee in the midst of
the scas,"t allude, not to the fate of a ship, but to
the fate of a city. — Of all the figures used by the
prophets, the most frequent is the Metaphor, by
wliich woi'ds are transferred from their i)lain and
primary, to llieir figurative and secondary mean-
ing. One of the most copious sources of these
metaphors to which the sacred writers resort, is
the scenery of Nature. The Sun, Moon, and Stars,
the higliest and most splendid objects in the na;*
tural world, figuratively represent kings, queens,
and princes or rulers, the highest in the political
world, as in the following passages, "The moon
shall be confounded, and the sun ashamed. "i "I
will cover the heavens, and make the stars there-
of dark; I will cover the sun with a cloud, and
the moon shall not give her light."§ Light aiid
darkness are used figuratively for joj' and sorrow,
prosperity and adversity; as, "We wait for light,
but behold obscurity; for brightness, but we walk
in darkness;" II — and likewise for knowledge and
ignorance; — "The people that walked in darkness
have seen a great light," &^c. Immoderate rains,
hail, floods, torrents, inundations, fire and storms,
denote judgments and destruction; Lebanon, re-
markable for its hight and its stately cedars, ia
used as an image of majesty and strength; Car-
mel, which abounded in vines and olives, as an
image of fertility and beauty; and bullocks of
Bashan, rams, lions, eagles, and sea-monsters, as
images of cruel and oppressive conquerors and
tyrants. Metaphors are likewise borrowed from
history, from the scenery of the temple and its
various utensils and services, and from the or-
dinary customs and occupations of life — the
meaning and application of which require to be
distinctly understood, in order to perceive the
spirit and references of ancient prophecy. Those
who would wish to study this subject with intel-
ligence, would do well to consult the works of
Lowth, Hurd, Sherlock, Kennicot, Newcome, and
l)articularly "Newton's Dissertations on the Pro-
[diecies."

2. In studying the historical parts of Scripture
— a knowledge of ancient history, and even of
P:igan Mythology, tends, in many instances, to
throw liffht on the narratives of the Sacred wri-
ters. We find, from heathen writers, who were
strangers to the Jewish religion, that the most
ancient tradition of all nations, respecting the
early history of the world, is exactly agreeable to
the relation of Moses, though expressed in a more
abstruse, doubtful and imperfect manner. The
description of the origin of the world, in the an-
cient Phenician history, translated by Philo Bib-
lins from Sanchonia thongs collection, and trans-
mitted to us by Eusehius, is materially the same,
with that which is recorded in the Book of Gene-
sis, when separated from the fabulous notions
with which it is blended. The Egyptians, ac-
cording to Laertius, acknowledged, " that origi-
nally the world was a confused chaos, from
whence the four elements were separated, and liv-
ing creatures made; and that the world had a be-
ginning, and consequently would have an end."

• .Ter. iv. 3. t Ezek. xxvii. 26.
§ Ezek. xxxii. 7.

t Isaiah jxiv.33.
II Isaiah hx. 9

102

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

Hesiod, tho most ancient writer wliose works
have reached us, says,|hat "all thing.s had their
origin from a rude chaos;" and Ovi I, in tho lirst
book of his " Metamorphoses," tolls us, " that
before tho seas, and the land, and the canopy of
heaven existed, there was one appo;irance throuj^h-
out the whole of nature, which they called cImos
—a rude and indigested mass, in wiiich earth and
air, tire and water were indiscriminately mixed."
In short, Thales, Anaxagoras, Aratns, Virgil and
Homer, speak of tho original of all things, con-
formably to the account given by Moses, tiiongh
in a ditfei-ent phraseology; and we learn from Jo-
sephus, Philo, TibuUus, Clemens Alexandrinus,
and Lucian, that the memory of the six days
work was preserved, nol only among the Greeks
and Italians, by honoring the seventh day, but
also among the Celta? and Indians, who all mea-
sured their time by weeks. — Manetho, who wrote
the history of the Egyptians, Berosus, who wrote
the Chaldean history, Hierom, who wrote the
history of Phenicia, and Hecataeus. Hillanicus and
Ephorus, who wrote the history of Greece, all
agree in asserting, " that those who descended from
the first men, in the iirst ages of the world, lived
many of them nearly a thousand years." — With
regard to the deluge, we find most of the Greek and
Roman writers, Ovid, Lucian, Berosus the Chalde-
an, Abydenus the Assyrian, and many others refer-
ring to that great event, and detailing the particu-
lar circumstances connected with it, in language
nearly similar to that of the Sacred histori-in;
such as, the preservation of Noah, the ark in which
he was preserved, the mountain on which it rested,
the dove and the raven which he is said to have
sent out, and the wickedness of the Antediluvi-
ans, as the cause of that dismal catastrophe. We
find, also, that the whole mythology of India is
full of allusions to the general deluge, wliich ap-
pears to be the commencement of their present
era; and that accounts of the same event are to
be met with in China and Japan.*

An acquaintance with ancient history is neces-
sary for enabling us to fill up the blanks left by
the Sacred historians. From the time of Ezra
and Nehemiali to the birth of Christ, there is an
interval of about four hundred and fifty years,
of the events which happened during which we
have no account in any part of the inspired writ-
ings. A knowledge of the events which hap-
pened during this interval is necessary, in order
to complete our views of the scheme of Divine
Providence, and to unfold to us the series of God's
dispensations in relation both to the Jews and the
surrounding nations. During this period, too,
many of the predictions of Daniel and the other
prophets received their accomplishment, — particu-
larly those which relate to the Modes and Per-
sians, the Macedonian empire, the times of Alex-
ander the Great, Ptolemy Philadelphus, Antioclius
Epiphanes, Philip of Micedon, and the persecu-
tions in the days of the Maccabees. In order,
therefore, to obtain a clear and comprehensive
view of the ways of Providence during this inter-
val, such works as Shuckford's " Connection of
Sacred and Profane History," and Prideaux's
"Connections of the Old and New Testament,"
require to be studied with care, in many parts of
which will be seen a running commentary on
Daniel's vision of the "Ram and He-Goat," and
of " the things noted in the Scripture of truth,"
which have a reference, among otlier things, to the
kings of Persia, to Alexander and his successors,

• See Maurice's " Indian Antiquities," and Bryant's "Sys-
tem of Myliiology."

and tho warlike expeditions in wliich they were
engaged. For an elucidation of the general traia
of events from the Mosaic creation to the estab-
lishment of Christianity, '• otackhouse's History
of t!ie Bible," in six volumes 8vo, or in throe
volunres 4to, with the additional notes and disser-
tations of Bishop Gf'ig, will be found an invalu-
able treasure, and will amply repay the reader who
gives it a diligent perusal.*

3. A knowledge of the manners and customs,
climate and seasons, arts and sciences of the East-
ern nations, is essentially requisite, in many in-
stances, in order to understand tho allusions of the
sacred writers, and the meaning of various por-
tions of Scripture. For example, when an untu-
tored reader ()eruses the account given in the
Evangelists of the cure of the paralytic who wa«
carried by four men on a bed, and who, finding it
impossible to pass through the throng, ascended
to the top of the house in which Jesus was, and
let him down bed and all, " through the tiling,"
into the very room where lie was silLmg — he is
apt to entertain a very confused and erroneous
idea of the circumstances of the case, when his
attention is directed solely to the mode of building
in this country. But, wiien he is informed, thai
the houses in tho country of Judea were low-
built and flat-roofed, and surrounded with a para
pet breast-high, that there was a ladder or pair of
stairs wliich led to the top of the house from ths
outside, and a trap-door or hatchway in the mid-
dle of the roof — he will soon acquire a clear idea
of the circumstances stated in this and other parts
of the Evangelical history, and of the ease with
which the paralytic man might be conveyed to
the top of the building and let down through th«
roof. Tiie same facts likewise illustrate the cir-
cumstance of Peter's going to the top of tiu
house to pray, and the custom of making procla-
matio'ns from the house-tops, to which there are
several allusions in Scripture. — A knowledge of
the weather and seasons of Judea, is frequently
of use to illustrate the force of certain expressions
of the sacred writers. It may seem to us nothing
extraordinary that there should be "thunder and
rain in harvest," or in the months of June and
July, when Samuel said, " Is it not wheat harvest
to-day? I will call unto the Lord, and he shall
send thunder and rain.'' f But Jerome, who lived
in Judea many years, says, it never rained there
at that season; so that the thunder and rain which
happened at the intercession of Samuel were truly
miraculous, and as such, "the people greatly fear-
ed the Lord and Samuel." — Again, in Luke xiL
55, it is said, "When ye see the south wind blow,
ye say there will be heat, and it cometh to pass."
In our climate, where the south wind seldom
blows, this m ly not be always the case. But in
Syria, Egypt, Judea and the adjacent countries,
tlie effect here mentioned is striking and uniform.
When the south wind begins to blow, the sky be-
comes dark and heavy, the air gray and thick,
and the whole atmosphere assurae.s a most alarm-
ing aspect. The heat produced by these southern

* In Bi?hopGlei;j's edition of Stackliouse's History, a long
and useful dissertation, entitled, " An Ai)[)nr:itus to the Ills-
tory of the Bible," has been left out, without any reason be-
in^ assiffued for the omission. In other respects the origins
work a])|)e:irs to be complete. Bishop Gleig's improvemenU
consist chiefly in hrimjinj forward the discoveries of modern
science for the purpose of elucidatin? certain Scriptural
facts, and repelling the objections of intidels — and in various
dissertations on some of the leadinj doctrines and histonca.
facts of revelation, which form valuable additions to the
original work of Stackhouse. See also Home's introdttc-
tion, &c.
tlSam. xii. 17

SCIENCE ILLUSTRATIVE OF SCRIPTURE.

103

winds has beon compared to tliat of a huge oven,
at llie nioment of drawing out the bread, and to
that of a flame blown U[)oil the face of a person
standing near tlie fire tliat excites it.

Thousands of illustrations of Sacrod Scripture
may be derived from such sources; and he who is
unacquainted with thcin must remain a stranger
t3 the beauties of the style of the inspired writers,
and to the precise meaning of many portions both
•f the historical and the prophetical writings. The
manners and customs of the Eastern nations have
remanied nearly the same .for several thousand
years; so that tiiose which are found existing in
the present day are exactly, or nearly the same,
as those which prevailed in the times when the
books of the Old and New Testaments were writ-
ten. Modern oriental travelers, in their descrip-
tions of the arts, sciences and manners of the
East, have furnished us with a mass of invaluable
materials for the elucidation of holy writ, and
they have proved, in many cases, unintentionally,
better commentators than the most profound crit-
ics and philologists. Many of their insulated re-
marks of this kind have lately been classified and
arranged by various writers, particularly by Hur-
mer, in his "Observations," IBurder in his " Ori-
ental Customs," Paxton in his " Illustrations,"
and Taylor, the late learned editor of the new
editions of Calmet's Dictionary, in his Fragmenta,
appended to that work, which contains an im-
mense number of sucli obseiT^ations, illustrated
with a great variety of engravings.

4. An acquaintance with Ancient Geography,
especially that part of it which relates to the
Eastern countries, would enable a person to pe-
ruse many portions of Scripture with much
greater interest and intelligence, than if he were
altogether ignorant of this branch of knowledge.
• In the history of the Old Testament, and in the
Prophetical writings, there are frequent references
and allusions to Mesopotamia, Idumea, Egypt,
Assyria, Chaldea, Arabia, Ethiopia, Libya, Par-
thia, Scythia, Persia, and other countries — to the
cities of Jerusalem, Babylon, Nineveh, Damascus,
Tadmor, Tyre, Sidon, &.c. — to the great Sea, or
the Mediterranean, the Dead Sea, the Sea of Ti-
berias, the Red Sea — the isles of Chittim, Cyprus,
Crete, Melita — the rivers Jordan, Kishon, Jabbok,
Euphrates, Hiddekel, Pison, Ulai, Abana, Phar-
par, &c. — Now, a knowledge of the positions of
such places with resjject to the country of Judea,
tlieir relative situations with regard to each other,
and of the outlines of their history, and of tiie
warlike achievements and commerce of their in-
habitants— is frequently necessary, in order to
attain a clear and comprehensive view of the pas-
sages in which there are allusions to such locali-
ties. In reading the Evangelists, it is highly ex-
pedient to know, for example, the position of Sa-
maria, Galilee, the lake of Gennesareth, and the
river Jordan, with respect to that portion of the
Holy Land, denominated Judea — the situations
of Bethlehem, Nazareth, Jericho, Nain, Sychar,
Bethsaida, Cana, Tyre and Sidon, with respect to
ferusalem, and their respective distances from that
metropolis — and the characteristics of the inhabi-
tant of these places; for, upon a knowledge of
such circumstances, our perception of the beauty
and appropriateness of our Saviour's discourses,
and of the propriety of his actions, will, in a
great measure, depend. In reading the history of
the journeyings of the Apostles, it is no less ex-

Sedient that we have lying before us maps of Asia
linor, of j4 ncient Greece, of Palestine, of the
Eastern parts of Africa, and of the islands of the
Mediterranean, aad that we have some acquaint-

ance with the history and character of tje tribes
which inhabited these countries in the days of the
Apostles. Without such knowledge and assist-
ances, we must, in many instances, read their
narratives without ideas — and shall be unable to
ajtprcciate their labors, the long journeys they
undertook, the fatigues they endured, the dangers
to which they were exposed by sea and land, and
the allusions made to such circumstances in the
Ajjostolic Epistles.*

5. An acquaintance with the facts of Natural
History and Science, and with the general pheno-
mena of Nature, would toad to throw a light on
many passages of Scripture, and would enable
persons to perceive a beauty and an emphasis in
certain expressions, which they would otherwise
be apt to overlook. For example, in the begin-
ning of the hundred and thirty-fifth psalm, tho
servants of God are exhorted to " praise the name
of Jehovah;" and in the sequel of the Psalm va-
rious reasons are assigned why we should engage
in this exercise. One of these reasons is, that
" He causelh the vapors to ascend from the ends of
the earth.^' Many persons who read or who may
sing this portion of sacred poetry, would be apt
to overlook the circumstance now stated as an
argument of very inferior importance. But if we
examine the subject attentively, we shall find,
that this physical operation of the Almighty is
not only very wonderful in its nature, but that
upon it most of our comforts, and even our very
existence, depend. Evaporation is a process by
which water and other liquids are converted into
vapor. The matter of heat, combining with wa-
ter, renders it specifically lighter, by which means
it rises and mixes with the atmosphere, where it
remains either invisihJe, or assumes the appear-
ance of clouds. In this state it occupies a space
fourteen hundred times greater than in its or-
dinary liquid state, and consequently is much
lighter than the atmospheric air into which it
rises. It has been calculated, that, from an acre
of ground, during twelve hours of a summer's
day, more than ItJOO gallons of water have been
drawn up into the air in the form of vapor. From
the whole surface of the ocean there arise, every
twelve hours, no less than 30,320,500,000,000 or
more than thirty millions of millions of cubic feet
of water, v/hich is more than sufiicient to supply
all the rivers that intersect the four quarters of
the globe. This immense body of vapor is form-
ed into clouds, which are carried by the winds
over every part of the continents; and, by a pro-
cess with which we are still unacquainted, is
again condensed into rain, snow or dews, which
water and fertilize the earth. Now, if this won-
derful and extensive process of nature were to
cease — we might wash our clothes, but centuries
would not dry them, for it is evaporation alone
that produces this etiect — there would be no rains
nor dews to fertilize our fields, and the conse-
quence would be, the earth would be parched,
and the vegetable productions which afford u«
subsistence would wither and decay, — the river*
would sv\'ell the ocran, and cause it to overflow a
portion of the land, while, at the same time
their sources would soon be completely exhaust-
ed, and their channels dried up. In such a state
of things, the whole system of terrestrial nature
would be deranged, and man, and all the other

* The stu'lent. of ancient ^eojrnphy will be assisted in his
researciies by a perusal of Wells' " ?et of Maps of Ancient
Geojjraphy," twenty-tliree in number — and Wells' " Sacred
(jeograpliy," modernized by the Editor of Calmet's Diction-
ary, which is one of the most accurate and complete works
of the kind.

104

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

tribes of animated nature — deprived of those
comforts wiiicli are essential to tlit-ir existence —
would, in a short time, perish from the earth. So
tliat it forms a powerful and impressive motive to
excite us to praise the name of Jeliovah, wlien we
call to remembrance, that it is lie " who causcth
the vapors to ascend from the ends of the earth,"
and thus preserves the harmony of nature, aud
secures to all living creatures Lhe blessings they
now enjoj'.

Again, we are informed by Solomon (Eccles.
j. 7.) that "all the rivers run into the sea; yet the
sea is not full; unto the place Jrorn whence the ri-
vers come, thither they return ajain.^' lt_ appears,
at first sight, somewhat unaccountable, that the.
ocean has not long ere now overflown all its
banks, when we consider that so many majestic
streams are incessantly rolling into its abyss, carry-
ing along with them into its caverns no less than
thirteen thousand six hundred cubical miles of
water every year. Solomon partly solves the
ditnculty, by informing us, that, " to the place
whence the rivers come, thitber they return
again." But how do they return? Many expo-
sitors of Scripture attempt to explain this cir-
cumstance, by telling us that the waters of the
ocean percolate through the earth, and in some
way or another, arrive near the tops of moun-
tains, where springs generally abound. But such
a supposition is not only highly improbable, when
we consider the vast mass of earth and rocks,
several hundreds of miles in thickness, tlirough
which the waters would have to percolate, but
directly contrary to the known laws of nature;
for no Jluitl can rise in a tube above the level of its
source, which in this case it behooved to do. Mo-
dern experiments and discoveries, hov.-ever, have
satisfactorily accounted for this fact, on the prin-
ciple of evaporation, to which I have just now
adverted. From tjie surface of the ocean and of
the rivers themselves, there is carried up into the
atmosphere, in the form of vapor, nearly three
times the quantity of water sufficient to replenish
the sources of all the rivers in the world. The
vapor thus raised is carried by the winds, in the
form of clouds, over every region of the globe,
and falls down in rains to carry on the various
processes of nature. One part falls into the sea,
another on the lowlands, and the remaining part
is sufficient to replenish the sources of all the
rivers. So that the assertion of Solomon is
strictly and philosophically correct, tliat " to the
place whence the rivers come, thither they return
again." They first fall into the ocean; a portion
of their waters is then raised by evaporation into
tlie atmosphere; this portion of vapor, after tra-
versing the regions of the air, falls down in
rain, mists, and dews, and supplies the numerous
springs " which run among the hills."

Such illustrations, whicti might be indefinitely
extended, not only tlirow a light on the meaning
of the sacred writers, but tend likewise to show
the harmony that subsists between the discoveries
of science and the truths of revelation. As the
Author of Christianity and the Author of the
system of nature is one and the same Being,
there must exist a harmonious correspondence
between truth in the one, and fact in the other,
and the more they are studied with intelligence,
and in connection with each other, the more will
their harmony be apparent.

It is a circumstance that lias frequently forced
itself upon my attention, that whatever scene of
nature we contemplate, and however brilliant aud
unexpected the discoveries which modern science
has brought to light, — however far they have

carried our views into the wonders of the minute
parts of creation, and into the immeasurable re-
gions of space, where myriads of suns are lighted
up, — and however much the mind may bo lost
in astonishment and wonder, at the magiii(icent
scenes which they disclose, — we shall find senti-
ments and expressions in Scripture adequate to
express every emotion of the soul when engagpd
in such contemplations. Are we contemplating
the expanse of the ocean, and the vast mass of
waters which fill its migiity caverns? and do wo
wish to raise our thoughts in adoration of the
power of that Almighty Being who formed it by
his word? We are presented by the inspired pen-
men with expressions in which to vent our emo-
tions. " He holds its waters in the hollow of his
hand; he taketh up its isles as a very little thing."
" He gathereth the waters of the sea together as a
mass; he layeth up the depth as in storehouses."
"He diviJcth the sea by his power; he liath com-
passed the waters with bounds, until the day and
night come to an end." " Thou coveredst the
earth with the deep as with a garment; the waters
stood above the mountains.* At thy rebuke they
fled; at the voice of thy thunder they hasted
away. Thou hast set a boundary that they may
not pass over, that they turn not again to cover
the earth." "He hath placed the sand for the
bounds of the sea, by a perpetual decree, that it
cannot pass it; and though the waves thereof toss
themselves, yet they cannot prevail; though they
roar, yet can they not pass over it." He hath
said to its rolling billows, " Hitherto shalt thou
come, and no farther; and here shall thy proud
waves be stayed." — Are we spectators of storms
and tempests, especially in the terrific grandeur
they display in southern climes? Our emotions
will be expressed with the greatest emphasis in
the language of inspiration, in which we are uni-
formly^ directed to view the agency of God in
such phenomena. "Clouds and darkness are
round about him: He hath his way in the whirl-
wind and the storm, and the clouds are the dust of
his feet." " When he uttereth his voice, there is a
sound of waters in the heavens; he causelh the
vapors to ascend from the ends of the earth; he
muketh lightnings with rain, and bringeth forth
the winds out of his treasuries." " The (5od of
glory thundereth; the voice of the Lord is full of
majesty; the voice of the Lord divideth the flames
of fire; yea, the Lord breaketh the cedars of Le-
banon." " Who can stand before his indignation?
The mountains quake before him, the hills melt,
and rocks are shivered at his presence."

Again, when we contemplate the immense
number and variety of animated beings which
glide through the waters, move along the earth,
and wing their flight through the air; together
with the ample provision which is made for their
accommodation and subsistence, — where can we
find language more appropriate to express our
f/eiings than in these words of the Psalmist?
" Hov/ manifold are thy works, 0 Lord ! In
wisdom hast thou made them all; the earth is full
of tliy richer; so is the great and wide sea, where-
in are ti)ings creeping innumerable, both smal!
and great beasts. These all wait upon thee, tha»
thou mayest give tliem their meat in due season.
Thou giVcst tiiem, — they gather; thou openesi
thine hand, — they are filled with good." — When
we survey the structure of the human frame, and
consider the vast nurnlier of bones, muscles, veins,
arteries, lacteals, lymphatics, and other parts, all
curiously combined, and calculated to facilitate

' Referring to the deluge.

HARMONY OF SCIENCE AND REVELATION.

105

evoiy motion of our bodies, and to produce sensi-
ttve enjoyment, — along with tlie organs of sense,
the process of respiration, and tlie circulation of
the blood through the whole frame every four
minutes, — can we refrain from adopting the ex-
pressive language of the Psalmist? " I will praise
thee, for 1 am fearfully and wonderfully made!
marcelous are thy works. My substance was
not hid from thee when I was made in secret, and
curiously wrought," — or variegated like needle-
work,— "in my mother's womb.* Thine eyes
did sec my substance \vhen it was yet imperfect;
Rnd in thy book all my members were written,
which in continuance were fashioned when as
yet there was none of them. How precious are
thy thoughts (or, thy wonderful contrivances)
concerning me, 0 God! Hoiv great is the sum
of them! If I should count theui, they are more
in number than the sand." To which may be
added the words of Job, " Thine hands have made
and fashioned me; thou hast clothed me with skin
and flesh, and hast fenced me with bones and
sinews; and thy visitation preservcth my spirit."
— ^When we contemplate the minute wonders of
creation, and are struck with astonishment at the
inconceivable sraallncss of certain animated be-
ings,— how can we more appropriately express
our feelings than in the language of Scripture,
"He is w^onderful in counsel, and excellent in
working; his wisdom is nnsearchable, his under-
standing is infinite; marvelous things doth he
which we cannot comprehend. There is none
like unto thee, 0 Lord, neither are there any
works like unto thy works. Thou art great, and
dost wondrous things; thou art God alone."

When we contemplate the amaziiig structure
of the heavens — the magnitude of the bodies
which compose the planetary system, and the nu-
merous orbs which adorn the nocturnal sky —
when we penetrate with the telescope into the
more distant regions of space, and behold ten
thousand times ten thousand more of these bright
luminaries rising to view from every region of
the firmament — when we consider that each of
tliese twinkling luminaries is a sun, equal or su-
perior to our own in size and in splendor, and sur-
rounded with a system of revolving worlds —
when we reflect, that all this vast assemblage of
suns and worlds, forms, in all prob:xbility, iDUt a
very small portion of Jehovah's empire, and when
our minds are bewildered and astonislied at the
incompreliensible grandeur of the scene — where
shall we find language to express our emotions

• In our translation, the beauty, and emphasis of this pas-
S^e are pnrtly lost. The expresiion, " curiously wroui;hl,"
literally translated, signifies " Hovvered with a needle."
The process of the formation of the human body in the
womb is compared to that in a piere of ilelicale work
wrought with a fine needle, or fashioned w illi peculiar art
in the loom; which, with all its Ijeaiiliful proportion of fgiire
and variety of coloring, rises by degrees to perfection iin:ler
the hand of the artist, from a rude mass of silk or other ma-
.erials, and according to a pattern lying before him. In ac-
cordance with this idea, the Divine Being is here represent-
ed as working a shapeless mass, after a plan deliriealeil in
his book, into ine most curious texture of muscles, hones,
veins, ligaments, membranes, lymphatics, &c. most skillfully
interwoven and connected with each other, until it becomes
a structure with all the parts, lineaments, and functions

of a man 'o one of which is to be fot^n at first, any n)ore

than the figures in a ball of silk, before it is fashioned with
the needle. The wonders of this workmanship are far-
ther enliauced from the consideration, that, while human
artificers require the clearest liflit for accomplishing their
work, the IJivine Aitist performs it "in secret," within
the dark and narrow lecess of the womb. The expres.sion,
" How precious are thy thoughts to vie," should be rcmlered,
" How precious are thy contrivances respecting mc," name-
ly, in reference to the exquisite structure and organization
«f the corporeal frame, on which the Psalmist had fixed bis
mitditatic .:,

more energetic and appropriate Ihan in such pas-
sages as these? "Canst thou by searching find out
God? Canst thou find out the Almighty to per-
fection? He is glorious in power, his understand-
ing is infinite, his greatness is unsearchable The
heavens declare the glory of Jehovah, and the fir-
mament showeth his handy-work. All nations
before him are as nothing, and they are counted
to him as less than nothing and vanity. Ho met-
eth out the heavens with a span, and compre-
heudcth the dust of the earth in a measure
Behold! the heaven and the heaven of heavens
cannot contain him. By the word of the Lord
were the heavens made, and all the host of them
by the spirit of his mouth. He spake, and it
was done; he commanded, and it stood fast. He
doth great things past finding out, and wonders
without number. Great and marvelous are thy
works. Lord God Almighty! Touching the Al-
mighty we cannot find liiin out; he is excellent
in power, and his glory is above the earth and the
heavens. Who can utter the mighty operations
of Jehovah? Who can show forth all his praise?"

Are we led, from the discoveries of modern as-
tronomy, to infer, that numerous worlds beside
our own exist throughout the universe? This
idea will be found embodied in numerous passa-
ges of Scripture^such as the following; "Through
faith we unders%nd that the worlds were framed
by the word of God." "In these last days he
hath spoken to us by his Son, whom he hath ap-
])ointed heir of all things, by whom also he made
the worlds." "Thou hast made heaven, the hea-
ven of heaven?, wi!h all their host, and thou pre-
sen'est them all, and the host of heaven worshipeth
thee." "He sitteth upon tlie circle of the earth,
and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers.
All the inhabitants of the earth are reputed as
nothing in his sic/ht. The nations are as the drop
of a bucket; atid he doth according to his will in
the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of
the earth." "He hath prepared his throne in the
heavens, and his kingdomruleth over all." "When
I consider thy heavens — what is man, that thou
art mindful of him?" It would be easy to show,
were it expedient in the present case, that all such
expressions and representations, embody in them
the idea of a pliiralihj of worlds, without which
they would appear either inexplicable, or as a
species of bombast, unworthy of the character of
inspired writers. So that, to whatever depart-
ment of nature we direct our contemplations, we
perceive its correspondence with the_ sentiments
expressed in the sacred writings, and find in these
writings the most sublime and ap])ropriate lan-
guao-e in which to express those emotions which
the "diversified sc^jucs of the material world are
calculated to inF[)ire.

We may now :isk, if such an assertion can be
made, in truth, wulh regard to any other writings,
ancient or modern, whose sentiments have not
been derived from the sacred oracles? Can we
find in the v/ritingsof all the poets, philosophers
and orators of Greece and Rome, sentimt'iits so dig-
nified, appropriate and sublime, in reltUion to th«
obj'^cts to which we have alluded? Do not such
writers frequently misrepresent and even carica-
ture the system of nature? Are not their descrip-
tions of the gods, and the actions they attribute
to them, in many instances, mean, ridiculous, un-
worthy of the character of sup<-rior beings, and
even in the highest degree immoral and i)rofane1
And, if we turn to the literature and the sacred
books of the Chinese, the Persians, the Hindooa
or the Japanese, shall we find anything superior?
And is not the circumstance to which we have

106

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

adverted, a strong presumptive evidence tlmt the
Scriptures of the Old and New Testament wore
writi.eu under the luspirutiou of the Ahiiighty;
and consequently, that they are " j)rotitablo for
doctrine, for reproof, and for instruction in right-
eousness, tluit the man of God may be made per-
fect, and tiioroughly furnished unto all good
works?"

Such is a brief view of some of the advantages
which may bo derived from history and general
science in the study of the Scriptures. Tliero is,
indeed, scarcely a branch of useful knowledge, of
whatever description, but nitiy be rendered in
some way or another, subservient to the elucida-
tion of tiie sacred oracles, and in enabling us to
take a wide and comprehensive view of tlie facts
and doctrines tliey declare. Were the great body
of mankind, therefore, instructed in general know-
ledge, and accustomed to rational investigations,
they woiild be enabled to study the Scriptures
with much greater interest and intelligence than
they can now be supposed to do. They would
perceive the beauty and sublimity of their lan-
guage, the dignity and excellence of the senti-
ments they contain, the purity of their doctrines,
and the beneficent tendency of their moral pre-
cepts; and, by familiarizing their minds wilh the
numerous and multifarious facts tjjey exhibit, and
comparing them with the history of nations, and
with passing events, they would gradually acquire
an enlightened and comprehensive view of God's
superintending providence. . The study of the
Scriptures, in llieir native simplicity, with the
helps now alluded to, and without intermixture
of the technical language of theologians, and of
party opinions, would be of vast importance in
religion. It would convince the unbiased inqui-
rer how little foundation there is in the Scriptures
themselves, for many of those numerous disputes
about metaphysical dogmas, which have rent the
Christian world into a number of shreds and
patches, and produced jealousy and animosity,
where love and afTeclion should have appeared
predominant. He would soon be enabled to per-
ceive, that tlie sjrstem of Revelation chiefly con-
sists of a scries of important facts, connected
with the dispensations of God toward our race,
and interwoven with a variety of practical and
interesting truths; and that the grand design of
the whole is to counteract the effects of moral
evil, to display the true character of Deity, to
promote love to God and man, to inculcate the
practice of every heavenly virtue, and to form
mankind into one harmonious and affectionate so-
ciety. He would find none of the technical terms
and phraseology which the schoolmen and others
have introduced into their systems of theology;
nor any of those anathemas, which one sectarj'
has so frequently leveled at a\ other, ap[)lied to
any one, exce])ting to those "who love not our
Lord Jesus in sincerity." He would naturally be
led to the conclusion, that what is not clearly and
explicitly stated in tiie Scriptures, or but obscure-
ly hinted at, in reference to the external govern-
ment of the church or any other subject, cannot
be a matter of primary importance, and conse-
quently, ought never to be the subj"ct of virulent
dispute, or the cause of dissension or separation
among Christians — and that those things only are
to be considered as the prominent and distinguisn-
ing truths of religion which are the most fre-
quently reiterated, and expressed with such
emphasis, and perspicuity, that "he who runs
may read then."

Again, such an intelligent study of the Scrip-
ture* as would accompany the acquisition of

general knowledge, would have a tendency te
promote the union of the Christian church. Ig-
norance and distorted views of the truths of reve-
lation are almost uniforndy accompanied with
illiberality and self-conceit; and where those pro-
vail, silly prejudices are fostered, and party opin-
ions tenaciously adhered to, and inagnilied ii.ia
undue importance. But an enlightened mind, —
the farther it advances in tlie paih of knowledga
and in the study of the Sacrea Grades, the uioro
will it perceive the limited nature of its faculties,
and the difficulty of deciding on certain mysteri-
ous doctrines; and consequently, the more will it
be disposed to grant to every othe? mind a Hberly
of thought on subordinate religious subjects, and
to make every allowance for those educational
prejudices and other causes which have a tenden-
cy to warp the mind to certain favorite opinions*
And, wheji such a disposition more generally pre-
vails, and is accompanied with the exercise of
Christian love and moderation — the spirit of par-
ty will be gradually undermined, and all who
recognize the grand and essential features of genu-
ine Christianity will unite in one lovely and har-
monious society. But, so long as ignorance and
habits of ni'Mital inactivity prevail among the
great body of the population, such a happy con-
summation cannot be expected.*

In short, were the Sacred writings studied with
reverence and attention, and those departments
of knowledge to which I have alluded brought
forward to assist in their investigation, Infidelity
would soon feel ashamed of its ignorance and im
pertinence, and hide its head in retirement and
obscurity. It is owing, in a great measure, to
ignorance of the Scriptures, that so many avowed
infidels are to be found in society. " They speak
evil of the things which they know not; " " their
mouth speakcth great swelling words" of vanity
against truths which they never investigated, ana
which, of course, they do not understand. Evei
some of those who have attempted to write agains.
revelation are not ashamed to avow, that they
have never cither read or studied the writings i.
contains. Paine, one of the most virulent adver-
saries of Christianity, had the effrontery to affimi.
that, when he wrote the first part of his " Age
of Reason," he was without a Bible. "After-
ward," he tells us, in schoolboy language, " I pro-
cured a Bible and a Testament.''^ Who, but an
arrant fool would have made such a declaration,
and thus have proclaimed his own impertinence
and folly? and who would have listened with pa-
tience to such an impudent avowal, had it been
made in relation to any other subject? For, to
attempt to answer a book which one had not read,
is surely the hight of presumption and impu-
dence, and plainly indicates, that the mind was
previously prejudiced against it, and determined
to oppose its sentiments. Others have looked into
the Bible, and skimmed over its contents, with
the express purpose of finding faults and contra-
dictions. Emerson the mathematician, having
imbibed a disrelish for the Scriptures, endeavored
to satisfy his mind that they were not divine, by
picking out a number of insulated passages, which
he conceived to be contradictions, and set them,
one opposite to another, in two separate columns,
and then was bold enough to aver that he had
proved the Bible to be an imposture. Is it any
wonder that men who presume to act in this man-
ner should never come to the knowledge of tlie
truth? What book in the world would stand

For a more full illustration of this topic see Section V

MISCELLANEOUS ADVANTAGES OF KNOWLEDGE.

107

such an ordeaH There is no treatise on any sub-
ject whatever, whicii, if treated in tliis manner,
might not be made to appear a mass of absurdi-
ties and contradictions. If the Bible is to be read
at all, it must be perused both with reverence and
V7ith intelligence; and there is no one who enters
on the study of it, in such a state of mind, but
will soon perceive, that it contains " the witness
in itself," that it is from (rod, and will feel, that
it is " quick and powerful " in its appeals to the
conscience, and a " searcher of the thoughts and
intents of Ihe heart." But he who reads it cither
with scorn, with nrigligence, or with prejuiiice,
needs not wonder if he shall find himself only
confirmed in his folly and unbelief. " For a
scorner seeketh wisdom, and fuideth it not; but
knowledge is easy unto him tliat hath uuder-
Btanding."

I have dwelt, at considerable length, en the
topic of Christianity, because it is a subject of pe-
culiar interest and importance to every individual.
If, in systems of education, and in the means by
which mankind at large may be enlightened and
Improved, the knowledge of religion be overlook-
ed, and its moral requisitions disregarded, more
evil than good may be the result of the dissemi-
nation of general and scientific knowledge. We
have a proof of this in the scenes of anarchy,
licentiousness and horror which succeeded tlie
first French revolution, when revealed religion
was publicly discarded, and atheism, infidelity
and fatalism, accompanied with legalized plunder-
ing, became " the order of the .day." If know-
ledge is not consecrated to a moral purpose, and
prosecuted with a reference to that immortal ex-
istence to which we are destined, the utility of its
general diffusion might be justly called in ques-
tion. But, when prosecuted in connection with
the important discoveries of revelation, it has a
tendency to raise man to the highest dignity of
which his nature is susceptible, and to prepare
him for more exalted pursuits and enjoyments in
the life to come.

SECTION X.

Miscellaneous advantages of knowledge
briefly stated.

In this section, I shall briefly advert to several
advantages which would flow from a general dif-
fusion of knowledge, not directly included in
those which have already been stated.

I. Minds tutored in knowledge and habits of
reflection, ii-ould he led to form just estimates of hu-
man character and enjoyment.

The bulk of mankind are apt to form a false
estimate of the characters of men, from consider-
ing only those adventitious circumstances in
which they are placed, and those external trap-
pings with which they are adorned. Wherever
wealth and splendor, and high sounding titles
have taken up their residence, the multitude fall
down and worship at their shrine. The natural
and ac([uired endowments of the mind are seldom
appreciated and respected, unless they are clothed
with a dazzling exterior. A man of genius, of
virtue and of piety, is not distinguished from '*ic
common herd of mankind, unless he can afi'ord to
live in an elegant mansion, to entertain convivial
parties, and to mingle with the fashionable and
polite The poor and ignorant peasant looks up
with a kind of veneration to niy lord and my

lady, as if they were a species of superior beings,
though, perhaps, with the exception of a few tri-
lling accomplishments, they are scarcely raised
above the level of the vulgar whom they despise,
m respect to intellectual attainments; and they
are often far beneath them in those moral accom-
l)lishments which constitute the true glory of
man, — being too frequently the slaves of many
foolish caprices and unhallowed passions. To pay
homage to mere titles, rank or riches, has a ten-
dency to degrade the human mind, and has been
the source of all that vassalage, slavery and des-
potism which have prevailed in the world. On
the other hand, the man of rank and fashion
looks down with a species of disdain, and con-
siders as unworthy of liis notice, the man of ta-
lent, or the rational inquirer after truth, if he is
clad in a homely dress, and possessed of only a
small siiare of wealth; because, forsooth, he is
unqualified to accompany him to horse-races, as-
semblies, masquerades, and other fashionable en-
tertainments. Many an individual of superlative
worth and merit has been thus overlooked by his
superiors in rank, and even by the great body of
liis fellow-men, and has passed through the world
almost unnoticed and unknown, except by a few
niiads congenial to his own. For the beauties
and excellencies of mind can only be perceived
and appreciated- by those whose mental faculties
have been, in some degree, enlightened and im-
proved, and who are qualified to estimate the value
of a jewel, although its casket may be formed of
coarse materials, and besmeared with sand and
mud.

The multitude form no less erroneous estimates
in regard to human happiness. Having felt little
other misery than that which arises from poverty,
want, or excessive labor, they are apt to imagine,
that where riches abound, and the avenues to
every sensitive enjoyment are free and unob-
structed, there misery can scarcely gain admit-
tance, and the greatest share of human happiness
must be found; that where there is wealth there
can be little sorrow, and tliat those who glide
along in splendor and aftluence can scarcely be
acquainted with the cares and anxieties which
press so heavily upon the rest of mankind. Hence
the ruling passion, which distinguishes the major-
ity of mankind, to aspire after elevated station
and rank, and to accumulate riches, although it
should be at the expi^nse of trampling under foot
every social duty, and every moral principle, and
even at the risk of emiangering life itself. Hence,
the idle and the vicious are led to imagine, that if
they can but lay hold of wealth, whether by fraud,
by deceit, or by open violence^ they will be
able to administer nutriment fo those desires
which, when gratified, will complete their happi-
ness.

It is evident, that nothing can be supposed
more effectual for counteracting such falbicious
tendencies of the human mind, than the cultiva-
tion of reason, the expan<;ing of the intellectual
faculties, and the habit of applying the principles
of knowledge to the diversified phenonieup. of hu-
man character and conduct. The man whose
mind is accustomed to investigation, and to take
an extensive range through the regions of science,
and who con&iders his mental powers as the chief
characteristic by which he is distinguished in the
scale of animal existence, will naturally be guided
in his estimates of human character, hy moral and
intellectual considerations. His eye will easily
p'-netrate through the thin vail of exterior and
adventitious accompaniments, and appreciate
what alone is worthy of regard in the characters

108

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

of men, whether they be surrounded by wealth
and splendor, or immersed in poverty or obscu-
rity. And with respect to liuman happiness, a
pei'sou of tliis description will easily enter into
such u train of reasoning as the following, and
feel its force: — That, in respect of wealth, wliat
we cannot reach may very well be forborne; that
tlie inequality of happiness on this account is, for
the most part, much less than it seems; that the
greatness which we admire at a distance, has
much fewer advantages^ and nmch less si)lcndor,
when we are suffered to approach it; that tiie
\ happiness which we imagine to be found in high

life, is much alloyed and diminished by a variety
of foolish passions and domestic cares and anxi-
eties, of wliich we are generally ignorant; and
that the apparent infelicity of the lower stations
in society is frequently moderated by various mo-
ral and domestic comforts, unknown to many of
those who occupy the liighest ranks of social life.
There is a certain portion of external enjoyment
without which no man can be happy; and there
is a certain portion of wealth to procure this en-
joyment which every rank of society ought to pos-
sess,and which even the lowest rankswould obtain,
were the movements of the social machine properly
conducted. But, to pursue riches, with all the
violence of passion, as the chief end of our being,
is not only degrading to our intellectual natures,
and tends to block up the avenues to tranquil
enjoyment, but is fraught with toil and anxiety,
and innumerable hazards. "Wealth," says a
certain moral writer, " is nothing in itself; it is
not useful but when it departs from us; its value
is found only in that which it can purchase,
which, if we suppose it put to its best use by
those that possess it, seems not much to deserve
the desire or envy of a wise man. It is certain,
tliat with regard to corporeal enjoyment, money
can neither open new avenues to pleasure, nor
block up the passages of anguish. Disease and
infirmity still continue to torture and enfeeble,
perhaps exasperated by luxury, or promoted by
softness. With respect to the mind, it has rarely
been observed, that wealth contributes much to
quicken the discernment, enlarge the capacity,
or elevate the imagination; but may, by hiring
flattery, or laying diligence asleep, confirm error
and harden stupidity."

Such are some of the views and principles by
which an enlightened mind will naturally esti-
mate the characters and enjoyments of mankind.
Were the great body of the population in every
country qualified to enter into such reasonings,
and to feel the force of such considerations, it
could not fail of being accompanied with nitny
beneficial effects. It would temper that foolish
adulation which ignorance and imbecility so fre-
quently offer at the shrine of weallli and splen-
dor; and would undermine those envious and dis-
contented dispositions with which the lower ranks
are apt to view the riches and possessions of the
great As moral principles and conduct, asso-
ciated with intelligence, are the only proper ob-
jects of respect in the human character, it would
lead persons to form a judgment of the true dig-
nity of nian, not by the glitter of affluence, or
the splendor of equipage, but by those moral and
intellectual qualities and endowments, which, in
every station, demand our regard, and which
constitute the real glory of the human character.
It would tend to counteract the principle of Ava-
rice, which has produced so many miseries and
mischiefs in society, and lo promote that Con-
tentment under the allotments of Divine Provi-
denoa in which consists the chief nart of the

happiness of mankind. And while it woul J coun
teract the tendency to foolish and innnoral pur-
suits, it would direct to those rational pursuits
and enjoyments which are pure and permanent,
and congenial to the high dignity and deslinatiou
of man. In short, were the attention of the
higher and influential classes turned away from
hounding and horse-racing, masquerades, gam-
bling, and such like frivolous amusements, and
directed to the study of useful science, we might
expect to- behold them patronizing philanthropic
and scientific characters in their plans and inves-
tigations, and devoting a portion of their wealth
to carry forward those improvements by which
the comforts of mankind would be increased, and
science and art carried nearer to perfection. The
twentieth part of that wealth which is too fre-
quently spent in fashionable follies, were it de-
voted to such purposes, would be of incalculable
service to the interests both of humanity and of
science.

II. The acquisition of general knowledge would
enable persons to profit by their attendance on pub-
lic instructions.

In the present day, lectures on popular philoso-
phy, astronomy, chemistry, gcologj', and political
economy are occasionally delivered in the princi-
pal cities and towns of Great Britain; but, out
of a population of thirty or forty thousand, it
frequently happens, that scarcely thirty or forty
individuals can be collected to listen to instruc-
tions on such subjects. This, no doubt, is partly
owing to the fee demanded for admission, which
is sometimes beyond the reach of many intelli-
gent persons in the lower walks of life But it
is chiefly owing to the want of taste for such
branches of knowledge — to ignorance of the ele-
ments of general science — and to unacquaintance
with the terms which require to be used in the
explanation of such subjects, arising from the
want of intellectual instruction in early life. — •
Even of the few who generally attend such lec-
tures, there is not perhaps the one half who can
enter with intelligence into the train of reasoning
and illustration brought forward by the lecturer,
or feel much interest in the discussions, excepting
when their eyes are dazzled with some flashy ex-
periment. Hence it follows, that very little know-
ledge comparatively can be communicated in thia
way to the population at large, owing to the defi-
ciency of previous instruction, — and that systems
of intellectual education, more extensive and effi-
cient than those which have hitherto been in ope-
ration, require to be adopted, before the great body
of the people can be supposed to profit by attend-
ance on courses of lectures on any department of
knowledge.

The same remark will apply, with a few modi-
fications, to the instructions, delivered by the
teachers of religion. For want of a proper foun-
dation being previously laid, in the exercise of
tlie rational facultj^, and the acquisition of gene-
ral information, comparatively little advantage is
derived from the sermons and expository lectures
delivered by the ministers of the Gospel. Of a
thousand individuals which may compose a wor-
shiping assembly where religious instructions are
imparted, there are seldom above two hundred
(and most frequently much fewer) that can give
any intelligent account of the train of thought
which has been pursued, or the topics v.'hich have
been illustrated in the discourses to which they
have professed to listen. This may be owing, in
many instances, to the dry and abstract method
by which certain preachers construct their di»>

PUBLIC INSTRUCTIONS.

109

courses, and to the want of energy, and the dull
and monotonous manner in which tliey are de-
livered. But, in the majority of instances, it is
obviously owing to habits of inattention to sub-
jects of an intelloctual nature — to an incapacity
for followinn: a train of iUustration or reasoning —
and to the want of acquaintance with the mean-
ing of many terms whicli theological in.'^tructors
find it expedient to use in the construction of tlieir
discouri^es — and such deficiencies are to be ascribed
to the menta' faculties not having been exercised
from infancj in the pursuit of knowledge and in
rational investigations.

This deticiency of knowledge and intellectual
cnlture seems to be virtually acknowledged by th<5
ministers of religion; since, in tiieir general dis-
courses, they conline themselves, for tlie most
part, to the elucidation of the frst principles of re-
ligion. Instead of exhibibiling a luminous and
comprehensive view of the whole scenery of di-
vine revelation, and illustrating its various parts
from the history of nations, the system of nature,
Bad the scenes of human life — they generally con-
fine their discussions to a few topics connected
with what are termed the fundamental doctrines
of the Gospel. Instead of "going on to perfec-
tion," as the A]ios(le Paul exhorts, by tracing the
elements of Cliristianity in all their bearings on
moral conduct and Christian contemplation, and
endeavoring to carry forward the mind to the
most enlarged views of the perfections of God
and the " glory of his kingdom " — tiiey feel them-
selves under the necessity of recurring again and
again to " the first principles of the doctrine of
Christ" — feeding their hearers "with milk" in-
stead of "strong meat." And the reason assigned
forwah'ing the consideration of the more sub-
lime topics of natural and revealed religion, and
thus limiting the subject of their discussions, is
that their hearers are unqualified to follow them
in the arguments and illustrations which behooved
to be brought forward on such subjects — that such
an attempt would be like speaking to the winds
or beating tiie air, and would infallibly mar their
edification. If this reason be valid (and that it
is partly so there can be little doubt), it implies,
that some glaring deficiency must exist in the
mental culture of the great body of professing
Christians, and that it ought to be remedied by
ever}' proper mean, in order that they may be
qualified to advance in the knowledge of the at-
tributes, the works, and the ways of God, and to
"go on unto perfection."

It is foretold in the sacred oracles, that "men
shall speak of the might of God's terrible acts,"
that "his saints shall speak of the glory of his
kingdom, and talk of his power, to make known to
the sons of men his rnightj^ operations and the
glorious majesty of his kingdom." This predic-
tion has never yet been fulfilled in reference to the
great body of the Christian church. For, where
do we find one out of twenty among the hear-
ers of the Gospel capable of rehearsing the "ter-
rible acts " of God, either in his moral or his
physical operations — of tracing the dispensations
of his provide) ce toward nations and corinnuni-
lies, in a couu'.^cted scries, from the commence-
ment of time, through the successive periods of
history — and of comparing the desolations of
cities and the ruin of empires with the declara-
tions of ancient prophecy? Where do wo find
one out of a hundred capable of expatiating on
the "power" of Jehovah, and on the most strik-
ing displays of tiiis perfection which are exhibited
throughout the vast creation? • Or where shall
we find those who are qualified to display the

magnificence of that empire which is "establish-
ed in the heavens," embracing within its bounda-
I'ies thousands of suns and ten thousands of
worlds — or " to speak," with intelligence, " of the
glory of that kingdom which ruleth over all,"
and thus "to make known to others the mighty
operations" carried on by Jehovah, "and the
glorious nuijestij of his kingdom?" It is obvious
that no such qualifications yet exist among the
majority of members which compose the visible
church. And yet the predictions to which we
refer must be realized, at some period or another,
in the history of the divine dispensations. And
is it not desirable that they should, in some de-
gree, be realized in our own times? And, if so,
ought v/e not to exert all our influence and ener-
gies in endeavoring to accomplish so importanl
and desirable an object? And, in what manner
are our energies in this rer,pcct to be exerted, but
in concerting and executing, without delay, plans
for the universal intelltctual instruction of man-
kind? For, without the communication of know-
ledge to a far greater extent, and much more di-
versified than what has even yet been considered
necessary for ordinary Christians, we can never
expect to behold in the visible church "saints"
endowed with such sublime qualifications as those
to which we have alluded, or the approach of
that auspicious era when" all shall know the
Lord," in the highest sense of the expression,
"from the least even to the greatest."

To obtain a comprehensive, and as far as pos-
sible, a cotivilete view of the system of revelation
in all its parts and bearings, and to be enabled to
comply with all its requirements, is both the duty
and the interest of every man. But, in order to
this attainment, there must be acquired a certain
habit of thinking and of meditating. In vain
does a person turn over whole volumes, and at-
tempt to peruse catechisms, bodies of divinitj', or
even the Scriptures themselves, — be can never
comprehend the dependencies, connections and
bearings of divine truth, and the facts they ex-
plain and illustrate, unless he acquire a habit of
arranging ideas, of laying down principles, and
deducing conclusions. But this habit cannot be
acquired without a continued series of instruc-
tions, especially in the early part of life, accom-
panied with serious attention and profound ap-
l)lication. For want of such pre-requisites the
great body of Ciirislians do not reap half the
benefit they otherwise might from the preaching
of the Gospel ; and " when for the time they ought
to be teachers of others, they have still need that
one t«ach them again, wh.ich be the first princi-
ples of the oracles of God." "Hence it is," says
a celebrated preacher, " tliat the greatest part of
our sermons produce so little fruit, because ser-
mons arc, at least they ought to be, connected
discourses, in which the principle founds the con-
sequence, and the consequence follows the prin-
ciple: all which supposes in the heareu a habit
of meditation and attention. For the same rea-
son, we are apt to be offended when anybody at-
tempts to draw us out of the sphere of our preju-
dices, and are not only ignorant, but ignorant
from gravity, and derive, I know not what glory
from our own stupidity. Hence it is, that a
preacher is seldom or never allowed to soar in his
sermons, to rise into the contemplation of som&
lofty and rapturous objects, but must always de-
scend to the frst principles of religion, as if ho
preached for the first time, or as if his auditors for
the first time heard. Hence our preachers seem
to lead us into obscure path'?, and lo lose us in abr
stract speculations, when they treat of some of

/

110

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

the atlrihiUos of God, such as his faitlifulucss, his
love of order, his regard for his iut(.'ilijri.Mit crea-
tures. It is owing to this that we are, iu some
Bense,weli acquainted with some triitlis of re-
ligion, while wo remain entirely ignorant of
others. Hence also it is, that sonic doctrines
which are true in themselves, denionstfated in
our Scriptures, and essential to religion, bu-conie
errors, yea sources of many errors in our nioutlis,
because wo consider them only in tiiemselves, and
not in connection with other doctrines, or in the
proper places to wliich tliey belong in tiie system
of religion."

Were we then, without delay, to set on foot
plans of universal instruction, on a rational prin-
ciple— were the young generation to be univer-
sally trained up in rational exercises and liabits
of reflection, tirst at Infant Schools, and after-
ward at seminaries of a higher order, conducted
on the same intellectual principle, and this system
of tuiiion continued to tlie age of manhood, we
should, ere long, behold a wonderful change in
tlie state of society, in the intelligence of the
Christian people, and in tlie illustrations of reli-
gion which would be introduced into the pulpit.
We should behold thousands of intelligent wor-
sliipers crowding our religious assemblies, with
miiuls prepared for receiving instruction, and
eagerly listening to argumeius and illustrations
in reference to the most sublime and important
subjects. We should behold our preachers ex-
plaining the first principles of religion with such
clearness and energy, that they should seldom
need to recur to tho subject, " soaring in their
sermons," rising into " the contemplation of
some lofty and rapturous objects" — displaying
the majesty and supremacy of God in the opera-
tion of his moral government among the uations,
descanting on his glorious attributes, exhibiting
his wisdom in the arrangements of nature and
the movements of his providence, illustrating his
omnipotence and grandeur from the glories of the
firmament, and the magnitude of the universe —
directing their hearers to the contemplation of the
works of his hand as illustrations of the decla-
rations of his word — demonstrating the truth of
revelation from its powerful and beneficent effects
— enforcing the holy tempers and the duties which
religion requires from every rational and scriptu-
ral motive — illustrating tho effects of moral evil
from the history of nations and the miseries in
which it has involved individuals and societies —
expatiating on schemes of philanthropy for the
Liiprovement of mankind, and the conversion of
the heathen, and displaying the love and mercy of
God toward our race, and the connections and
bearings of the work of redemption, in its rela-
tion to the angelic tribes and other beings, and in
its glorious and happy consequences on unnum-
bered multitudes of mankind, throughout the
ages of eternity. In such a state of Christian
society we sliould have no dull monotonous
preachers, skimming over the surface of an ab-
stract subject, in a twenty minutes' sermon, and
leaving their hearers as dull, and lifeless, and un-
informed as they found them; but all our public
een'ices would be conducted with life, and energy,
and pathos, and by men of sanctified dispositions
and enlightened understandings, " not given to"
idleness and '• filthy lucre," but having their whole
faculties absorbed in the study of the word, the
ways, and the works of God. And, in order to
expand the minds of tho Christian people, and
to prepare them for listening with intelligence to
such instructions, we should have Courses of
Lectures on Natural History, Philosophy, Astro-

nomy, and General History, attended by thousands
of anxious inquirers, instead of the tens which
can now be induced to attend on such means of
instruction. For knowledge, wheii it is clearly
exhibited, and where a previous desire has been
excited for its acquisition, is a source of enjoy-
ment to tho human mind in every stage of its
progress, from tho years of infancy to tlie latest
period of mortal existence

III. Such a diffusion of knowledge as that to
which we iuive now adverted, loould introduce a
spirit iij tolerance and moderation, and prevent the
recurrence, of those persecutions for conscience*
sake, v:,nch have, so much disc/raced the tcorld.

It is a striking and most inelanchol}' fact in the
history of man, that the most dreadful sufferings
and tortures ever felt by human beings, have been
inflicted on account of difi'erences of opinion re-
specting the dogmas and the ceremonies of reli-
gion. Men have been suffered to remain villains,
cheats and robbers, deceitful, profligate and pro-
fane, to invade the territories of their unoffend-
ing neighbors, to burn cities and towns, to lay
waste provinces, and slaughter thousands of their
feliow-creatures, and to pass witli impunity;
while, in numerous instances, the most pious, up-
right, and jdiilanfhropic characters h;ive been hur-
ried like criminals to stakes, gibbets, racks, and
flames, merely for holding an opinion different
from their superiors respecting a doctrine in reli-
gion, or the manner in which the Divine Being
ought to be worshiped. In the early ages of
Christianity, under the emperor Nero, the Chris-
tians were wrapped up in the skins of wild beasts,
and some of them in this state worried and de-
voured by dogs; others were crucified, and others
dressed in shirts made stiff" with wax, fixed to axle
trees, and set on fire, and consumed in the gar-
dens at Rome. Such dreadful persecutions con-
tinued, under the heathen emperors, with a few
intervals, to the time of Constantine, a period of .
more than two hundred and thirty years It
might not be so much to be wondered at that pa-
gans should persecute the followers of Christ;
but it was not long before pretended Christians
begair to persecute one another on account of cer-
tain sliades of difference in their religious opin-
ions. The persecutions to which the Waldenses
and Albigenses were subjected by the Popish
cliurch, and strangling and burning of supposed
heretics, and the tortures inflicted on those sus-
pectsd of favoring the doctrines of Protestantism
by tiie Spanish inquisition — a court whose history
is written in flames, and in characters of blood, —
exhibit a scries of diabolical cruelties, the recital
of v/hich is enough to make "the ears of every
one to tingle," and to make him feel as if he were
degraded in belonging to a race of intelligences
capable of perpetrating such dreadful enormities.

Even in the British isles such persecutions have
raged, and such cruelties have been perpetrated,
and that, loo, in the name of the benevolent reli-
gion of Jesus Christ. In our times, the nu)re ap-
palling and horrific fo.rms which persecution for-
merly assumed, have been set aside by the civil
laws of the countrj^ but its spirit still remains,
and manifests itself in a variety of different
shapes. What other name can be given to a
power which prevents a numerous and respecta-
ble body of men from holding certain civil offices
and emoluments, because they do not belong to
an established church, and yet compels them to
contribute to the maintenance of the ministers of
that church, although they do not recognize them
as their religious instructors? that denies to a

1

CONTENTIONS AMONG MANKIND

111

dissenter, or his children, the privilege of being
Interred in what is called consecrated ground, and
refuses to allow a bell to be tolled at their fune-
rals?— that, in Scotland, prevents a person, how-
ever distinguished for moral qualilicalions and in-
tellectual acquirements, from being eligible as
teacher of a parochial school, if he is not connected
with the established church? and iu many other
ways attempts to degrade thousands of individu-
als on account of their thinking and acting ac-
cording to the dictates of their conscience? It is
true, indeed, that fires, and racks, and tortures,
and gibbets, and thumb-screws are no longer ap-
plied as punishments for differences of opinion in
religion, for the strong hand of the civil law in-
terposes to prevent them. But were no such
power interposed, the principle which sanctions
euch deprivations as those now mentioned, if car-
ried out to all its legitimate consequences, might
soon lead to as dreadful persecutions as those
which have already entailed indelible disgrace on
the race of man.

Such a spirit of intolerance and persecution is
directly opposed to every rational principle, to
every generous and humane feeling, to every pre-
cept of Christianity, and to every disposition in-
culcated by the religion of Jesus. It is the Idgltt
of absurdity to enforce belief in any doctrine or
tenet, by the application of physical power, for it
never can produce the intended effect; it may
harden and render persons more obstinate in their
opinions, but it can never convey conviction to
the understanding. And if men had not acted
like fools and idiots, as well as like demons, such
a force, in such cases, would never have been
applied. And, as such an attempt is irrational, so
it is criminal in the highest degree, to aim at pro-
ducing conviction by the application of flames,
or by the point of the sword; being at direct va-
■ riance both with the precepts and tlie practice of
the Benevolent Founder of our holy religion.

We have, therefore, the strongest reason to con-
clude, that were the light of science and of Chris-
tianity universally diffused, the hydra of persecu-
tion would never dare, in any shape, to lift up its
heads again in the world. As it was during the
dark ages that it raged in its most horrific forms,
80 the light of intelligence would force it back to
the infernal regions whence it arose, as the wild
beasts of the forest betake themselves to their
dens and thickets at the approach of the rising
sun. Wherever reason holds its ascendency in
the mind, and the benevolence of Christianity is
the great principle of human action, persecution
will never be resorted to, either for extirpating
error or enforcing belief in any opinions. An
enlightened mind will at once perceive, that in
punishing erroneous opinions by fines, imprison-
ment, racks, and flames, there is no fitness between
the punishnent and the supposed crime. The criine
is a mental error, but penal laws have no internal
operation on the mind, except to exasperate its
feelings against the power that enforces them, and
to confirm it more strongly in the opinions it has
embraced. Errors of judgment, whether religious
or political, can only be overturned by arguments
and calm reasoning, and all the civil and ecclesi-
astical despots on earth, with all their edicts, and
bulls, and tortures, will never be able to extirpate
them in any other way. For the more that force
is resorted to to compel belief in any system of
opinions, the more will the mind revolt at such an
attempt, and the more will it be convinced, that
such a system is worthless and untenable, since it
requires such irrational measures for its support.
It can only tend to produce dissimulation, and to

increase the number of hypocrites and deceivers.
An enlightened mind will also perci ive, that such
conduct is no less irreligious than it is irrational;
for, where persecution begins religion ends. Re-
ligion proclaims " peace on earth and good will to
men;" all its doctrines, laws, and ordinances are
intended to promote the happiness of maidvind,
both in " the life that now is and that which is to
come." But actions which tend to injure men iu
their persons, liberty, or property, under the pre-
tense of converting thoui from error, must be di-
rectly repugnant to the spirit of that religion
which is "pure and peaceable, gentle, and easy to
be entreated," and to the character of that Benev-
olent Being, whose " tender mercies are over all
his works." If our reWgion required for its estab-
lishment in the world, the infliction of civil pains
and penalties on those who oppose it, it would be
unworthy of being supported by any rational
being; and it is a sure evidence that it is not the
genuine religion of the Bible, but error and human
inventions, under the mask of Christianity, that
are intended to be establislied, when such means
are employed for ils propagation and suj^port. It
requires very little reflection to perceive, that re-
ligion does not consist in mere opinions or cere-
monial observances, but in the cultivation and
exercise of those heavenly virtues and dispositions
which tend to cement the family of mankind in
brotherly affection, and to prepare them for the in-
tercourses and employments of the celestial world;
and if these are wanting or disregarded, religion
becomes a mere inanity, and it is of little con-
sequence what opinions men profess to entertain
respecting it.

In short, in an enlightened state of society,
men would be disposed to allow the utmost free-
dom of thought on every subject, not inconsistent
with the good order of society, and would never-
theless hold the most friendly intercourse with
each other. They would clearly discern, that the
best way to reclaim the vicious, and to convert
the erroneous, is, not to rail and to threaten, but
to be affable and gentle, to bring forward cogent
arguments, and " in meekness to instruct those
who oppose themselves to the truth." They
would see, that many of those opinions and dog-
] mas, in regard to religion, which huve created
I heart-burnings and dissensions, are comparatively
of trivial importance, — that the doctrines in which
\ all Christians agree are much more numerous, and
of far greater importance, than those about which
they differ, — that there are subjects on which the
i limited faculties of human beings are unable to
! form any clear or decisive opinions,- — that the
j mind must form its opinions, — in accordance v/ith
J the limited or the expansive rangeof ils intellec-
, tual vision, — that where its mental view is nar-
row and confined, its conclusions must bo some-
what ditl'erent from those which are deduced by a
j mind qualified to take in a more extensive field of
vision, — that the philosopher whose mind takea
; in at a grasp the general sj^stem of the world, an4
! the diversified phenomena of the universe, must
' have ideas and modes of thinking materially dif-
' ferent from those of the peasant, whose views are
limited chiefly to the confines of his parish, and
the objects immediately around him, — that there
are few men villfuUy cTToneous, and that ignorance
and vice are the principal causes of false and un-
tenable opinions, — that due allowance ought al-
ways to be made for educational biases, local
prejudices, social influence, and the range of
thought to which individuals have been accus-
tomed,— that the exercise of love toward God
and man is of infinkely greater importance than

112

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

nieTe coincidonce in opinion, and that a complete
ananiniity of opinion on every subject is not to
be expected in tlie present state, perliaps not even
in the future world. Were such considerations
taken into account (and they would be all re-
cognized in an eidijrhtencd state of society), those
contentions and animosities which now rankle in
the Chririliau church, and -separate the different
sectaries, would i)e laid to rest, persecution in
every shape would be held in universal abhor-
rence, and peace, moderation, and candor would
distinguish the fji-ends of religion and all classes
of society.

IV. — A universal diiTusion of knowledge wonld
vanquish the antipathies of nations, and tend to
produce iniinn and harmony among mankind.

'' God lialh made of one blood all nations of
men, for to dwell on all the face of the earth."
But although they arc all the offspring of one
Almighty J3eing, and descended from one original
human pair, they have hitherto lived, for the most
part, in a state of strife and variance, of conten-
tion and warfare. The history of the world con-
tains little else than details of the dissensions of
nations, the lends of chieftains, " the tumults of
the people," the revolutions of empires, and the
scenes of devastation and carnage which have
followed in their train. If we go as far back in
our researches as the earliest historical records
can carry us, we shall find that wars have pre-
vailed, almost without intermission, in every age,
in every country, and among every tribe. No
sooner has one series of battles terminated than
preparations have been made for another; and,
in such contests, magnificent cities have been
tumbled into ruins, provinces desolated, kingdoms
rent asunder, and thousands of thousands of hu-
man beings slaughtered with all the ferocity of
infernal demons. It is not beyond the bounds of
probability to suppose, that, in those scenes of
warfare, the ciglit.'i part of the human race, in
every age, has been destroyed, or, a number of
mankind amounting to nearly tmentij thousand
iniUiuns, which is equal to twenty-rive times the
number of inhabitants presently existing in the
world. And the leaders in such diabolical ex-
ploits, so far from repenting of their atrocities,
have generally been disposed to glory in their
crimes.

Hence the jealousies, the antipathies, and the
hatred which have subsisted, and which still sub-
sist, between neighboring nations. The Turks
hate the Greeks, and, as far as in their power, in-
flict upon them every species of cruelty and in-
justice. The Chinese hate the Europeans, cheat
them if they can, and pride themselves in their
fancied suiieriority over all other nations. Tho
Moors of Africa hate the negroes, plunder their
villages, and reduce them to slaverj-; the King of
Dahomey wages almost continual war with the
neighboring tribes, and adorns the walls of his
palace with the skulls of prisoners taken in battle.
The Algerines and the emperors of Moi-occo live
in a state of continual warfare with Ciiristian na-
tions, seize upon their ships, and reduce their
crews to slavery. The Monucahocs, who inhabit
the inland part of Malacca, live at variance with
zJl around them, and never fail to set fire to the
ripening grain in every field that is unprotected
and uninclcsed. The Arabians are set against
every oilier nation, and roam through their de-
serts, attacking caravans and travelivis of every
description. The inhabitants of one part of New
Zealand are almost in a continual state of enmity
against those of an other,' and the natives of almost

every island in the Indian and Pacific oceans, c
not engaged in actual contests, are in a state '
warlike attitude with regard to each other. Even
nations advanced to high degrees of civilization,
arc found indulging the meanest and most unrea-
sonable jealousies and antipathies in n-ialion to
one another. The Frencli and the English, whom
nature has separated only by a narrow channel of
the sea, and who are distinguished above all other
nations for their discoveries and improvements in
the arts, have, for centuries, fostered a spirit of
jealousy and rivalship which has produced poli-
tical animosities, hatred, wars, and ruin to th«
financial and commercial interests of both na-
tions. During the wars which succeeded the
French revolution, this spirit of- hatred and en-
mity rose to such a pitch, that a large portion of
each nation would have, with pleasure, beheld the
other hurled with fury into the infernal regions.*

Is there no prospect, then, that such antipa-
thies shall ever bo extirpated, and harmony re-
stored to tho distracted nations? Shall the earth
be forever swept with the besom of destruction?
Shall war continue its ravages without intermis-
sion? Shall hatred still rankle among all nations,
and Peace never wave its olive branch over the
world? Are we to sit down in hopeless despair,
that a union among the nations will ever be ef-
fected, because wars have continued srince tlio
beginning of the world? No, — we have no rea-
son to despair of ultimate success, when the mo-
ral machinery, calculated to effectuate the object,
shall be set in motion. As ignorance is the pa-
rent of vice, the nurse of priiie, avarice, ambition,
and other unhallowed passions, from which wars
derive their origin, so, wheji the strongholds of
ignorance shall be demolished, and the light of
intelligence shall shed its influence over the
world, and the opposite principles of humility,
moderation, and benevolence shall pervade the
minds of men, the foundations of the system of
warfare will be shaken, and a basis laid for the
establishment of universal peace. However long
the ravages of war have desolated and convulsed
the world, it is announced in the decree of heaven,
that a period shall arrive " when wars shall ceast
unto the ends of the earth." And the era w^hen
warriors "shall beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks, and learn
the art of war no more," is coeval with the period
foretold in ancient prophecy, when " the know-
ledge of tho Lord shall cover the earth, and when
all shall know him from the least to the greatest."

Knowledge has a tendency to unite tlie hearts
of oil who are engaged in its pursuit; it forms a
bond of union among its votaries more firm and
permanent than that which unites princes and
statesmen; especially if it is conjoined with Chris-
tian principles and virtuous dispositions. Con-
geniality of seihiments, and similarity of pursuits,
gradually weaken the force of vulgar prejudices,
and tend to demolish those barriers which the
jealousies of nations have thrown around each
other. True philosophers, whether English, Swe-
dish, Russian, Swiss, German, or Italian, main-
tain an intimate and aflfectionate corresiiondence
with each other on eveiy subject of literature and

* Daring the wars alluded to, a gentleman (conversing
witli tlie author on the subject), who was ntterins; the most
virnlent ijiveclives against the French, concluded by saying,
" After all I wish no great evil to the French, / only wish
they were all safely landed in /ifflBcn," plainly iniiniating,
that he considered them unworthy to live upon the earth,
and that tn'ie sooner they were cnt off from it and sent to the
otlier world, so much the better, whether their fate should
be to dwell in the shades of Tartams or the abodes of Ely-
sium,

ANTIPATHIES OF NATIONS UNDERMINED.

113

icienco, notwitJistanding the antipathies of their
respective nutions During the lute long-continu-
ed and destructive warfare between tiie French
and Englisii, which was curried on witix unprece-
dented hostility and rancor, the naturalists, nia-
tliemuticiuns, astronomers, and clietnists cf tiie
two countries, held the most IVieudly corresjjon-
donce in relation to the subjects connected with
their respective departments, in so far as the
jealousies of their political rulers would permit.
In the communication of the French and En<rlish
philosophers respecting the progress of scientilic
discovery, we find few traces of nationality, and
should scarcely be able to learn from such com-
munications tiiat their respective nations were en-
gaged in warfare, unless vvlien they lament the
obstructions which interrupted their regular cor-
respondence, and their injurious effects on the
interests of science. It is a well known fact, that,
during the late war, when political animowilies
ran so high, the National Institute of Franco an-
nounced prizes for the discussion of scientific
questions, and invited the learned in other na-
tions, not even excepting the English, to engage
in the competition; and one of our countrymen.
Sir Humphrey Davy, actually obtained one of
the most valuable and distinguished of these
honorary awards.

When knowledge is conjoined with a recogni-
tion of the Christian precept, " Thou shalt love
thy neighbor as thyself," its possessor will easily
be made to enter into such considerations as the
following, and to feel their force: — That all men,
to whatever nation or tribe they belong, are the
•/hildren of one Almighty Farexit, endowed with
the same corporeal organs, the same intellectual
powers, and the same lineaments of the Divine im-
age— tliat they are subject to the same animal and
Intellectual wants, exposed to the same accidents
•nd calamities, and susceptible of the same plea-
irares and enjoyments — that they have the same
capacities for attaining to higher degrees of know-
ledge and felicity, and enjoy the same hopes and
prospects of a blessed immortality — that God dis-
tributes among them all, thousands of benefits,
embellishing their habitations with the same rural
beauties, causing the same sun to enlighten tbem,
the same vital air to make their lungs play, and
the same ruins and dews to irrigate their ground,
and ripen their fields to harvest — that they are all
capable of performing noble achievements, heroic
exploits, vast enterjirises; of displaying illustrious
virtues, and of making important discoveries and
improvements — that they are all connected to-
gether by numerous ties and relations, preparing
for each other the bounties of Nature and the pro-
ductions of art, and conveying them by sea and
land from one country to another; one nation fur-
nishing tea, ai. other sugar, another wine, another
silk, another cotton, and another distributing its
manufactures in both hemispheres of the globe — in
short, that they are all under the moral government
of the same omnipotpnt Being, who " hath mad<^
of one blood all nations of men to dwell on the
face of all the earth, who hath determined the
boundaries of their habitations," who carries them
yearly around the center of light and heat, and
who " gives them rain from heavrn and fruitful
•easons, filling their liearts with food and glad-
jiass." How various, tlien, the ties, how sacred
tixd indissoluble the bonds, which should unite
men of all natiorfs! Every man, whether he be
a Jew or a Greek, a Barbarian or a .Scythian, a
Turk or a Frenchman, a German or a Swede, a
Hottentot or an Indian, an Englishman or a Chi-
nese, is to be considered as our kinsman and our
Vol. I.— 8

brother, and, as such, ought to be embraced with
benevolence and aflectiou. In whatever region
of the globe he resides, whatever customs or man-
ners he adopts, and to whatever religious system
he adheres, he is a member of the same family to
which we all belong. And shall we feel inJiffe-
rent to our brethren, shall we indulge resentment
and hostility toward them, because they are sep-
arated from us by a river, by a channel, by an arm
of the sea, by a range of mountains, or by an ar-
bitrary line drawn b)'^ the jealousy of despots, or
because their government and poliej- are different
from ours? Ought we not, on the contrary, to
take a cordial interest in everything that concerns
them — to rejoice in their prosperity, to foel com-
passion on account of the ravages, desolation, aud
misery which error and folly, vice and tyranny
may have produced among them; and to alleviate,
to the utmost of our power, the misfortunes and
oppressions under which they groan? Reason, as
well as Christianity, spurns at that narrow-minded
patriotism whicli confines its regards to a particu-
lar country, and would promote its interests by
any means, although it should prove injurious to
every other nation. Whatever tends to the gen-
eral good of the whole human family, will ulti-
mately be found conducive to the prosperity and
happiness of every particular nation and tribe;
while, on the other hand, a selfish and ungenerous
conduct toward other communities, and an attempt
to injure or degrade them, will seldom fail to de-
prive us of the benefits we wished to secure, and
to expose us to the evils we intended to avert.
Such appear in fact to be the principles of God's
moral government among the nations, and such
the sanctions by which the laws of natural justico
are enforced.

Were such sentiments iiniversally recogniza^
and ajjpreciated, the antipathies of nations wouM
speedily be vanquished, and union and harmony
prevail among all the kindreds of the earth. And
what a multitude of advantages would ensue—
what a variety of interesting scenes would be pre-
sented— what an immense number of delightful
associations would be produced, were such a union
effected among mankind! Were men over all the
globe living in peace and harmony, every sea would
be navigated, every region explored, its scenery
described, its productions collected, its botanical
peculiarities ascertained, and its geological struc-
ture investigated. The geography of the globe
would be brought to perfection; its beauties, har-
monies, and sublimities displayed, and the useful
productions of every clime transported to every
country, and cultivated in every land. Science
would, of course, be improved, and its boundaries
enlarged; new physical facts would be discovered
for confirming and illustrating its principles, and a
broad foundation laid for carrjing it to perfection.
While, at present, every traveler in quest of sci-
entific knowledge in foreign lands, is limited ia
his excursions, and even exposed to imminent dan-
ger, by the rancor of savage tribes and the jealousy
of despotic governments — in such a state of things,
every facility would be given to his researches,
and all the documents of historj', and the trea-
sures of nature and art, laid open to his inspection.
He would be conducted, as a friend and brother,
through ever)' city and rural scene; the processes
of arts and manufactures, the curiosities of na-
ture, and the archives of literature and science
would be laid open to his view; and he would re-
turn to his native land loaded with whatever is
curious and useful in nature and art, and enriched
with new accessions to his treasures of knowledge.
The knowledge and arts of one countrf would

114

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

thus be quicklj- tnuisportoJ to another; iigricul-
tural, ni;uiaracturiiig' uiul mi^chanical iinprove-
meiils would be gia liially inlro.lucjJ into every
region; barren wastes would be ciiltiviited, forests
cut down, marshes drained, citi-s founded, tem-
ples, scliools and academies erected, modes of rapid
cominuaieatiou between distant countries esta-
blished, mutual interchanges of affection promo-
ted, and "the once barren deserts made to rejoice
and l)lossom as the rose."

We should then behold the inliabitants of~.dis-
tant countries arriving on our shores — not with
tomahawks, clubs, spears, muskets, and other hos-
tile weapons, but with the symbols of peace and
the proJuctions of their respective climes. We
should behold the Malayans, the Chinese, the
Cambodians, the Burmese, the Persians and the
Japanese, unfurling their banners ou our coasts
and rivers, unloading tiieir cargoes of tea, colFee,
silks, nankeens, embroideries, ciu-pets, pearls, dia-
monds, and gold and silver ornaments and uteu-
. sils — traversing our streets and squares in the cos-
tume of their respective countries, gazing at our
shops and edifices, wondering at our manners and
customs, mingling in our a;?3emblies, holding in-
tercourse with our artists and philosophers, atten-
ding our scientific lectures and experiments, ac-
quiring a knowledge of our arts and sciences, and
returning to their native climes to report to their
countrymen the information they had received,
and to introduce among them our discoveries and
improvements. " We should behold the tawny
Indians of Southern Asia forcing their way up its
mighty rivers in their leatiiern canoes, to the ex-
tremities of the north, and displaying on the fro-
zen shores of the icy sea, the riches of the Ganges;
the Laplander covered with warm fur arriving in
southern markets, in his sledge drawn by rein-
deer, and exposing for sale the sable skins and
furs of Siberia; and the copper-colored American
Indian traversing the Antilles, anil conveying from
isle to isle his gold and emeralds." We should
occasionally behold numerous caravans of Arabi-
ans, mounted on their dromedaries and camels,
and tribes of Tartars, Bedouins, and Moors visit-
ing the civilized countries of Europe, laden with
the rarities and riches of their respective countries,
admiring the splendor of our cities and public
edifices, learning our arts and manufactures, ac-
quiring a knowledge of our literature and sciences,
purchasing our commodities, procuring specimens
of our philosophical instruments, steam-engines,
and mechanical powers — inviting agriculturists,
artists, mechanics, teachers, ministers of religion,
matliomaticians and philosophers, to settle among
them, for the purpose of improving their system
of husbandry, rearing cities, towns and villages,
disseminating useful knowledge, and introducing
the arts and enjoyments of civilized society — at
the same time inviting them to contract marriages
with their sisters and daughters, and thus, by new
alliances, to reunite the branches of the hnmanfamily,
which, though descended from one common pa-
rent, have been so long disunited, — and which
disunion, national prejudices and ant'pathies, as
well 'as climate and complexion, have tended to
perpetuate. And, while we were thus instrumen-
tal in imparting knowledge and improvements to
other nations, we ourselves should reap innumera-
ble advantages. Our travelers and navigators, into
whatever regions they might wish to penetrate,
would feel secure from every hostile attick, and
would recognize in every one th^y met a friend
and a brother, ready to relieve their necessities, to
contribute to their comfort, and to direct them in
their mercantile arrangements and scientific re-

.searches. Our merchants And nianufactureri
would find numerous emporiums for their goodn,
and new openiags for commercial enterprise, and
would import from other countries new conveni-
ences and comforts for the use of their country-
men at home.

From such friendly intercourses we should learn/
more particularly than we have yet done, tlie hia-
tonj of oth(>r nations, and the peculiar circumstan-
ces in which they have existed, particularly of
those tribes which have been considered as moving
beyond the range of civilized society. All that
we at present know of the history of many foreign
nations, consists of a few insulated sketches and
anecdotes, picked up at random by travelers who
passed only a few days or weeks in tlie countries
they describe, who were beheld with suspicion,
and were imp Tfectly acquainted with the lan-
guages of the inhabitants. But, from a familiar
and conlidential intercourse, we should become
acquainted with the whole series of their history,
so far a% it is known, wiiich might not only be
curious and interesting in itself, but might throw
a ligiit on the records of other nations, on the
facts of sacred history, and ou the general history
of the world. We might thus know something
of the circumstances wiiich attended the early (lis-
persion of mankind, — the motives which deter-
mined each tribe to choose its separate habitation
in an unknown region, and which indueod them
to cross unknown arms of the sea, to traverse
mountains which presented no path, and rivers
which had not yet received a name, and whose
commencement and termination were alike un-
known. The information which distant tribes
refuse us, w^hen we approach them like warlike
adventurers or ambitious merchants, vi-ould be
freely communicated, when we mingled with them
as friends and benefactors, and especially, after we
had been instrumental in meliorating their phy^ji-
cal 'and moral condition, and in communicating
to them our improvements.

And, in the name of all that is sacred and bene-
volent, what should hinder such harmonious and
atFectionate intercourses betvs^een nations from
being universally realized? Are we not all breth-
ren of one family? Have we not all one Father?
Has not one God created us? Does not the same
planet support us, and the same atmosphere sur-
round us? Does not the same sun cheer and en-
lighten us? Have we not the same physical organ-
ization, the same mental powers, and t!ie same
immortal destination? And is it not the interest
of every individual of the human family that such
a friendly intercourse should be estabiislied? Are
tliere any insuperable obstructions, any impassable
barriers, any natural impossibilities, that prevent
such a union among the nations? No, — know-
ledge, combined Yi^ith moral principle and true re-
ligion, if universally diffused, would speedily ef-
fectuate this wonderful transformation. Enlighten
the understanding, direct the moral powers of
man, extend the knowledge of Christianity
through the world, and a broad foundation will
be laid for universal improvement, and universal
friendship among all nations.

But, in order that we may be instrurcental la
preparing the way for so desirable an event, ouf
conduct toward other nations, and partieul.irly
toward uncivilized tribes, must be very differeut
from what it has generally been in the ages that
are past. We must become, not the plunderers
and destroyers, but the instructors and the bene-
factors of mankind. Instead of sending foith the
artillery of war, for the subjugation of distant
nations, we must uniformly display tlie bauner

UNION IN THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.

115

of love and the branch of Peace; instead of
disjKitc'iuiig crowds of nL^edy adventurers, fir'd
with the accursed lovo of gold, to phinder an 1 to
kill, like tiio SpaniarJs in their conquest of Mexi-
co and Poru, — we must send fortii arinios of en-
ligliteaed benefactors, to traverse the benighted
nations, to carry the knowledge of divine trutli
witliin the region of Pagan darkness, to impart to
theiu the blessings of in^tructinn, and the coni-
fcrts .u7id conv'cni.Mices of civilized life. Instead of
Ian ling on their shores swords and spears and
musketrj', — plowshares, pruning ho(^s, and every
other agriculuind implement, must be plentifully
supplied to all the inhabitants. Instead of carry-
ing yito slavery their children an! relatives, and
inibitt.'ring their lives with cru^d treatment, like
thT Spaniards and the Portugnesi, in reference to
the African negroes, we must proclaim " liberty to
tSe ciplives, and the opening of the prison-doors
to them that are bound." In short, our conduct
must bo almost diametrically opposite to that
wliich political intriguers have generally pursued
toward other states, if we would promote union
among the nations. Our selfishness must be
changed into beneficence, our pride into humility,
our avarice into generosity, and our malignity
into kindness and benevolence. Kindness and
benevolent attentions will sometimes subdue even
tlie most ferocious animals, and will seldom fail
to soften the breast of the most savage people, and
to win their affections. There is scarcely an in-
dividual within the range of the human species,
or even within the range of animated nature, but
is susceptible of the impressions of love; and if
such principles and affections were to direct the
future intercourses of nations, we might expect,
ere long, to behold the commencement of that
happy era, when " the wilderness and solitary
place shall be glad, when nation shall no longer
lift up'sword against nation, when righteousness
and praise shall spring forth before all the nations,
and when there shall be nothing to hurt or de-
Blroy" among all the families of the earth.

V. — A general diffusion of knowledge would
be one general mean of promoting union in the
Qiri Hiaa Church.

It is a lamentable fact, that throughout the
w!io! ' world, there is no system of religion, the
votariei of which are subdivided into so many
s"ctari:js as those who profess an adherence to the
Christian faith. Within the limits of Great Bri-
tain, there are perhaps not much fewer than a
hunlred different denominations of Christians
belonging to the Protestant church. We have
Calvinists, Arminians, Baxterians, Antinomians,
Arians and Unitarians, Episcopalians, Presbyteri-
ans, Methodists, Baptists, and Independents, — Se-
ced-^rs, Brownists, Sandemanians, Quakers, Mora-
vians, Swedenborgians, Millenarians, Sabbatari-
ans, Oniversalists, Subiapsarians, Supralapsarians,
Dunkcrs, Kilhamites, Shakers, &.c. Of .some of
these there are several subdivisions. Thus, there
are three or four denominations of Scced^rs, four
or five of Baptists, three or four of Methodists,
and two oi three of Glassites or Sandemanians.
Most of these denominations recognize the leading
trutlis of divine revelation, — the natural and
moral attributes of the Deity, — the fall of man,
— the neci'ssity of a Saviour, — the incarnation of
Chri-;t, — the indispensable duty of faith in him
for the remission of sins, — the necessity of regen-
eration, and of holiness in principle and practice,
— the obligation of the moral law, — the doctrine
of a resurrection from the dead, and of a future
»tat<> of rewards and puuishraents, — in short,

everything by which Christianity is distinguished
from Maliomeiianism, Pagan i.lolatry, and all tha
other systems of r.'ligion that prevail in the world.
Yet, while agreeing in the leading doctrines of
tlie Christian faith, they continue in a slate of se-
paration from eacli other, as if they had no com*
mon bond of union, and, as rival sects, are too
froqujntly in a state of alienation, and even of
open hostility. The points in wliich they differ
are frequently so minute as to be incapable of be-
ing accurately defined, or rendered palpable to an
impartial inquirer. Wiiere the difference is most
apparent, it consists chiefly in a diversity of
opinion respecting sucii questions as the follow-
ing:— Whether the election of man to eternal life
be absolute or conditional, — wli'tiier Christ died
for the sins of the wliole world, or only for a
limited number, — whether there be a gradation or
an equality among the ministers of the Christian
church, — whether every particular society of
Christians has power to regulate its own affairs,
or ought to be in subjection to higher courts of
judicature, — whether the ordinance of the Lord's
Supper should be received in the posture of sitting
or of kneeling, — whether Baptism should be ad-
ministered to infants or adults, or be performed
by dipping or sprinkling, &c. Such are some of
the points of dispute, which have torn tiie Ciiris-
tian church into a number of shreds,' and produced
among the different SL>ctaries, jealousies, recrimi-
nations and contentions. When we consider the
number and the importance of the leading facts
and doctrines in which they all agree, it appears
somewhat strange and even absurd, that they
should stand aloof from each other, and even as-
sume a hostile attitude, on account of such com-
paratively trivial differences of opinion, especially
when they all profess to be promoting the samo
grand object, traveling to the same heavenly
country, and expect, ere long, to sit down in har-
mony in the mansions above. The grand princi-
ples of human action, which it is the chief object
of Revelation to establish, and the precepts of
morality which ought to govern the affections and
conduct of every Christian, are recognized by all;
and why then should t'^y separate from each
other, and remain at variance on account of mat-
ters of "doubtful disputation?"

The evils which flow from such a divided state
of Christian society, are numerous and much to
be deplored. A sectarian spirit has burst asunder
the bonds of Christian love, and prevented that
harmonious and affectionate intercoursis among
Christians which is one of the chief enjoyments
of social religion. It lias infused jealousies, fan-
ned the flame of animosity and discord, set
friends, brethren and families at variance, and
shattered even civil communities into factions
and parties. It has kindled contentions and heart-
burnings, produced envyings, animosities, and
hatred of brethren, burst asunder the strongest
ties of natural affection, and has led professed
Christians to violate the plainest dictates of hu-
manity and of natural justice. It has excited a
feverish zeal for the pecu^'aritics of a sectary,
while the distinguishing features of Christianity
have either been overlooked or trampled under
foot. It has wasted money unnecessarily in erect-
ing separate places of worship, which might have
been devoted to the promotion of the interests of
our common Christianity. It has oven corrupted
our very prayers, infused into them human pas-
sions, and a spirit of party, and confined them to
the narrow limits of our own sectary, as if tlie Om-
nipotent, whom we profess to adore, were biased
by the same prejudices as ourselves, and dispensed

116

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

his favors according to our contracted views.
Could \vc fly with the swiftness of an angelic
messenger thnnigh thii various assemblies con-
vened on the Christiun Sabbitth, while they are
offering up their prayers to heaven, wiiat u re-
pulsive and discordant scene would present itself,
when wo beheld the. leaders of certain sectaries
confining their petiiions to their own votaries,
Imploring a special blessing upon themselves, as
if they were the chi -f favorites of heaven, lament-
ing the errors of other.s, throwing out innondoes
against rival sectaries, taking credit to themselves
as the chief depositories of gospel truth, and
thanking God for their superior attainments in
Christian perfection! How unlike tlie noble,
benevolent and expansive spirit vvliich Christian-
ity inculcates! — Nay, the intolpranco which the
divisions of the Christian church have engendered,
has established Inquisitions for the purpose of
torturing and burning supposed heretics, — has
banished, imprisoned, pkindercd, hanged and com-
mitted to the flames, tliousands and tens of thou-
sands, on account of their religious opinions;
and many eminent characters, illustrious for their
piety and virtue, have fallen victims to such un-
christian barbarities.

In particular, the divisions and contentions of
Christians have been one of the chief causes of
the progress of infidelity. The truth and excel-
lence of our religion can only be exhibited to the
world by its effects. And when, instead of love,
union and harmony among its professors, we be-
hold bitter envyings, schisms, contentions and
animositi?s, there appears nothing to allure vi-
cious and unthinking minds to examine its evi-
dences, and to give it an impartial hearing. " First
agree among yourselves," infidels reply, " and
then we will consider tlie truth and importance
of your opinions." Such a mode of reasoning
and conduct is indeed both absurd and unfair,
when the genuine doctrines and requisitions of
Christianity are clearly stated in its original re-
cords, and which they ought to examine for them-
selves; but it is a circumstance much to be de-
plored, that Christians, by their sectarian animo-
sities, should throw a stumbling-block in the way
of rational investigation into the truths and foun-
dations of religion, and cause thousands to stumble
and fall to their destruction. But, what is perhaps
worst of ail, it has greatly retarded, and still re-
tards, the universal propagation of Christianity
through the world. Something has indeed been
effected, of late years, by various sections of the
Christian church, in the different Missionary enter-
prises wliich they have conducted, in their separ-
ate capacities; but it is not too much to affirm,
that, had they acted in combination and in har-
mony, in the missionary cause, ten times more
good would have been effected than has ever j'et
been accomplished. Beside, in our present mode
of propagating the Gospel among the heathen, Ave
are to a certam extent, sowing the seeds of those
unhappy dissensions which have so long prevailed
among ourselves. And, therefore, until the dif-
ferent religious denominations, in this and other
Christian lands, be brought into a more general
and harmonious union, we cannot expect to be-
hold a rapid and extensive propagation of primi-
tive Christianity throughout the Pagan world.

Such are some of the evils which a sectarian
spirit has produced in the Christian Church. It is
almost needless to say, that they do not originate
in the genius of the Gospel, which is directly
opposed to such a spirit, but in the corruption of
human nature, and the perversion of true religion.
They have their rise in ignorance, — in ignorance I

both of tiie revelations of the Bible, considired at
one whole, and of those tniliis of history, philo-
sophy, and general science, which havea tendencjf
to liberalize and to enlarge the capacity of th«
human mind. This ignorance naturally leads ta
selj-cnnceit, and an obstinate attachment to precon-
ceived opinions and parly prejudices, to attaching
an undue importance to certain subordinate ana
favorite opinions, and, overlooking the grand es
sentials of the Christian scheme; and thus pre-
vents the mind from expanding its views, and
taking a lutninous and comprehensive survey of
the general hearings and distinguishing features
of the religion of the Bible. And, if such nume-
rous and serious evils have followed from the di-
visions of Christians, it becomes an importan;
inquiry, whether they have ever been productive
of advantages sufficient to counterbalance such
pernicious effects. Is an obscure question, in
relation to church-government, to be set in com-
petition with Christian union? Is a metaphysical
opinion about the sovereignty of God, and his
councils during eternity past, to be obstinately
maintained, although the strongest bonds of Chris-
tian love should tliereby be burst asunder? Is
the rigid adherence to an opinion respecting dip-
ping or sprinkling in baptism, or the maintenance
of a dogma in reference to the extent of Christ's
redemption, under pretense of bearing a testimony
in behalf of Divine truth, to be considered as suf-
ficient to counterbalance the numerous evils
which have flowed fro!n a sectarian spirit? Can
we suppose, that He whose law is love, wlio hath
commanded us to "keep the unity of the Spirit
in the bond of peace," and who hath declared,
again and again, in the most explicit terms, "By
tliis shall all men know that ye are my disciples,
if ye love one another;" are we to suppose, tha^
He will consider the maintenance of such opin-
ions, under such pretenses, as a. warrant for the
infringement of the law of charitj', or the breach
of Christian union, or that he sets a higher value
on intellectual subtlelios and speculative opinions,
than on the practical requisitions of his word, and
the manifestations of Christian temper and con-
duct? To answer these questions in the affirma-
tive, would be little short of offering an insult to
the King of Zion. Whatever is not so clearly
revealed in Scripture, that every rational and seri-
ous inquirer does not plainl}"^ perceive it to be
truth or duty, can scarcely be supposed to be of
such importance, as to warrant the breach of the
unity of the church. For the inspired writers,
who were the vehicles of a revelation from heaven,
can never ba supposed to have used vague or am-
biguous language in explaining and enforcing
matters of the first importance.

If we consider the temper and conduct of many
of those who are sticklers upon phrases, and zeal-
ous about matters of mere form, we shall be con-
vinced how few beneficial practical effects are the
result of a narrow sectarian spirit. While they
appear fired with a holy zeal lest the purity of
divine ordinances should be tainted by unwaslied
hands, you will sometimes find them immersed in
the grossest sensualities and immoralities of con-
duct. While they are severe sticklers for what
they conceive to be the primitive form and order
of a Christian church, you will not unfrequontly
find disorder reigning in their families, the instruc-
tion of Iheir children and servants neglected, and
a sour and boisterous spirit manifested In all iheii
intercourses with, their domestics. Yea, you will
find, in numerous instances, that they scruple not
to practice /rauf/s in the course of their business,
and that you can have less dependence on their

EVIL? OF SECTARIANISM.

117

proniisc-s than ou tliose of the men of the world,
wlio make no pretenses to religion. As un excel-
lent writer has well observed : "An anient tem-
perament converts the enthusiast into a zealot,
who, while he is laborious in winnin<r ])roselytes,
discharges common duties very remissly, and is
found to bo a more punctilious observer of his
creed than of his word. Or, if his imagination
is fertile, he becomes a visionary, who lives on
oetter terms with angels and with seraphs, than
with his children, servants, and neighbors; or, he
is one who, while he reverences the ' thrones,
dominions, and powers' of the invi^^ible world,
vents liis spleen in railing on all-' dignities and
powers on earth.' "*

Wliat -are the remedies, then, which may be
applied for healing the unhappy divisions which
have arisen in tlie Christian clrnrch? It is evi-
dent, in the first place, that we mus,t discard the
greater part of those human sysfems of divinity, and
those polemical writings and controversies, which
have fanned the flame of animosity, and which
have so frequently been substituted in the room
of the oracles of God. We must revert to the
Scriptures as the sole standard of every religious
opinion, and fix our attention chiefly on those
matters of paramount importance which are obvi-
ous to every attentive reader, and which enter into
the essence of the Christian system. For, to
maintain, that the Scriptures are not sufficiently
clear and explicit in regard to everything that has
a bearing on the present comfort and the ever-
lasting happiness of mankind, is nothing short of
a libjl on the character of the sacred writers, and
an ii.Llignity otfered to Him by whose Spirit they
were inspired. We must also endeavor to discard
the "vain janglings," the sophistical reasonings,
and the metaphysical refinements of the schools,
and the technical terms of polemical theology,
Buchas tnriity,hypost.atical union, sacraments, &,c.,
and, in our discussions, especially on mysti-rious
or doubtful subjects, adhere as nearly as possible
to the language of the inspired writers. In par-
ticular, more attention ought to be paid to the
manifestation of Christian love, and the practice
of religion, than to a mere coincidence of view
with regard to certain theological dogmas. For
it is easy to conceive, that a man may be anima-
ted by holy principles and dispositions, although
he may have an obscure conception, or may even
entertain an erroneous opinion, of some of the
doctrines of religion; and we know by experi-
ence, that men may contend zealously for what
are consiilered orthodox doctrines, and yet be des-
titute of the spirit of religion, and trample on its
most important practical rcrjuirements. And,
were the spirit of our holy religion thoroughly to
pervade the uiffercnt sections of the church — were
Christian affection more generally manifested
among all who bear the Christian name, and the
practical injunctions of Christianity iiniformly
exemplitied in their conduct, we should soon be-
hold a general coincidence of opinion on every-
tliiug that can be deemed important in religion,
and a mutual candor and forbearance, in regard
to all subordliiate opinions, that do not enter into
the essence of religion, and which ought to be
left to the private judgment of every inquirer.

But I entertain little hope that such measures
will be adopted, and an object so desirable accom-
plished, while so much ignorance still pervades
tlie niii.ds of the majority of Christians, and while
tlio range of their intellectual views is so much
contracted. It is only when the effects of a gen-

* Natural History of Enthosiasm, p. 14.

oral diffusion of knowledge shall be more exten-
sively felt, that a more general and coruial union
of the Christian world is to bo expected. Light
in the understanding is the source of all reforma-
tions, the detector of all evils and abuses, the cor-
rector of all errors and mi::concepfions, aini thd
stimulus to every improvement. It dispels the
mists which prevented our distinct vision <f the
objects of our contemplation, discovers the stum-
bling-blocks over which we had fallen, points out
the devious ways intb which we had wandered,
and presents before us every object iji its just
magnitude and proportions. The knowledge to
which I allude consists, in the fust place, in a
clear and comprehensive view of the whole sys-
tem of divine revelation, in all its connections and
bearings, — and, in the next place, in an acquain-
tance with all those historical, geographical, and
scientific facts which have a tendency to expand
the capacity of the mind, and to enlarge our con-
ceptions of the attributes of God, and of the
ways of his providence. Wherever the mind is
thoroughly enlightened in the knowledge of such
subjects, the tendency to bigotry and sectarianism
will quickly be destroyed, and the partition walls
which now separate the difTerent sections of the
church will gradually be undermined and crum-
ble into dust. This might be illustrated from the
very nature of the thing. A man whose mind is
shrouded in comparative ignorance, is like a per-
son who lands on an unknown country in the
dusk of the evening, and forms his opinion of its
scenery and inhabitants from the obscure and
limited view he is obliged to take of them, during
the course of a few hours, — while he whose mind
is enlightened in every department of human and
divine knowledge, is like one who has taken a
minute and comprehensive survey of the same
country, traversed its length and breadth, mingled
with every class of its inhabitants, visited its
cities, towns, and villages, and studied its arts and
sciences, its laws, customs and antiquities. The
one can form but a very imperfect and inaccurate
conception of the country he has visited, and
could convey only a similar conception to others,
— the other has acquired a correct idea of the
scene he has surveyed, and can form an accurate
judgment of the nature, the tendenc)', and bear-
ings of the lav/s, institutions, and political econ-
omy which have been the subject of his investi-
gations. So that the accounts given by these
two visitors, of the same country, behooved to be
materially different. The sectarian bigot is one
who has taken a partial and limited view of one
or two departments of the field of revelation, who
fixes his attention on a few of its minute objects,
and who overlooks the sublimity and the grand
bearings of its more magnificent scenery. The
man of knowledge explores it throughout its
length and breadth, fixes his eye upon its distin-
guishing features, and brings all the information
lie has acquired from other quarters, to assist his
conceptions of the nature, the bearings, and rela-
tions of the multifarious objects presented to his
view. The luminous views he has taken of the
leading objects and designs of revelation, and the
expansive conceptions he has acquired of the
perfections of Him by whom it was imparted, —
will never suffer him to believe, that it is agree-
able to the will of God that a Christian society
should be rent asunder in the spirit of animosity,
because one party maintains, for example, that
dipping is the true mode of performing baptism,
and tliL* other, that it should be adininistered by
sprinkling; while they both recognize it as a di-
vine ordinance, and symbolical of spiritiuil bles-

118

ON THE GENERAL- DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

sings, — or that such conduct can have a tendency
to ])roinote tlio glory of God, and the best inter-
ests of men. He can never believe that that
incomprehensible Being who inhabiteth eternity,
who siiperinti.»nds the affairs of ten thousand
worlds, and who hath exhibited in his word the
way to eternal life, in tlie clearest light — should
attach so great a degree of importance to sucii
questions, that cither the one party or the other
should be considered as exclusive supporters of
divine trutte while they infringe the law of Chris-
tian lovo,^d forbear "to keep the unity of the
spirit in the bond of peace." For, in reference
to the example now stated, a few drops of water
are equally a s>/mhol or emblem as the mass of
liquid in a mighty river ; — and to consider the
Almighty as beholding with approbation such
speculations, and their consequent effects, would
be little short of affixing a libel on his moral
character. The man of knowledge is disposed to
view in the same light, almost all the minute
questions and circumstantial opinions, vvhicli have
been the cause of separating tlie church of Christ
into its numerous compartments.

If we attend to facts, we shall find, that, in
aiuety-nine cases out of a liundred, the man who
is a violent party-partisan, is one whose ideas run
iu one narrow track, and who has taken a very
Ihnited and partitd survey of the great objects of
religion. He is generally unacquainted with the
range, of history, the facts of science, the philo-
sophy of nature, and tiie physical and moral state
of distant nations. His mind never ranges over
the globe, nor contemplates the remote wonders
of the Creator's empire. His reading is chiefly
confined to the volumes and pamphlets published
by the partisans of his own sect; he can run over
the scriptures and arguments which support his
opinions, like a racer in his course, but, if you
break in upon his train of thought, and require
him to prove his positions, as he goes along, he is
at a stand, and knows not 1)0W to proceed. While
he magnifies, with a microscopic eye, the impor-
tance of his own peculiar views, he almost over-
looks the grand and distinguishing truths of the
Bible, in which all true Christians are agreed.
On the other liand, there is scarcely one instance
out of a liundred, of men whose minds are tho-
roughly imbued with the truths of science and
revelation, being the violent abettors of sectarian
opinions, or indulging in party animosities; for,
knowledge and liberality of sentiments almost
uniformly go hand in hand. While we ought to
recognize and appreciate every portion of divine
truth, in so far as we perceive its evidence, — it is,
nevertheless, the dictate of an enlightened unuer-
Btauding, that those truths which are of tlie first
importance, demand our first and chiff atterUion.
Every controversy, agitatL-d among Christians on
subjects of inferior importance, has a direct ten-
dency to withdraw the attention from the great
objects which distinguish the revelations of the
Bible; and there cannot be a more absurd or fatal
delusion, than to acquire correct notions on mat-
ters comparatively uiiimporlant, while we throw
into the shade, or but faintly apprehend, those
truths which are csseiilial to religion, and of ever-
lasting moment. Every enlightened Christian
perceives the truth and importance of this posi-
tion; and were it to be universally acted upon,
sectarian divisions and contentions would soon
cease to exist; for they have almost uniformly
taken place in cons?quence of attaciiing too great
a degree of importance to matters of inferior
moment.

Were the miuds of the members of the Chris-

tian church, therefore, thoroughly enlighfeiied,
and imbued with the nioral j)rin(;ii)les of the reli-
gion of Jesus, we should soon beliold, among all
denominations, a tendency to union, on the broad
basis of recognizing the grand essential (ruths of
Christianity, which formed the principal subjects
of discussion in the sermons of our Saviour and
his apostles — and a Sjiirit of forbearance manifes.
ted in regard to all opinions on matters of infeiior
importance. Were this period arrived — and, from
the signs of our times, its ap])roach cannot be
very distant — it would be attended with a train
of the most glorious and auspicious effects. A
merging of party differences, and a cons-iquent
union of enlightened Christians, would dissipate
that spirit of trifling in religion by which so much
time lias been absorbed in discussing sectarian
opinions, to the neglect of the groat objects of th«
Christian faith ; for v>'hen trivial controversies are
quashed, the time and attention they absorbed
would be devoted to more sublime and important
investigations. It would have a pov/erful inllu-
eiice on the propagation of Christianity tlirough-
o>it the heathen world; for the whole Chr=«tian
world would then become one grand Missionary
Society, whose operations would be conducted
with more efficiency and skill, whose funds would
be much more ample, and whose Missionaries
would be better educated than they now are — and
those sectarian differences of ojjinion, which now
produce so many unhappy dissensions, forever
prevented from disturbing the harmony of con-
verts in distant lauds. It would cherish the prin-
ciple of Christian love, detach it from every
unholy jealousy, and render it more ardent and
expansive iu its philanthropic operations. It
would produce a powerful and beneficial influence
upon the men of the world, and even upon inti
dels themselves; it would snatch from t!::;m on©
oftlicir most powerful arguments against the
religion of the Bible, and would allure them to
the investigation of its evidences, by the exhibi-
tion it gave of its harmonious and happy effect*
It would have an influence on the minds of the
Roman Catholics, in leading them to an unbiased
inquiry into the grounds on which the Protestant
church is established. At present, when called
upon to examine the doctrines of Protestantism,
they retort upon us — " You are divided into a
hundred different sectaries, and are at variance
among yourselves; show us which of these sects
is in possession of the truth, and we will then
examine your pretensions, and perhaps come over
to your standard." It would liave an influence
on the Jeviisli people, in removing the ir"preju dices
against the religion of Jesus of Nazareth, espe-
cially, were it followed, as it likely would be,
with a repeal of all those statutes wliich have
imposed upon them disabilities, deprived them of
tiie rights of cilizenship, and subjected them to
unchristian severities. In short — in connection
with the general manifestation of Chri.stiaa prin-
ciple— it would produce a benign influence on
surrounding nations, and on the world at large.
For a body of Clirislians, iu .such a country as
ours, formed into one grand association, and act-
ing iu harmony, must exert a powerful influenco
on the councils of the nation; and our political
intercour-ses with other states, being conducted
on the basis of Christian principles and laws,
would invite their attention to a religion produc-
tive of so much harmony and so many beneficial
effects. Peace and unity in the church would
have a tendency to promule peace and friendship
■rtraong nations ; the cause of universal education
would be promoted without those obstructions

CONNECTION OF SCIENCE AND RELIGION.

119

which now arise from sectarian prejudices; and a
general diiTubion of usuful knowledge would soon
be effected tliroughout every quarter of the civi-
lized world, until tlic knowledge of Jehovah should
cover the earth as the waters cover the chauuels
of the r<'as. , 1

The disunion of {lie Christian church is not to
be ])erpetual. We are certain, that a period is
hastoiiiig on, when its divisions shall be healed,
when its boundaries shall be enlargrd, and when
"the vame of Jehovah shall be one throughout all
the earth.'''' At some period or other, tJiereforc,
in the lapse of time, a movement toward such a
union must commence. It cannot take ])lace be-
fore the attenlioa of the religious world i.s direct-
ed to this object. And why should not such a
movement commence at the present moment?
Why should we lose another year, or even ano-
ther month, before we attempt to concert mea-
sures, in order to bring about a consummation so
devoutly to be wished? The present eventful
period is peculiarly auspicious for this purpose;
when the foundations of tyranny, injustice, and
error are beginning to be shaken; when know-
ledge is making progress among every order of
society; when reforms in the state, and in every
suborainate department of the community, are
loudly demanded by persons of every ciiaracter
and of every rank; when the evils attached to our
ecclesiastical institutions are publicly denounced;
when the scriptures are translating into tiio lan-
gfuages of every tribe; and when missionary en-
terprises are carrying forward in every quarter of
the habitable globe. To attempt a union of all
true Christians, at the present crisis, would, there-
fore, lie nothing more than falling in with the
spirit of the age, and acting in harmony with
those multifarious moverhents, which are destined
to he the means of enlightening and renovating
the human race; and at no period since the Re-
formation could such an attempt have been made
with more sanguine expectations, and greater
prospects of success. All eyes are now turned
toward some eventful and auspicious era, when
tlie light of science shall shine refulgent, when
abuses shall be corrected, evils remedied, society
meliorated, and its various ranks brought into
more harmonious association. And .shall Chris-
tians alone remain shut up in their little home-
steads, apart from each other, stickling about
phrases, and contending about forms, without ever
coming forth to salute each other in the spirit of
union, and to give an impulse to the moral ma-
chinery that is hastening forward the world's im-
provement and regeneration? Such a surmise
ccwinot be indulged: it would be a libel on the
Christian world, and a reproach on the religion of
which they profess themselves the votaries. I
trust there are thousands in every department of
the church, who are ardently longing to break
down the walls of partition, which separate them
from their brethren, and anxiously wailing for
an opportunity of expressing tluir sentiments,
and of giving the right hand of fellowship "to all
who love our Lord Jesus in sincerity."

In any attempts that may be made to promote
this great object, mutual concessions beliaoved to
be made by all parties. One general principle,
that requires to be recognized, is this: — that er.ery
opinion and practice be set aside, vhich is acknov-
Udged on all hands to have no direct fiundalion in
scripture, but is a mere human fabrication, in-
troduced by accident or whim; such us, the ob-
Bervance of fast and preparation days previous to
the participation of the Lord's Supper, kneeling
in tlio act of partaking of that ordinance, repeat-

ing the Athanasiau Creed in the regular services
of the church, &.c. iScc. It is a striking and re-
markable fact, that the chief points about which
Christians are divided, arc points on which tha
volume of inspiration is silent, and which the
presumption and perversity of men have attach<;d
to the Christian system, and interwoven with the
truths i^d ordinances of religion ; and, there-
fore, were the line of distinction clearly drawn
between mere human opinions and ceremonials,
and the positive dictates of revelation, and the
one separated from the other, the way would bo
prepared for a more intimate and harmonious
union in the cliurch of Christ. As a preparative
measure to such a union, a friendly intercourse
between the difiercnt sectaries* should be solicit-
ed and cherished. Enlightened ministers of dif-
ferent denominations should occasionally exchange
pulpits, and officiate for each other in the public
exercises of divine worship. This would tend to
show to the v/orld, and to each other, that there is
no unholy jealousy or hostile animosity subsisting
between them, which their present conduct and
attitude too frequently indicate. It would also be
productive of many conveniences, in the case of
a minister being inuisposed, or absent from home,
as liis place could frequently be supplied, without
the least expense or inconvenience, by his breth-
ren of other denominations. It would likewise
show to the mass of professing Christians, that
the doctrines promulgated, and the duties en-
forced, by ministers of different denominations,
are substantially the same. .What a disgrace to
the Christian name, that such a friendly inter-
course has never yet been established; or, when
it occasionally happens, that it sliould bo consi-
dered as an extraordinary and unlooked-for pheno-
menon! What a strange and unexpected report
must be received by Christian converts in hea-
then lands, when they are told, that Christian
ministers in this country, who were instrumental
in sending missionaries to communicate to them
the knowledge of salvation, are actuated by so
much jealousy, and stand so much aloof from
each other, that even at the very time they are
planning missionary enterprises, they will refuse
their pulpits to each other, for the purpose of ad-
dressing their fcllovv-men on subjects connected
with their everlasting interests, and refrain from
joining in unison in the ordinances of religion,
although many of them expect, ere long, to join
in harmony ''n the services of the sanctuary
above! It is to be hoped, that such a disgrace to
the Christian cause will soon be wiped away, and
its inconsistency clearly perceived by all who are
intelligent and "right-hearted men."

Such a friendly intercourse and correspon-
dence as now suggested, would be far more effi-
cient in preparing the way for a cordial union of
Christians, than the deliberations and discussions
of a thousand doctors of divinity, delegated to
meet in councils to settle the points in dispute be-
tween the different sectaries. This objecl, I pre-
sume, will never be accomplished by theological
controversy, or by any attempt to eonvince the
respective parties of the futility or erroneousness
of their peculiar opinions; but, on the ground of
their being brought nearer to each other, and
more firmly united in the mutual exerci.se of the
Ciiristian virtues, and in the bonds of Christian
affection. And, when such a harmonious inter-

* l!y srctariex, in this place, anil elsewhere, I understand,
not only the riiflerent denoniinationi of Dix.-cntcrs, hut tha
Clmrcli of England, the Church of Scotlanil, and all oflier
national churches, which are all so many sectaries, or di&
feieat cunipartments ol ihe universal Christian church.

120

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

course shall be fully effectoJ, it will form a more
glorious anil •auspicious cni in the hislory of the
Chrisliuu clmrcli, tliun has ever occurred wiuca
the "good tidings of gr.^at joy" were proclaimed
in the plaius oi' Bethlehem, or since the day of
Pentecost, whtni " the whole multitude of them
that helieved were of one heart, and of one soul,
and hud all things common."* •

SECTION XI.

On the importance of connecting science with
religion.

In several of the preceding sections, I have ex-
hibited sketches of the outlines of some of the
branches of science, and of the objects toward
which its investigations are directed. I have all
along taken it for granted, that such knowledge
and investigations ought to be combined witli
just views of religion, and an attention to its
practical acquirements, and have occasionally in-
terspersed some remarks on this topic. But as
the subject is of peculiar importance, it may not
be inexpedient to devote a section to its more par-
ticular c-lucidation.

Of late years, knowledge has increased, among
the middle and lower ranks of society, with
greater rapidity than in any preceding age, and
Mechanics' Institutions, and other associations
have been formed, to give an impulse to the re-
newed vigor of the human mind, and to gratify
the desires which are now e.xcited for intellectual
pleasures and acquirements. Reason is arousing
frf m the slumber of ages, and appears determined
to make aggressions on the world of science, and
to employ its faculties on every object which
comes within the range of human investigation.
The laborer, the mechanic and artisan, — no
longer confined to trudge in the same beaten
track in their respective professions, and to the
limited range of thought which distinguished
their predecessors in former generations — aspire
after a knowledge of the principles on which their
respective arts are founded, and an acquaintance
with those scientific subjects, which were formerly
confined to tiie cloisters of colleges and the higher
orders of society. Lectures have been delivered
in most of our towns and even villages, on the
practice of the arts and the principles of the phy-
sical sciences, which have extended their intellec-
tual vi 'ws, and given them a higher idea of the
nobleness and sublimity of the mental faculties
with which they are endowed. This excitement
to rational inquiry has partly arisen from the
spirit of the age, and the political movements
which have distinguished our times; but it has
also been produced by the exertions of men of
erudition, in concerting plans for the diffusion of
knowledge, in giving a popular form to works of
science, and divesting it cf that air of mystery
v/hich it formerly assumed. And, should such
excitement be properly directed, it cannot fail to
raise th • lower ranks of the community from in-
tellectual degradation, and to prevent them from
indulging in intemperance, and other sensual
vices, wiiich have so long debased our rational
nature. At no former period has tlie spirit of
science been so fully awakened, and so generally
disseminated. On every side the boundaries of
knowledge have been extended, the system of
nature explored, the labors of philosophy with-

• See Appendix, Note XI.

drawn from hypothetical speculations to the In-
vestigation of facts, and the liberal and mechani-
cal arts carried to a pitch of perfection, hitherto
unattainetl.

But, amidst all the intellectual moveinenta
around us, it is matter of deep regret, that the
knowledge of true religion, and the practice of
its moral precepts, have not kept pace with the
improvements and the diffusion of science. Not
a few of those who have lately entered on the
prosecution of scientific pursuits, — because their
ideas have not been expanded a little beyond the
limited range of thought to which they were
formerly confined — seem now to regard revealed
religion as little else than a vulgar superstition,
or, at most, as a matter of inferior moment. Be-
cause their forefathers thought that the earth was
the largest body in nature, and placed in a quies-
cent state in the center of the universe, and that
the stars were merely brilliant spangles fixed in
the concave of the sky, to diversify the firmament
— which notions are now proved to be erroneous
— therefore they are apt to surmise, that the reli-
gion they professed rested on no better a founda-
tion. Because their notions of that religion were
blended with erroneous opinions and foolish su-
perstitions, they would be disposed to throw aside
the whole, as unworthy of the attention of men of
enlightened understandings, whose minds have
been emancipated from the shackles of vulgar
prejudice ind priestly domination. Such irreli-
gious propensities have their origin, for the most
part, in a principle of vanity and self-conceit, in
that spirit of pride congenial to human nature,
jvhich leads the person in whom it predominatea
to vaunt himself on his superiority to vulgar
opinions and fears — and, in the want of discrimi-
nating between what is of essential importance in
religion, and the false and distorted notions which
have been incorporated with it by the ignorance
and perversity of men.

This tendency to irreligion has likewise been
promoted by the modes in which scientific know-
ledge has been generally communicated. In the
greater part of the best elementary treatises on
science, there seldom occurs any distinct refer-
ence to the perfections and the agency of that
Omnipotent Being, under whose superintendence
all the processes of nature are conducted In-
stead of directing the young and untutored mind
to rise "from nature up to nature's God" — it is
considered by many, as unphilosophical, when ex-
plaining natural phenomena, to advert to any but
proximate causes, which reason or the senses
can ascertain, and thus a vail is attempted to be
drawn between the Deity and his visible opera-
tions, so as to conceal the agency of Ilim whose
laws heaven and earth obey. In the academical
prelections on physical science, in most of our
colleges and universities, there appears a studied
anxiety to avoid every i-eflection that wears the
SDublance of religion. From the first announce-
ment of the properties of matter and the laws of mo-
tion, through all their combinations in the system
of nature, and their applications to dynamics*
hydrostatics, pneumatics, optics, electricity, and
magnetism, the attention of the student is kept
constantly fixed on secondary causes and physical
laws, as if the universe were a self-existent and
independent piece of mechanism; and it is sel»
dom that the least reference is made to that Al-
mighty Being who brought it into existence, and
whose laws and operations are the subject of in-
vestigation. It is almost needless to add, that th»
harmony which subsists between the works \
God, and the revelations of his word — the mut> ',

FOLLY OF OVERLOOKING RELIGION.

121

light which they renect upon each other — the
views which they open of the plan of tlie Divine
governinont, — and the moral effects wiiich the
contemplation of nature ought to produce upon
tae heart — are never, so far as wo have learned,
iatroduced in such senunarics, as subjects which
demand particular attention. Thus the Deity is
carefully kept out of view, and banished, as it
were, from iiis own creation; and tlie susceptible
mind of the youthful student prevented from
feeling tliose iiripressions of awe and reverence,
of love and gratitude, which the study of the
miiteriai world, when properly conducted, is cal-.
cuJated to produce.

The same principles and defects are perceptible
In the instructions communicated in most of the
Mechanics' Institutions, which have been lately
formed for the improvement of the middle and
lower classes of society. It. has been publicly
announced, in the speeches of gentlemen of sci-
ence and erudition, who, with a laudable zeal,
took a part in the organization of these institu-
tions,— and the announcement has been re-echo-
ed in every similar association, and transcribed
into every literary journal, — that, " Hencefur-
ward the discussions of science are to be com-
pletely separated from religion." I do not mean to
accuse the highly respectable characters alluded
to, as being hostile either to natural or revealed
religion, from the circumstance of their having
made this announcement; as I presume they only
intended by it to get rid of those sectarian dis-
putes about unimportant points in theology,
which have so long disturbed the peace of the
church and of the world. But, when I consider
the use that will be made of it by certain charac-
ters and societies, and the bearing it may have on
the mode of communicating scientific knowledge,
i am constrained to pronounce the declaration as
no less unphilosophical, than it is impious and im-
moral in its general tendency. It is unphilosophi-
cal; for science, when properly considered in re-
lation to its higher and ultimate objects, is nothing
else than iin investigation of the power, wisdom,
benevolence, and superintending providence of
the Almighty, as displayed in the structure and
movements of the universe, — of the relation in
which we stand to this Great Being, — and of the
duties which we owe him. To overlook such
objects, is evidently contrary to the plainest dic-
tates of reason and philosophy. Is it possible
that an intelligent mind can contemplate the ad-
mirable and astonishing displays of divine perfec-
tion and munificence, throughout every part of
creation, and not be excited to the exercise of love,
and gratitude, and reverential adoration? Such
feelings and emotions lie at the foundation of all
true religion, — and the man wlio can walk through
the magnificent scene of the universe, without
feeling the least emotion of reverence and adora-
tion, or of gratitude for the wise and benevolent
arrangements of nature, may be pronounced un-
worthy of enjoying the beneficence of his Creator.
It was doubtless for this end, among others, that
the Almighty opened to our view such a magnifi-
cent spectacle as the universe displays, and be-
Blowed upon us faculties capable of investigating
its structure, — that we might acquire, from the
contemplation of it, enlarged conceptions of the
uttributes of his nature, and the arrangements of
his providence, and be excited to "give unto him
the glory due to his name." And, if we derive
such impressions from our investigtitions of tlie
material system, shall it be considered as incon-
■isteutMilh the spirit of true philo.^ophy, to en-
deavor ti communfcate the same impressions to

the minds of those whom we are appo nted to In-
struct? There can be little doubt, tiiat the prac-
tice of setting asiA^ all references to the character
and perfections of the Deity, in physical discus-
sions, has tended to foster a spirit of irreiigion in
youthful minds, and to accelerate their progress
toward the gulf of infidelity and skepticism.

Again, philosophy, as well as religion, requires
that the phenomena of nature be traced up to
their first cause. There are no causes cogniz-
able by the senses, which will account for the ori-
gin of the universe, and the multifarious pheno-
mena it exhibits; and therefore we .must asceiid
in our investigations to the existence of an invi-
sible and eternal Cause, altogether impalpable to
the organs of sense, in order to account for
the existence and movements of the material
world. To attempt to account for the harmony
and order, and the nice adaptations which appear
throughout creation, merely from the pSiysical
properties of matter, and the laws of motioii, is to
act on the principles of atheism; and is clearly
repugnant to every dictate of reason, v.'hich de-
clares, that to every effect we must assign an ade-
quate cause. And, if in our physical investiga-
tions, we are necessarily led to the admission of a
self-existent and eternal Being, the original source
of life and motion, it must be deeply interesting
to every one of us to acquire as much informa-
tion as possible respecting his perfections, and the
character of his moral government. From Him
we derived our existence, — on Him we depend
every moment "for life, and breath, and all
things." Our happiness or misery is in his hands,
and our eternal destiny, whether connected with
annihilation or with a state of conscious existence,
must be the result of his sovereign and eternal
arrangements. Our comfort in the present life,
and our hopes and prospects in relation to futu-
rity, are therefore essentially connected with tho
conceptions we form of the attributes of llim who
made and who governs the universe: and conse-
quently, that philosophy which either overlooks
or discards such views and considerations, is un-
worthy of the name, — is inconsistent with the
plainest deductions of reason, and, wherever it is
promulgated, must prove inimical to the best in-
terests of mankind. To regard science merely in
its applications to the arts of life, and to overlook
its deductions in reference to the Supremo Dispo-
ser of events, is preposterous and absurd, and un-
worthy of the character of the man who assumes
to himself the name of a philosopher; for, in do-
ing so, he violates the rules which guide him in
all his other researches, and acts inconsistently
with the maxim, that the most interesting and
important objects demand our first and chief at-
tention.

But the evil to which I have now adverted, is
not the only one of which we have reason to com-
plain. While the deductions of natural religion
are but slightly adverted to in physical discus-
sions, and in many instances altogether overlook-
ed,— the truthJi of Christianity are virtually sit asidt;
and it seems to be considered by soine as incon-
sistent with the dignity of science, to make the
slightest reference to the declaKitions of the sacred
oracles. In many of our grammar schools, aca-
demies, and colleges, where the fooiish and inimo-
j ral rites of pagan mythology are often detailed,
I no instructions are imparted, to counteract the
banoful influence which heathen maxims and
! idolatry may produce on the youtiiful mind. The
] superior excellence of the Christian leligion, and
i the tendency of its principles and precepts to pro-
i duce happiness, both here and hereafter, are sel-

IL'2

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

doiii exlii])itoi!; and in too many instances tlie
rccogiiilion ol' a Sui>rcnio Bciiijf, and of our con-
tinual uependoncc upon iiini, amitiio duty of im-
plorini; liis diiection and assistance, are sot aside,
as inconsisteu' vvitii tlie spirit of the ago, and vvitli
tiie mode of conducting a fashion iblo education.
1'h3 superiuiendenls of mechanic's institutions,
following the prevailing nioJe, have likewise
agreed to banish from tlieir institntions and dis-
cussions, all references to religion, and to the
peculiarities of Iho Christian system.

Now, we maintain, that Christianity in every
point of view in which its revelations may be
considered, is a subject of paramount bnporlance.
It is everything, or it is nothing. It must reign
Bupreme over every hu.man pursuit, over every
department of science, over every passion and
atlection, or be discarded altogether, as to its
authority over man. It will admit of no compro-
mises; i'or the authority with which it professes
to be invested, is nothing less than the will of the
Eternal, whose sovereign injunctions the inhabi-
tants of earth and the hosts of heaven are bound
to oboy. If its claims to a divine origin can be
disproved, then it may be set aside as unworthy
of our regar;!, and ranked along with tlie other
religions which have prevailovi in the world. But,
if it is admiitid to he a revelation from tlie Creator
of the universe to man on earth, its claims arc irre-
sistible, it cannot be rejected with impunity, and
its divine principles and maxims ought to be in-
terwoven with all our pursuits and associations.

The importance of Christianity may be evinced
by such considerations as the follow ing: — It com-
municates to us the only certain information we
possess of the character, attributes, and purposes
of the Creator, to whose laws and moral govern-
ment we are all amenable. It discloses to us our
state and condition, as depraved creatures and
violators of his righteous laws, and the doom
whicli aw"aits the finally impenitent in the world
to come. It informs us of the only method by
which we may obtain forgiveness of sin, and
complete deliverance from all the miseries and
moral evils to which we are exposed. It incul-
cates those divine principles and moral precepts
which are calculated to unite the whole human
race in one harmonious and afFectionate society,
and to promote the happiness of every individual,
both in " the life that now is, and in that which
is to come." It presents before us sources of
consolation, to cheer and support the mind,
amidst the calamities and afflictions to which
we are subjected in this mortal state. It unfolds
to us, in part, the plan of God's moral govern-
ment of the world, and the reasons of certain dis-
pensations and moral phenomena, which would
otherwise have remained inexplicable. In short,
it proclaims the doctrine of a resurrection from
the dead, and sets in the clearest light the cer-
tainty of a future state of punishments and re-
wards, subjects in which every individual of the
human race is deeply interested — giving full as-
surance to all who comply with its requisitions,
that when their corporeal frames are dissolved,
they "shall have a building of God, a house not
made with hands, eternal in the heavens," where
they shall inherit " fullness of joy and pleasures
for evermore."

These are only some of the important revela-
tions which Christianity unfolds. And, if it be a
truth which cannot be denied, that we are natur-
ally ignorant of God, can we be h ippy without
being acquainted with his moral attributes, pur-
poses, and laws? If we be guilty and depraved —
VFhich the whole history .of our race clearly de-

monstrates— can wo feel true enjoyment, if ou?
guilt is not canceled, and our depravity not coun
tcracted? Is it a matter of iudiilerence, U-hether
we acquire a knowledge of those moral principles,
which will guide us in the path to wisiom and
felicity, or be hurried along by heolless ])assiou3,
in tlic devious ways of vice and folly? Is it of nc
importance, whether we obtain information re-
specting our eternal destiny, or remain in uncer-
tainty whether death shall transport us to another
world, or finally terminate our existence? Can
any man, who calls himself a philosopher, main-
tain, wiih any show of reason, that it is unphiiosophi-
cal, or contrary to the dictates of an enlightened
understanding, that such subjects should form one
great object of our attention — that they should be
interwoven with all our studies and active em-
ployments— and tliat they should constitute the
basis of all those instructions, which are intended
for the melioration and improvement of mankind 7
To maintain such a position, would bo to degrade
philosophy in the eyes of every intelligent inquirer,
and to render it unworthy of the patronage of
every one who has a regard to the happiness of
his species. That philosophy which truly deserves
the name will at once admit, that concerns of the
highest moment ought not to be sat aside for mat-
ters of inferior consideration; but that everything
should be attended to in its proper order, and ac-
cording to its relative importance. , If such con-
siderations have any weight, they prove, beyond
dispute, that there is a glaring deiiciency in our
methods of education, where a foundation is not
laid in the truths of Christianity, and where its au-
thority is overlooked, and its claims disregarded.

Let us consider for a moment what would be
the natural effects of a complete se} aration be-
tween science and religion — between the general
diffusion of knowledge and the great objects of
the Christian faith. Science might still continue
to prosecute discoveries, to enlarge its bounda-
ries, and to apply its principles to the cultivation
of new arts, and to the improvement of those
which have hitherto been practiced. Its studies
might give a certain degree of polish to the mind,
might prevent certain characters from running
the rounds of fashionable dissipation, and, in every
gradation in society, might counteract, to a cer-
tain degree, the tendency to indulgence in those
mean and ignoble vices to which the lower ranks
in every age have been addicted. But, although
the standard of morals would be somewhat raised,
and the exterior of life polished and improved, the
latent principles of moral evil might still remain
rankling in the breast. Pride, ambition, avarice,
and revenge, receiving no counteraction from re-
ligious principle, might be secretly harbored and
nourished in the heart, and ready to burst forth,
on every excitement, in all the diabolical energies
in which they have so frequently appeared amidst
the contests of communities and nations. The
recognition of a Supreme intelligence, to whom
we are accountable, would soon be considered as
unnecessary in scientific investigations, and his
natural perfections overlooked; and, consequent-
ly, all the delightful affections of love, gratitude,
admiration, and reverence, which are inspired by
the view of his moral attributes, and the trans-
cendent excellence of his nature, would be un-
dermined and annihilated. There would be no
reliance on the superintending care of an uner-
ring Providence, ordaining and directing every
event to the most beneficial purposes, and no
consolation derived, amidst the ills of life, from a
view of the rectitude and benevolence of the
Divine government The present world wouW

EFFECTS OF DISCARDING CHRISTIANITY.

123

be consid(ired as tlie only scciio of action aiul eii-
joymyiit; llio liojie of iiniiiortali y, which Kup-
ports und gladdens the pious mind, would be e.\-
tenniiiated, and everything beyond the shadow of
death involved in ijloom and uncertainty. The
only true principles of moral action, which re-
vealed religion inculcates, being overlooked or
discarded, every one would consider himself as at
liberty lo act according as his humor and passions
might dictate; and, in such a case, a scene of self-
ishness, rapacity, and horror, would quickly ensue,
which would sap the foundation of social order,
and banish luijipiiiess from the abodes of men.

Sucii would be the necessary effects of a com-
plete renunciation of revealed religion, and such
a state of tilings our literary and scientific mode
of education has a natural tendency to produce,
vn so far as the truths oj Christianity art set aside,
or ODcrtooked, in our jjla-is of instruction. Where
should our youths receive impressions of the De-
ity, and of the truth of religion, unless in those
seminaiies where they are taught the elements of
general knowledge? Shall they be left to infer,
that religion is a matter of trivial importance,
from the circumstance, thai it is completely over-
looked throughout the whole range of their in-
structions? It may be said, that they have oppor-
tunities of receiving Christian instruction else-
where, particularly from the ministers of religion;
but will their minds be better prepared for relish-
ing such instructions, because the religion of the
Bible has been. carefully kept out of view in the
other departments of tuiiion ? Will they not
rather come to such instructions, with their
minds biased against the trutiis of revelation;
especially when we consider, that in almost every
instance, where religion is discarded in the pro-
cess of secular instruction. Pagan maxims are in-
troduced, and insinuations occasionally thrown
out hostile to the interests of gemiine Christiani-
ty? N'>twitlistanding all that I have stated in the
preceding pages, respecting the beneficial eiFects
of a universal diffusion of knowledge, I am fully
persuaded, that, unless it be accompanied with a
diffusion of the spirit of the Ciirislian religion,
and a corresponding practice, it will completely
fail in promoting tlie best interests of mankind.
If scriptural views of the character of the Deity —
if the promotion of love to God and to man — if
the cultivation of heavenly tempers and disposi-
tions, and the practice of Christian morality, be
entirely overlooked in seminaries devoted to the
instruction of the great body of the community —
such institutions, instead of being a blessing,
would ultimately become a curse to the human
species; and we should soon behold a vast assem-
blage of intelligent demons, furnished with powers
and instruments of mischief superior to any that
have hitheito been wielded, and which might, ere
long, produce anarchy, injustice, and horror
througliout every department in the moral world.

That these are not mere imaginary forebodings,
might bo illustrated from the scenes which were
lately exhibited in a neighboring nation. The
first revolution in France in 17&D, was a revolu-
tion not merely in politics and governnKmt, but
in religion, in manners, in moral principle, and in
the common feelings of human nature. The way
for such a revolution was prepared by the writ-
ings of ^'oltaire, Mirabeau, Diderot, Ilelvetius,
D'Alembert, Condorcet, Rousseau, and others of
the same slump — in which, along with some use-
ful discussions on the subject of civil and reli-
gious liberty, they endeavored to disseminate prin-
ciples subversive both of natural and revealed
liligion. Revelation was not only impugnc J, but

entirely set aside; the Deity was banished from
the universe, and an imaginary phantom, undee
the name of the Goddess of Ret-son, .substituted
ill his place. Everything was reduced to a sys-
tem of p.ure materialism; the celestial spark of
intelligence within us was assimilated to a piece
of ruue matter, and the fair prospects of immor-
tality, which Christianity presents, transformed
into the gloom of an eternal night. Every pre-
vious slanilard of morals was .discardt d; every
one was left to act as selfishness, avarice, and re-
venge might dictate; religion of every description
fled from the torch of the prevailing philosophy;
and, while " juslico and morality" were pro-
claimed as "the order of the day," every moral
principle, and every human feeling, were tram-
pled under foot. It is stated, on good authority,
that a little before the revolutioii, a numerous
assembly of French Literati, being asked, in turn,
at one of their meetings, by tluir pre.sidcnt,
"Whether there was any such tldng as moral
obligation," answered, in every instance, that
there was not. Soon after that revolution, the
great body of the French infidels, who tlien ruled
tiie nation, not only denied all the obligations
which bind us to truth, justice, and kindness, but
pitied and des[)ised, as a contemptible wretch, the
man who believed in their existence. Atheism
v^as publicly preached, and its monstrous doctrines
disseminated among the mass of the people, an oc-
currence altogetlier novel in the history of man.
A professor was even named by Chaumette. to in-
slruct the children of the state in the mysteries
of Atheism. De la Metherie, the author of a
Philosophical Journal, when discussing the doc-
trine of crystallization, made the wild and hide-
ous assertion, " that the highest and most perfect
form of crystallization is that vMch is vnlc/arly
called God." In the National Convention, Gobet,
archbishop of Paris, the rector Vangirard, and
several other priests, abjured the Chri.slian reli-
gion; and for this abjuration they received ap-
plauses and the fraternal kiss. A priest from Me-
lun stated, that there is no true religijii but that
of nature, and that all the mummery with which
they had hitiierto been amused, is only oM wives'
fabfes; and he was heard, with loud applause. The
Convention decreed, that " idl the churches and
temples of religious worship, known to be in
Paris, should be instantly shut up, and that every
person requiring the opening of a church or tem-
ple should be put under arrest, as a suspected
person, and an enemy to the state." The carved
work of all religious belief and moral practice
was bohdy cut down by Carnot, Robe-jierre, and
their atheistical associates, and the follov.'ing in-
scription was ordered to be displayed in all the
public burying-grounds — "Death is only an eter-
nal sleep ;" s,o that the dying need no longer be
afraid to step out of existence. Nature was in-
vestigated, by these pretended philosophers, only
with a view to darken the mind, to prevent man-
kind from considering anything as real but what
the hand could grasp or the corj.^oreal eye per-
ceive, and to subvert the established order of
society.

The consequences of the operation of such
principles were such as might have been expect-
ed. They are written in characters of bU od, and
in crimes almost unparalleled in the hi.-tory of
nations. A scene of inhumanity, cruelty, cold-
blooded malignity, daring impiety, and insatiable
rapacity, was presented to the world, wliich ex-
cited in the mind of every virtuous spectator
amazement and horror. Savage atrocities were
perpetrated which would have been shocking ia

124

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

the most fiarbarous and uiienlijihtened age; and,
perliaps, at no era has tliere been more wretched-
ness occasioned by licentious priucijdes and moral
degeneracy. "^I'ho ties of friendsiiip were cut
asunder, the claims of consanguinity disregarded,
and a cold-blooded selfishness pervaded the great
mass of society. " The kingdom a])poared to be
changed into one great prison; the inliabitants
converted into felons, and the common doom of
man com/mted for the violence of the sword,
and the bayonet, and the stroke of the guillotine."
Such was the rapidity with which the work of
destruction was carried on, that, within the short
Bpaco of ten years, not less than three millions of
human beings (one half more than the whole
population of Scotland) are supposed to have per-
ished in that country alone, chiedy through the
influence of immoral principles, and the seduc-
tions of a false philosophy. The following is a
brief sketch of some of tiie scenes to which we
allude, drawn by oiio who was an eye-witness of
the whole, and an actor in several parts of that
horrid drama. "There were," says this writer,
"multiplied cases of suicide; prisons crowded
with innocent persons; permanent guillotines;
perjuries of all classes; parental authority set at
naught; debauchery encouraged by an allowance
to those called unmarried mothers; nearly six
thousand divorces in the city of Paris within a
little more than two years; in a word, whatever
is most obscene in vice and most dreadful in
ferocity."*

Notwithstanding the incessant shouts of "Li-
berty and Equality," and the boasted illumina-
tions of philosophy, the most barbarous persecu-
tions were carried on against those who e reli-
gious opinions differed from the system adopted
by the state. While infidelity was enthroned in
power, it wielded tbe sword of vengeance with
infernal ferocity against the priests of the Romish
church, who ware butchered wlierever found —
hunted as wild beasts — frequently roasted alive,
or drowned in hundreds together, v/ithout either
accusation or trial. At Nantz, no less than .360
priests were shot, and 4G0 drowned. In one night,
58 were shut up in a barge, and drowned in the
Loire. Two hundred and ninety-two priests were
massacred during the bloody scenes of the 10th
August, and the 2d September, 1792; and 1K)5
were guillotined under the government of the Na-
tional Convention, from the month of September
1792, until the end of 1795, beside vast numbers,
hunted by the infidel republicans, like owls and
partridges, wlio perished in different ways, through-
out the provinces of France.

Such were some of the dismal effects which
flowed from the attempt to banish religion from
science, from government, and from the inter-
courses aiid employments of society. Were such
principles universally to prevail, the world would
soon become one vast theater of mischief and of
misery — an immense den of thieves and robbers
— a sink of moral pollution — a scene of impiety,
injustice, rapine, and devastation; a Golgotha,
Btrev/ed with carcasses and •' dead men's bones."
All confidence and friendship between intelligent
beings would be destroyed; the dearest and most
venerable relations would be violated by inces-
tuous pollutions; appetite would change every
man into a swine, and passion into a tiger; jeal-
ousy distrust, revenge, murder, war, and rapine
would overspread the earth, and a picture of hell
would be presented wherever the eye roamed over
the haunts of men.

'■ Gregoire.

During the period when the atrocities to whicli
we are adverting were perpetrating, the ruffians
w!io bor;^ ride in France were con: mually imput-
ing to the illuHiinatiou of philosophy, tlie ardor
wiiich animated them in the cause of liberty; and,
it is a truth, that science was enlarging its boun-
daries even amidst the horrors with which it was
surrounded. Chemistry was advancing in its rapid
career of discovery, and the celebrated Lavoisier,
one of its most successful cultivators, was inter-
rupted in the midst of soma interesting experi-
ments, and dragged to the guillotine, where he
sutlored in company with 28 farmers-general,
merely because he was rich. Physical astrono-
my, and the higher branches of the mathematics
were advancing under the investigations of La
Place; geodetical operations were carrying for-
ward, on an extensive scale; and the physical
sciences, in general, under the hands of nume-
rous cultivators, were going on toward perfec-
tion. But, while this circumstance shows, that
science may advance in the midst of irreligion — it
proves, at the same time, that, vithout being com-
bined with religion, it cannot, of itself, meliorate
the morals of mankind, or counteract the licen-
tiousness of society. Though it may be consi-
dered as a ray of celestial light proceeding from
the original Source of intelligence, yet it will fail
in producing its most beneficial effects, unless it
bj combined with "the light of the knowledge of
the glory of God," as it shines in the word of
Divine Revelation. Had such a connection been
formed between science and religion, certair it
is, that the bonds which unite the social system
would never have been burst asunder, nor the
foundations of morality overturned by such a
violent explosion as happened at the French re-
volution. And, although I am aware, that a
variety of political causes combined to produce
that great convulsion, and the eflects which flow-
ed from it, yet it cannot be denied, that the prin-
ciples of atheism, and a false philosophy which
had thrown off its allegiance to Christianity, were
the chief causes which produced the licentiousness
and impiety which characterized the rulers and
citizens of France, under " the reign of terror."

It is therefore to be hoped, that those who now
patronize the intellectual improvement of man-
kind, and who wish to promote the best interests
of society, will take warning from the occurren-
ces which so lately happened in the French na-
tion, during the reign of infidel philosophy and
impiety, and not suffer religion to be dissevered
from those pursuits which should lead the mind
to the contemplation of a Supreme Intelligence,
and of the glories of an immortal existence. The
moral Governor of the world has set before us
the horrid scenes to which we have alluded, as a
beacon to guard us from similar dangers, that so-
ciety might not again be exposed to a shij)wreck
so dreadful and appalling. We have, surely, no
reason to repeat the experiment, in order. to as-
certain the result. It is written in characters
conspicuous to every eye, and legible even to the
least attentive observer, and may serve as a v/arn-
ing both to the present age, and to every future
generation. Its effects are fit even at the present
moment, in the country where the exp'^riment
was tried, in the irreligion and profligacy which,
in its populous cities, still abound, especia.ly
among the middle and higher ranks of society.
Its effects are apparent even in our own country;
for. the skeptical principles and immoral maxims
of the continental philosophy were imported into
Britain, at an early period of the French Revolu-
tion, when the Bible was discarded by multitudes,

PHYSICO-THEOLOGICAL WRITINGS.

125

as an antiquated imposture, and committed to the
flames; and it is, doubtless, owiug in part, to the
influei.ce of these principles, that, in organizing
institutions for the diffusion of knowledge among
tlie lower rank*?, attempts have been made to
separate science from its references to the Creator,
and from all its connections with revealed religion.
It is, tinerefore, the duty of every man who loves
his speci's, and who has a regard for the welfare
and prosp.'rity of his country, to use his influence
III endeavoring to establish the literary and scien-
Jific instruction of the community on the broad
basis of the doctrines of revelation, and of those
oioral laws which have been promulgated by the
authority of the Governor of the universe, which
are calculated to secure the moral order, and to
promote the happiness of intelligent agents,
throughout every province of the Divine empire.

"When we look at plans of education" (says
an intelligent writer), " matured, or in progress,
which are likely to concentrate the national intel-
lect, and form the national taste, and engross the
daily leisure of the peasant or artisan, on prin-
ciples of virtual exclusion to everything speci-
fically Christian, when we see this grievous and
deadly deficiency attaching to schemes of benevo-
lence, which are otherwise pure and splendid,
receiving the sanction of public recognition, coun-
tenanced or winked at by the mightiest of scho-
lars, and most illustrious of stategnien, and thus
put in condition for traversing the laud, from the
one end to the other, we do feel alarmed, in no
ordinary dcgi-ee, at the effects that are likely to
follow it; and could we influence the consulta-
tions in which the whole originates, would en-
treat its projectors to pause and deliberate, lest
they stir the elements of a latent impiety, instead
of dispensing a national blessing. We dread not
the light of science, nor any liglit of any kilul
which emanates from God to man. On the con-
trary, we hail it as a precious acquisition, pro-
vided it be mingled and seasoned with that which
is revealed, as "the true light wliich lighteth
every man that cometh into the world;" but, in
a state of separation from this better light, and
unattempered by its restoring influence, we are
constrained to dread it, by all the concern we
ever felt for the eternal well-being of our iiuman
kindred."*

To prevent anj' misconceptions that may arise
respecting our views of the connection of science
and religion, it may be proper to remark, in the
first place, — that wo would consider it prepos-
terous in the highest degree, to attempt the in-
troduction of sectarian opinions in religion into
the discussions connected with science and phi-
losophy. It would bo altogether irrelevant to
the objects of scientilic associations, to introduce
the subjects of dispute between Calvinists and
Arminians, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, and In-
dependents; and we ar? of opinion, that the sooner
such controversies are banished, even from tkcu-
logy, and from the Christian world at large, so
much the better; for they have witlidrawn the
minds of thousands from the essentials to the
mere circumstantials of religion; and, in too
many instances, hove exposed the Christian world
to the snoeis of infidels, and the scoffs of the pro-
fane.— Nor, in the next place, would we consider
it as eitlier judicious or expedient, to attempt to
foist in even the essential doctrines of Christian-
ity, on every occasion, when the subject of dis-
cussion did not naturally aaid directly lead to their

• Rev. D. Young — Introductory Essay to Sir M. Hales'
CoDtemjilations.

introduction, or to some allusions to them. Such
attempts generally frustrate the end intended,
and are equall}^ displeasing to the man of taste,
and to the enlightejied Christian. — What v/e un-
derstand by connecting science with religion,
will appear in the following observations: —

I. As science lias it for one of its highest ob-
jects to investigate the works of the Creator, — an
opportunity should be taken, when imparling scien-
tific instructions, of adverting to the attributes of
the Deity, as displayed in his operations. The char-
acter of the Divine Being, and the perfections ho
displays, are, in every point of view, the most in-
teresting of all human investigations. The sys-
tem of nature, in all its parts and processes, exhi-
bits them to our view, and forces tliem, as it were,
upon our attention, if we do not willfully shut
our eyes on the light which emanates from an
invisible Divinity through his visible operations.
The contemplation of this system, even in its
most prominent and obvious appearances, has a
natural tendency to insjjire the most profound
emotions of awe and reverence, of gratitude and
admiration, at the astonishing displays it exhibits
of Omnipotent energ}', unsearchable wisdom, and
boundless beneficence. Such studies, when pro-
perly directed, are calculated to make a powerful
and interesting impression on the minds of the
young: and it is doing them an incalculable in-
jury, when their views are never elevated above
proximate causes and physical l-aws, to the agency
of Him Vi'ho sits on the throne of the tiniverse —
" If one train of thinking," says Paicy, " be more
desirable than another, it is that which regards
the phenomena of nature, with a constant refer-
ence to a supreme intelligent Author. To have
made this the ruling, the habitual sentiment o
our minds, is to have laid the foundation of every-
thing which is religious. The world from hence-
forth becomes a temple, and life itself one con-
tinued act of adoration. Tlie change is no less
than this, that wiiereas formerly God was seldom
in our thoughts, we can scarcely look upon any-
thing without perceiving its relation to him."
And is such a train of thinking to be considered
as unphilosopliical? Is it not, on the contrary,
the perfection of philosophy to ascend to a cause
that will account for every phenomenon — to trace
its incessant agency, and to acknowledge the per-
fections it displays? Bishop Watson has well
observed, " We feel the interference of the Deity
everyv/hcre, but we cannot apprehend the nature
of hid agency anywhere. A blade of grass can-
not spring up, a drop of rain cannot fall, a ray of
light cannot be emitted from the sun, nor a par-
ticle of salt be united, with a never-failing sympa-
thy to its fellow, without him; every secondary
cause we discover, is but a new proof of the ne-
cessity we are under of ultimately recurring to
him, as the one primary cause of everything."

Illustrations of the position for which we are
now contending will bo found in such works as
the following: — Ray's "Wisdom of God in the
Creation," — Boyle's "Philosophical and The.ilo-
gical works," — Derham's "Astro and Physico-
Theology,"* — Nieuwentyt's "Religious Philoso-
pher,"— Le Pluche's "Nature Displayed," —
Baxter's "Matho," or the principles of natural

* All edition of Derham's Physico-Thcology, in two vols.
Svo. . ^•^lil;h is not very generally Itnown; was published in
London in 1798, which contains additional noted illustrative
of modern discoveries, a translation of the Greek and Lntia
quotations of the original work, a life of the author, and
sixteen copperplate enijravings, illustrative of mauj cnrioot
subjects in the animal and vegetable kingdouis.

126

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

relijriiin deduced from tlie ])henomona of the ma-
terial worl.l, — Losser's Insecto-Thenioipj, or a de-
moMsl ration of tiu'. Being and Attril)iit.'s of God,
from the structure and economy of in.'^ects, wilh
notes by Lyouet, — Bonnet's "Conteiiii)lation of
Nature," — Euh>r's "Letters to a German Prin-
cess," translated by Hunter, — Pierre's "Studies
of N:iturp," — Paicy's "Natural Theology," — Ad-
am's "Lectures on Natural Philosojdiy," — Parkes'
"Chemical Catechism," and several others. The
chief object of Ray is to illustrate the wisdom of
the Deity in the figure and construction of the
earth, in the structure and symmetry of the hu-
man frame, and in the economy of tlie animal
and venfetahle tribes. The object of Derham, in
liis Astro-Theology, is to display the wisdom and
omnipotence of Deity, as they appear in the struc-
ture, arrangement, and motions of the heaveidy
bodies; and his P/iysico-Theoloqy, a work of much
greater extent, demonstrates the being and attri-
butes of God from the constitution of the earth
and atmosphere, — the senses — the structure, mo-
tions, respiration, food, and habitations of animals
— the body of man — the economy of insects, rep-
tiles, and fishes, and the structure of vegetables.
Though this excellent work is now considered as
somewhat antiquated, yet we have no modern
work that can fully supply its place. Paley's
Natural Theology, however excellent in its kind,
does not embrace the same extensive range of ob-
jects. Nicuicentyt enters into a minute anatomi-
cal investigation of the structure of the human
body, wliich occupies the greater part of his first
volume; and in the two remaining volumes, illus-
trates the divine perfections from a survey of the
atmosphere, meteors, water, earth, fire, birds,
beasts, fishes, plants, the physical and chemical
laws of nature, the inconceivable smallness of the
particles of matter, and the structure of the star-
ry heavens. The voluminous work of Le Pluche
comprehends interesting descriptions of quadru-
peds, birds, fishes, insects, plants, flowers, gardens,
olive-yards, cornfields, woods, pasture-grounds,
rivers, mountains, seas, fossils, minerals, the at-
mosphere, light, colors, vision, the heavenly
bodies, globes, telescopes, microscopes, the history
of navigation, systematic physics, . (fee. — inter-
spersed with a variety of beautiful reflections on
the Wisdom and Beneficence of the Deity in the
arrangements of nature. Euler^s Letters com-
prehend popular descriptions of the most inter-
esting subjects connected with natural philosophy
and ethics, interspersed with moral reflectiosis,
and frcqu<:>nt references to the truths of revela-
tion. Condnrcet, in his French translation of this
work, carefully omitted almost all the pious and
moral reflections of this profound and amiable
Philosopher, as inconsistent with the infidel and
atheistical philosophy which then prevailed. "The
retrenchments," says he, "afl^ect reflections which
relate less to the sciences and pliilosophy, than to
theology, and frequently even to the peculiar doc-
trines of that ecclesiastical communton in which
Eul°r lived. It is imnecessary to assign a. reason
for omissions of this description.'''' These omis-
sions were supplied, and the passages alluded to
restor ■.!, by Dr. Hunter, in Ins English transla-
tion, hut they have been asrain suppressed in the
late edition, published in Edinburgli, in two vol-
umes, 12mo.*

• As a specimen of the omissions to which we allude, the
fo.Iowins passage may suffice: — "But tlie eye which the
Creator htis formed, is siiliject to no one of all the imperfec-
tions nn!f"r which the imaginary construction of the free-
thinker lahors. In this we discover the true repson why
iBfinite wisdom has employed several transparen* substances

It is much to be regretted, that wo have n»
modern Rays, Dcrhams, Boyles, or Nieuwentyts,
to make the light of our recent discoveries in sci-
ence bear upon the illustration of the perfoctiona
of tiie Deity, and the arrangements of his pTovi-
dence. Pince the period wlien those Cliristian
philosophers left our world, many of the sciencei
which they were instrumental in promoting, have
advanced to a high degree of perfection, and have
thrown additional light on the wisdom and intel-
ligence of the Divine mind, and the economy of
theuniver.se. Natural history has widely enlarg-
ed its boujidaries; our views of the ra'vge of the
planetary system have been extended, the di-stant
regions of the starry firmament }\uve been more
minutely exi)lored, and new objocls of magnifi-
cence brought within the reach o( our observatioik
The nature of liglit has been mure accurately in-
vestigated, the composition of the atmosphere
discovered, the properties of the different gases
ascertained, the powers of electricity and galvan-
ism detected, and chemistry — a science complcte-
Ij' new-modeled — has opened up the secret springs
of nature's operations, and thrown a new lighten
the economy of divine wisdom in the various pro-
cesses which are going on in the material system.
Is it not unaccountable, then, that no modern sys-
tem of Physico-Theohgy , embracing the whole
range of modern discoveries, should have pro-
ceeded from the pens of some one or other of our
most distinguished philosophers? Docs this cir-
cumstance seem to indicate, that, since the early
part of the last century, the piety of philosophers
has been declining, and the infidel principles of
the continental school gaining the ascendency?
Infidelity and fatalism very generally go hand in
hand. When the truths of revelation are oncj
discarded, a species of universal skepticism, differ-
ing little or nothing "from at^ieism, takes posses-
sion o.f the mind; and hence we fijid, that in the
writings of such men as Bnfli"on, Diderot, and La
Place, there is not the slightest reference to Final
Causes, or to the agency of an All-pervading
Mind that governs the universe.

That the connection between science and theolo-
gy, we have been recommending, is not a vogue
or enthusiastic idea, appears from the sentiments
which have been expressed on this subject by the
most eminent philosophers. Throughout the
whole of the works of the immortal Newton, we
perceive a constant attention to Final causes, or to
the great purposes of the Deity. It was the firm
opinion of this philosopher, "that, as we are eve-
rywhere encountered in our researches by powers
and effects, wliich are unaccountable upon any
principles of mere mechanism, or the combina-
tions of matter and motion, we must forever re-
sort to a Supreme power, whose influence extends
over all Nature, and wlio accomplishes the wisest
and most benevolent ends by the best possible
means." Maclaurin, the friend of Newton, and
the commentator on his Principia, expresses the

in the Ibrmation of the eye. It is thereliy secured against
all the defects which characterize every work of man.
What a nohle suhject of conlcmplntion! IIovv pertinent
that question of the I'salmist ! Jlr jrho formed the eye, shall
he not see? and He icho planted the car, shall he not heat?
The eye alone being a master-piece that far transcends the
human nmlerstandinor, what an exalted idea mnst we form
of Him who has bestowed this wonderful "iff, and (hat in
the highest perfection, not on man only, hnt on ihe bmta
creation, nav, on Ihe vilest of in-octs'." The French phi
losopher and statesman seems to feel ashamed of the least
alliance between philosophy and religion, when he is indu-
ced to discard such reflections. He seems a|iprehensive, a)
Dr. Hnnter remarks, that a single drop of water from Scrip
tiire would cortnmiriate the whole mass of philosophy. W«
would hope our l!rili<h philosophers arc not yet so deepU
tinctured with the spirit of infidelity.

MORAL TENDENCY OF SCIENCE.

127

following sentiments on this subject, in his "Ac-
count of Sir I. Newton's Discoveries." "Tlicre
is nothing we meet with more fi-equenlly and
COiisluiUly in Nature, than the traces of an
all-governing Deity. And the ])hilosopher who
overlooks these, contenting liiniself with tiio ap-
pearances of the material universe only, and the
Diechanicul laws of motion, neglects what is most
exceheiit; ana prefers what is imperfect to what
is supremely perfect, iinitude to iiiHnity, what is
narrow anj weak to wliat is unlimited and almigh-
ty, and what is perishing to what endures forever.
Such as attend not to so manifest indications
of supreme wisdom and goodness, perpetually ap-
pearing b fore them wherever they turn their
views or inquiries, too much resemble those an-
cient philosophers who made Night, Matter, and
Chaos, the original of all things." Similar senti-
ments were expressed by the late Professor Robi-
son, one of the most profound mathematicians
and philosophers of his age. "So far from ban-
ishing the consideration of final causes from our
discussions, it would look more like philosophy,.
more like fiie love of true wisdom, and it would
taste less of an idle curiosity, were we to multi-
ply our researches in those departments of nature
where final causes are the chief objects of our
attention — the structure and economy of organ-
ized bodies in the animal and vegetable kingdoms."
— "It is not easy to account for it, and perhaps
the explanation would not be very agreeable, why
many naturalists so fastidiously avoid such views
of nature as tend to lead the mind to the thoughts
of its Author. We see them even anxious to
weaken every argument fcr the appearance of de-
sign in the construction and operations of nature.
One would think, that, on the contrary, such ap-
pearances would be most welcome, and that no-
thing would be more dreary and comfortless than
the belief that chance or fate rules all the events
of nature." — Elements of Mechanical Philosophy,
vol. i, ]>p. 6S1-2. We know not whether such
sentiments were inculcated from the chair of Nat-
ural Philosophy, which Dr. Robison so long occu-
pied, by the distinguished philosopher who has
lately deceased.

II. Beside the deductions of natural religion,
to which we have now adverted — in our scientific
instruciioiis there ouglit to be a reference, on
every proper occasion, to the leading truths of
revelation. There are many scientific inquirers
who would have no objections occasionally to ad-
vert to final causes, and the wisdom of the Deity,
who cousid.^r it altogether irrelevant, in the dis-
cussions of science, to make the slightest refer-
ence to tlic facts and doctrines detailed in the
Sacred Oracles. The expediency, or the impro-
priety of such a practice, must depend on the
views w? take of the nature of the communica-
tions which the Scriptures contain. If the Bible
is acknowledged as a revelation from God, its
truths must harmonize with the system of nature,
— they must throw a mutual light on each other, —
and the attributes of the Divinity they respective-
ly unfold must be in perfect accordance; and
therefore it can never be irrelevant, when eJigaged
in the study of the one, to refer for illustrations
to the ollser. On the contrary, to omit doing so,
from a fastidious compliance with what has too
long been the established practice, would be a

fiiece of glaring inconsistency, either in the theo-
ogian on the one hand, or the philosopher on the
other. We have too much reason to suspect, tliat
the squramishness of certain scientific characters,
in omitting all references to the Christian system,

arises cither from a secret disbelief of its authori-
ty, or from a disrelish of the truths and moral
princi[)les it inculcates.

Taking for granted, then, what has never yet
been disproved, that Christianity is a revelatioa
from heaven, and recollecting, that we live in a
country where this religion is professed, it follows,
as a matter of consistimcy, as well as of duty, that
all our systems of instruction, wliether literal y or
scientific, whether in colleges, academies, meclian-
ics' institutions, or initiatory schools, ought to be
founded on the basis of the Christian revelation —
that, in the instructions delivered in such semina-
ries, its leading doctrines should be recognized,
and that no <lispositions or conduct be encouraged
which are inconsistent with its moral princijdes.

More particularly, in describing the processes or
phenomena of nature, an opportunity siiould fre-
quently be taken of quoting the sublime and en-
ergetic sentiments of the inspired writers, and of
referring to the facts they record, when they are
appropriate, and illustrative of the subject in hand.
This would tend, to connect the operations of na-
ture with the agency of the God of nature; and
would show to the young, that their instructors
felt a veneration for that Book which has God for
its Author, and our present and future happiness
as the great object of its revelations. Why should
the Bible be almost the only book from which cer-
tain modern philosophers never condescend to
borrow a quotation? They feel no hesitation —
nay, they sometimes appear to pride themselves in
being able to quote from Plato, Aristotle, and
Zeno, or from Ovid, Virgil, and Lucretius. They
would feel ashamed to be considered as unac-
quainted with the works of Bacon. Galileo, New-
ton, Halley, Huygens, Boscovich, Black, Robison,
Buffbn, or La Place, and unable to quote an illus-
trative sentiment from their writings; but they
seem to feel, as if it would lessen the dignity of
science to borrow an illustration of a scientific po-
sition from Moses or Isaiah, and to consider it as in
nowise disrespectful to appear ignorant of the con-
tents of the Sacred Volume. S uch were not the sen-
timents and feelings of the philosophers to whose
works I lately referred, which abound with many
beautiful and appropriate sentiments from the in-
spired writings. Such were not the feelings of the
celebrated Eider, whose accomplishments in sci-
ence were admired by all the philosophers of Eu-
rope; nor were such the feelings of the late Dr.
Robison, who was scarcely his inferior. When de-
scribing the numerous nebula in the distant regions
of the heavens, he closes his remarks with the
following reflection: — " The human mind is almost
overpowered with sucli a thought. When the soul
is filled with sucli conceptions of the extent of cre-
ated nature, we can scarcely avoid exclaiming,
' Lord, what then is man, that thou art mindful of
him?' Under such impressions, Davia shrunk into
nothing, and feared that he should be forgotten
among so many great objects of the Divine atten-
tion. Ilis comfort and ground of reli.'f from this
dejecting thought are remarkable. 'But,' says he,
'thou hast made man but a little lower than the
angels,and hastcrowned him with glory and honor.'
DaviJ corrected himself, by calling to mind how
high he stood in the scale of God's works. Me
recognized his own divine original, and his alliance
to the Author of all. Now, cheered and delighted,
he cries out, ' Lord, how glorious is thy name!' " —
Elements of Mechanical Philosophy, vol. i, p. 565.

Again, every proper opportunity should be takea
of illustrating the harmony \\ hich subsists between
the system of revelation and the system of na-
ture— between the declarations of the insoired

128

ON THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

Wi-iters and tlie facts which are found to exist in
the material univcu-se. Tliis subject preheats iiu
exteusivo Held of iiivestitjation vvliicli has never
yet heen thoroughly explored, and whicli admits
of the most extensive and diversiiied illustrations.
The facts of geology — sonio of which wore for-
merly set in array against the records of revela-
tion— are now seen to be corroborative of the facts
stated in the Mosaic history;* and in proportion
as the system of nature is minutely explored,
and Uie physical sciences in general approximate
to perfection, the more striking appea.r.s the coin-
cidence between the revelations of the Bible and
the revelations of Nature. And one principal
reason why this coincidence at })reseiit docs not
appear com[)lete, is, that tlie Scriptures have never
yet been thoroughly studied in all their refer-
ences, nor the system of the material world thor-
oughly explored. The facts of modern science,
of which many of our commentator.-; were igno-
rant, have seldom been brought to bear upon the
elncidalioa of the inspired writings, and the sen-
timents of the sacred writers have seldom been
illustrated by an apjieai to the discoveries of sci-
ence.— The views wl+ich the system of nature ex-
hibits of the plan and principles of the divine
government, the reasons of the operation of those
destructive agents wliich frequently exert their
energy within the bounds of our sublunary system,
and the connection which subsists \i Aw ei^n physical
and moral evil, might also form occasional subjects
of investigation; as they are all deeply interesting
to man considered as a moral agent, and as the
subject of the moral administration of the Gover-
nor of the Universe.

In the next place, we hold it as a matter of par-
ticular importance, that the instructions of science
be conducted in such a manner as to make a moral
imprea.non uj^on tlie heart. An objection has fre-
quently been raised by religious people against the
study of science, from its tendency to produce a
spirit of intellectual pride; and it can scarcely be
denied that there is some ground for the objection,
when the pursuits of general knowledge are en-
tirely separated from religion. But the objects of
science, when properly exhibited, and accompanied
with appropriate rejlections, have a very different
tendency. When we consider the numberless
multitudes of beings which exist in the universe,
and the immense variety of processes incessantly
going forward in every department of nature;
when we consider the infinite wisdom and intel-
ligence, far surpassing human comprehension,
which they display; when we consider the im-
mense magnitude and extent of the universal sys-
tem of created beings, and the ;)robability that man
stands near the lower part of tlie scale of rational
existence, and is only like an atom in tlie immen-
sity of creation, — we perceive the most powerful
motives for humility and self-abasement. When
we consider the benevolent arrangements in the
elements around us, and in the structure and
functions of animated beings, and the provision
made for their subsistence, it has a natural tenden-
cy to inspire the heart with gratitude and affection
toward Him from whom ail our comforts flow.
And when we reflect on the grajideur of the Deity
as displayed in the magnificence of his empire,
and in his incessant agency throughout all its
provinces, slionld it not inspire us with reverence
and adoration, and with a lively hope, that a pe-
riod will arrive when we shall behold the wonders
and glories of his creation more clearly unfolded?

* Por illustrations of this position, see Dr. Ure's Qeology,
Farkinsoa's Organic Remains, &c.

Such sentiments and emotions, the works of God,
when rightly contemi)lated, are fitted to j)roduce;
and to overlook them in our instruction to the
young, is to deprive them of some of the ])urest
enjoyments, and some "of the greatest advantages
whichflow from scientific knowledge. When theii
minds are deeply impressed with such emotions,
they are in some measure prepared for listening
with reverence to the declarati'ons of the inspired
volume, and for perceiving the force and subli
raity of the description it gives of the charactei
of God.

It would perhaps excite a smile of contempt in
some, who would spurn at tlie idea of being ranked
in the class of infidels, were I to iu.-jiuuate, that
our scientific meetings and lectures should bo
opened with prayer, and adoration of the Divine
Being. It might indtied admit of a doubt, v/hethei
it would be expedient to attempt such a practice
in the present state of society. But I have no hesi-
tation in affirming, that, to acknowledge God in
all our pursuits, and to pay Him a tribute of ador-
ation, are dictates of natural as well as of revealed
religion, and that a deist, were he to act in con-
sistency with his avowed principles, would engage
in daily prayer to the Great Author of his exist-
ence. It is expressly enjoined in the Scriptures,
" In all thy ways acknowledge God, and he shall
direct thy steps;" and it is declared to be one of
the characteristics of the wicked man, " that God
is not in all his thoughts," and that, " through
the pride of his countenance he will not call upon
God." If we firmly believe there is a God, we
must also believe that he is present in all places,
and privy to all our thoughts, that all our circum-
stances and wants ?^ open to his Omniscient
eye, and that "he is able to do for us above all
that we can ask or think." Although we are ig-
norant of the precise physical connection between
prayer and the bestowment of a favor by God,
yet we ought to engage in this duty, because it is
accordant with the idea of a Supreme Being on
whom we are every moment dependent, and has
therefore been acknowledged by the untaught
barbarian, as well as bj' the enlightened Christian;
because it is positively enjoined; because there is
a connection established by the Creator betweeu
asking and receiving; because it tends to fix oui
thoughts on the Omnipresence of the Divine
Mind, to impress our hearts with a sense of the
blessings of which we stand in need, and to ex-
cite earnest desires after them; and, because it is
one way in which we may hold a direct inter-
course with our Creator. I would not envy the
Christian feelings of that man who can habitually
engage in literary compositions or scientific dis-
cussions, without acknowledging his Maker, and
imploring his direction and assistance. Religion
degenerates into something approaching to a mere
inanity, when its spirit and principles are not
carried into every department of human life and
society, nor its requisitions attended to in every
secular hnsiness in which we engage. Until the
principles of Christianity be made to bear in all
their force on every department of human actions,
and especially on the .business of education, we
can scarcely expect, that its benign tendency will
be generally appreciated, or that society will reap
all the benefits which it is calculated to impart

There are, however, certain descriptions of lite-
rary characters, who, although they consider it
expedient to pay an occasional compliment to
Christianity, would consider such remarks as bor-
dering on superstition or fanaticism.' When W9
talk to them about the Christian revelation, in
general terms, they do not choose to say anything

IMPORTANCE OF RELIGIOUS TRUTH.

12»

directly against its excellence or divine authority;
but if we descend into particulars, and expatiate
On any of its fundamental doctrines, or uttrnipt to
reduce to practice its holj' re(iuisitions, we are
frequently rrn^t with a'conteniptuous sneer, or a
cry of entiiusiasm, and sometimes with a luirangue
•gainst the follies of Methodism, or of Bible and
Missionary Societies. We are thus led to infer,
with some degree of reason, that sucli characters
have no impressive belief of the Divine orii^in of
the Christian system; and it would be much more
honorable and consistent, at once to avovv' their
infidelity, tlian to put on the mask of dissimula-
tion and hypocrisy. No individual ought to be
suljjccted to any civil penalties on account of the
opinions he holds, as for tiiese he is accountable
only to liis Maker; nor should any opinions be
attempted to be extirpated by any otjier weapons
than the strength of reason and the force of argu-
ments. But, at the same time, it is requisite, that
society should know the leading principles of any
one who proposes himself as a public instructor
of his fellow-men, in order that tliey may judge
wliether it would be proper to place their relativis
under the instructions of one, who might either
overlook Christianity altogether, or occasionally
throw out insinuations against it. To act the hy-
pocrite, to profess a decent respect for the Chris-
tian religion, while the principles of infidelity are
fixed in the mind, accompanied with a secret wish
to underuiine its foundations, is mean and coti-
temptible, unworthy of the man who wislies to be
designated by the title of philosopher. Yet such
hypocrisy is not at all uncommon; it was par-
ticularly displayed by the ske])tical philosophers
on the continent, prior to the French revolution,
and avowed to their most intimate associates.

Buffon, the natural historian, who appears to
l,dve been an atheist, was also, according to his
own confession, a consummate hypocrite. In a
conversation with M. Heraidt Sechelles, in 1785,
about four years before his death, and when he
was in the seventy-eighth year of his age, he de-
clared, " In my writings I have always spoken of
the creator; but it is easy to efface that word, and
substitute in its place, the powers of nature, which
consist in the two grand laws of attraction and
repulsion. When the Sorbonne* become trouble-
some to me, I never scruple to give them every
satisfaction they require. It is but a sound, and
men are foolish enough to be contented with it.
Upon this account, if I were ill, and found my
end approaching, I should not hetitate to receive
the sacrament. Helvetius was my intimate friend,
and has frequently visited me at Montbart. I
have repeatedly advised him to use similar discre-
tion; and, had he followed my advice, he would
have been much happier." "My first work (con-
tinued he) appeared at the same time with Zi'jEs-
prit des Lois, jlantesquieu an.i myself were tor-
mented bv the Sorbonne. The president was vio-
lent. ' What have you to answer for yourself 7^
says he to me, in an angry tone. 'Nothinc) at all,'
W5S my answer, and he was silenced and perfectly
thunderstruck at my indifference." In perfect
ace )rdance with such a system of hj'pocris}', Buf-
fon kept a father confessor almost constantly with
him, to whom he was in the habit of confessing,
in the same apartment where he had developed
the Principles of Materialism, which, .according to
his system, was an abnegation of immortality.
He also regularly attended mass on Sundays, un-
less prevented by indisposition, and communicated
in the Cfiapel of the Glory, every Whitsunti !e.

* The faciltv of TbeoloCT at Paris.

Vol. 1.^-9

Though he heartily despised his priestly confes-
sor, he fiattercd and cajoled him with poiapout
l)romises, and condescending attentions. '• 1 have
seen this jiriest (says Sechelles), in the at>senc»
of the doiriestics, hand over a towe! to the coun*
s"t the dining table before him, and perform such-
like menial services. Buffon rewards tiiese atten-
tions with, / thank you my dear child.'' Such was
the habitual hypocrisj^ of this philosopher; and,
said he, " it has been observed by me in all my
writings: I have publi--.hcd the one after the other
in sucii a manner, that men of vidgar capacities
should not be able to trace the chain of my
thoughts." His intolerable vanity and pomposity,
his breacli of promises, the grossness of his con-
versation, and his numerous amours and intrigues,
were in perfect correspondence with such prin-
ciples, and the natural result of them. " His plea-
santries (says Sechelles) were so void of delicacy,
that the females were obliged to quit the room."*
What a scene of moral anarchy would be intro-
duced, were such principles to be universally
inculcated and acted upon in society! All confi-
dence between man and man would be shaken,
and the foundations of the social system under-
mined and destroyed. Yet such was the morality
which almost universally prevailed among the
continental philosophers, in consequence of the
skeptical and atheistical principles they had im-
bibed. Truth, sincerity, modesty, humility, and
moral obligation, formed no part of the code of
their morality; and such, in all probability, would
soon be the result in our own country, were the
pursuits of science and philosophy to be com-
pletely dissevered from religion. '

In the last place, there are several topics cou-
nected with religion, which might occasionally Im
made the subjects of discussion in scientific assrw
ciations: such,, for example, are the evidences and
importance of the Christian Revelation — the phy-
sical and moral facts to which it occasionally ad-
verts— the attributes of the Divinity — the general
principles of moral action — the laws which the
Creator has promulgated for preserving the order
of the intelligent system, and the foundation oa
which they rest — the evidences for the immor-
tality of the soul, and the eternal destiny of man.
These, and similar topics might, on certain occa-
sions, become subjects of investigation, as they
can be illustrated without entering on the arena
of theological controversy, or descending within
the limits of sectarian opinions. I do not mean
to sa}'', that they should be discussed according to
the method of Forensic disputations, by opposite
parties taking different sides of a question — a
mode of communicating knowledge, the tendency
of which is^'very questionable — but that certain
positions in reference to them should be proved
and illustrated, in a direct manner, in the form of
essays, lectures, or oral instructions. The topics
now specified, and those which are intimately re-
lated to them, are subjects of the deepest interest
and importance to every individual of the human
race; and, therefore, no valid reason can be as-
signed why such subjects should not be occasion-
ally elucidated in literary and scientific semina-
ries, if it be one object of such institutions to
promote the happiness — and what is essentially
requisite to it — the moral improvement of mein-
kind.

For example, is it not in the highest degree im-
portant to every human being, that he should bo

* See an account of some particulars in the private life of
BnfTon, by AT. Sechelles, one of his admirers, in the Monthlf
MTjazine for July 1797, supplementary No., vol. 3, pp. 49>^
501.

13:

ON TllE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE.

convinced of his immortal destiny, and have his
mind impressed with tlie realities of a future
world — that lie should ascertain whether, at death,
he is to lio reduced forever ialo the same situation
as ths clo Is of the valley, or transported to a
more expansive sphere of existence? Take away
from man the prospect of immortality, and you
tiirow a vail of darkness and mystery over all the
scenes of creation; 5'ou reduce the moral world to
a scene of confusion, and involve the ways of Pro-
vidence in a dark inextricable ma/.e; you in wrap
the charav.'er of the Deity in awful obscurity, and
terminate every prospect of becoming more fully
acquainted with the magnificence of the universe;
you reduce man to an enitjma — to the most inex-
plicable phenomenon in creation, and annihilate
the strongest motives to the practice of virtue.
But this is not all, you remove the most powerful
motives to the pursuit of scientific knowledge;
for, in this case, you confine its beneficial results
merely to the promotion of the comforts and con-
Teniencies of the present transitory life; and the
discoveries of the order and extent of the universe
it unfolds, and the speculations to which they
lead, tend only to bewilder and perplex the mind,
when it is cut off from all hopes of prosecuting
its inquiries bej'ond the grave, and of beholding
the mysterious scenes of creation more fully dis-
played. On this ground, a man who is exhorted
to cultivate an acquaintance with science, might,
with some reason, exclaim, " Of what avail is it,
to spend anxious days and sleepless nights in ac-
quiring scientific knowledge, when it may be all
lost before to-morrow's dawn, or, at the farthest,
after the lapse of a few short years, when my in-
tellectual faculties sliall bo annihilated? I can ac-
quire but a few scattered fragments of it at most,
although I were to prosecute my researches as far
as the most distinguished geniuses have ever ad-
vanced; and I must quit the field of investigation
before the ten thousandth part of it is half ex-
plored. Had I a prospect of enlarging my facul-
ties and resuming my researches in a future state
of being, I might engage in them with some de-
gree of interest and vigor; but to one who is un-
certain whether his connection with the intelli-
gent universe shall be continued for another day,
it appears quite preposterous, and tends to deprive
rae of many sensitive gratifications which I find
essential to my present enjoyment." What is
afiirmed of happiness, in general, may be applied
to knowledge, one of its ingredients, that the ex-
pectation of its permanency is indispensably requi-
Bite to its perfection. It is the prospect of science
being prosecuted in a future world and carried to
perfection, that confers a dignity on its objects,
and forms the most powerful motive to engage in
its pursuits; and, in this point of view, it may be
considered as forming a part of that training
which is requisite to prepare us for the activities,
the contemplations, and enjoyments of that higher
sphere of existence. But where no such hopes
are indulged, intellectual pursuits are deprived of
their chief excellence and imjiortance, and the
best alFections of the heart of their sublimest
objects and most exalted pleasures; and the more
the powers of the mind have been exercised and
improved, and the more it feels itself prepared for
a series of rational enjoyments, the more cha-
grined and disappointed must it feel when j'ears
roll away and it approaches the point where it is
to sink into eternal oblivion. Without the hopes
of admission to future sources of enjoyment, at
the hour of dissolution, we may assume an air of
composure, because we are unable to resist, or an
air of fortitude from the last efforts of pride; but,

in point of fact, we can await the extinction of our
being only with a mournful and melancholy
gloom.

This representation has frequently been realized,
in the case of men of cultivated minds, who hod
thrown aside tho obligations of religion and the
idea of u future world, when they approached the
confines of the tomb,' — of which the following
instances may suffice: Voltaire, when approaching
his dissolution, looked back ui)on protracted years
with remorse-, and forward with dismay. He
wished for annihilation, through the dread of
something worse. He attempted to unburden hia
troubled mind by confessing to a priest; and he
placed his hopes of peace with heaven, in an eager
conformity to those rituals which he incessantly
treated with contempt. In a previous indisposi-
tion, he insisted upon sending for a priest, con-
trary to the warmest remonstrances of his friends
and attendants. On recovery, he was ashamed of
his conduct, and ridiculed his own pusillanimity.
This pusillanimity, however, returned upon a re-
lapse; and he had again recourse to the miserable
remedy. He acknowledged to Dr. Tronchin, hia
physician, the agonies of his mind, and earnestly
entreated him to procure for his perusal a treatise
written against the eternity of future piinixkment.
These facts were communicated to Dr. Cogan, by
a gentleman highly respected in the philosophical
world, who received them directly from Dr. IVon-
chin; and they concur with many others, in de-
monstrating the impossibility of enjoying perma-
nent felicity without the hopes and consolations
of religion. M. Sechelles, to whose narrative I
lately referred, relates, that, in one of his conver-
sations with Buffon, the Count declared, "I 1 opo
to live two or three years longer, to indulge my
habit of working in literary avocations. I am not
afraid of death, and am consoled by the thought,
that -my name will never die. I feel myself fully
recompensed for all my labors, by the respect
which Europe has paid to my talents, and by the
flattering letters I have received from the most
exalted personages." Such were the consolt.tiona
which tills philosopher enjoyed in the prospect of
the extinction of his being. His name would live
when he himself was forever blotted out from that
creation which it was the object of his writings to
describe! But, that his mind was not altogether
reconciled to the idea of sinking into eternal obli-
vion, may be inferred from another anecdote, re-
lated by the same gentleman. "One evening I
read to Buftbn the verses of Thomas on the im-
mortality of the soul. He smiled. ' Par Dieu,*
says he, ' religion would be a valuable gift if all this
were true.'' " This remark evidently implied, that
the system he had adopted was not calculated to
present so cheerful a prospect of futurity as the
system of Revelation.

Gibbon, the celebrated historian of the Risa
and Fall of the Roman Einpire, had his mind
early tinctured with the principles of infidelity;
and his historical writings are distinguished by
several i'lsidious attacks on Christianity, by un-
fair and unmanly sneers at the religion of his
country, and by the loose and disrespectful mait-
ner in which he mentions many points of morali-
ty regarded as important, even on the principles
of natural religion. Such appears to have been
his eagerness in this cause, that he stooped to the
most despicable pun, or to the most awkward per-
version of language, for the pleasure of turning
the Scri[)ture into ribaldry, or calling Jesus Ein
impostor. Yet he appears to have been actiiatod
by the same spirit of hypocrisy which distin-
guished BuiFon and bis philosophical associate*,

GLOOMY PROSPECTS OF INFIDELITY.

131

for. notwithstanding his aversion to Christianity,
he would have felt no scruple in accopling an of-
fice iu tiie church, provided it had contributed to
his j)e(uiniary interests. On the occasion of his
father having been obliged to mortgage part of
his estate, he thus exjjresses himself: "I regri-t
tliat I had not embraced the lucrative pursuits of
the law or of trade, the chances of civil office or
India adventure, or even the fat slumbers of the
church.'''' Such is too frequently the morality
displayed by infidels, and there is reason to sus-
pect that the church is not altogether purged of
them even in the jircsent day. That Gibbon's
principles were not sufficient to support his mind
in the prospect of dissolution, appears from many
expressions in the collection of his letters pub-
lished by Lord Sheffield, in which are to be traced
many instances of the high value which he
placed upon existence, and of the regret with
which he perceived his y-cars to be rapidlj' passing
away. His letter on the death of Mrs. Posen,
bears every mark of the despondent state of liis
mind at the idea, that, "«ZZ is now lost, finally, irre-
coverably lost!'^ lie adds, "I Vvill agree with
my lady, that the immortality of the soul is, at
gome times, a very comfortable doctrine.'" The an-
nouncement of his death, in tlie public prints, in
January 1794, was accompanied with this re-
mark, " He left this world in gloomy desponden-
cy, without those hopes and consolations which
cheer the Christian in the prospects of iinmortLii-
ity." — Dr. A. Smith, in the account he gives of
the last illness of Hume, the historian, seems to
triumph in the fortitude which he manifested in
the prospect of his dissolution, and he adduces a
playfulness of expression as an evidence of it, in
his jocular allusion to Charon and his boat. But,
as Dr. Cogan, in his treatise on the passions, very
properlj' remarks, "A moment of vivacity, npon
the visit of a friend, will not conduct us to the
recesses of the heart, or discover its feelings in
the hours of solitude." It is, indeed, altogether
unnatural for a man who set so high a value upon
his literary reputation, and certainly very unsuit.
able to the momentous occasion, to indulge in
such childish pleasantries, as Hume is represented
to have done, at the moment when he considered
himself as just about to be launched into non-
existence; and, therefore, we have some reason to
suspect, that his apparent tranquillity was partly
the effect of vanity and affectation. He has con-
fessed, says Dr. Cogan, in the most explicit terms,
that his principles were not calculated to adminis-
ter consolation to a thinking mind. This appears
from the following passage in his treatise on Hu-
man Nature. " I am affrighted and confounded
with that forlorn solitude in which I am placed
by my philosophy. When I look abroad, I fore-
see, on every side, dispute, contradiction, and dis-
traction. When I turn my eye inward, I find
nothing but doubt and ignorance. Where am I,
or what? From what causes do I derive my ex-
istence, and to what condition shall I return? I
am confounded with these questions, and begin
to fancy myself in the most deplorable condi-
tion imaginable, environed with the deepest dark-
ness."*

Diderot, one of the French philosophists, was a
man of very considerable acquirements in litera-
Vnre and iu the physical sciences. The first pub-
iicution by which lie attracted public notice, was
a volume v/rittcn against the Christian religion,
entitled Pensees Philosophiques. Afterward, in
company with Voltaire and D'Alembert, he con-

* Treatise on Human Nature, vol. 1, p. 458.

ducted the publication of the Diclionnaire Ency»
clopedique, the secret object of wliich was to sap
the foundations of all religion, while the reader,
at the same time, was presented with the most
splendid articles on the Belles Leltres, mathema-
tics, and the different brunches of physical science.
While a weak divine, to whom the theological
department of the work was committed, was sup-
porting, by the best arguments he could devise,
the religion of his country, Diderot and D'Alem-
bert were overturning those arguments under
titles which properly allowed of no sucli disqui-
sitions; and that the object of these digressions
might not pass unnoticed by any class of readers, '
care was taken to refer to them from the articles
where the question was discussed by the divine.
Hero was an example of that hjpotrisy to which
I have already adverted, as characteristic of the
sect of infidel philosophers; and the following
anecdote is illustrative of similar disingenuity,
coupled with almost unparalleled impudence. In
the course of his correspondence with the late
Empress of Russia, Diderot mentioned his own
library, as one of the most valuable in Europe,
although it is supposed not to have contained
above a hundred volumes. When Catharine
wanted to purchase it and make him librarian,
he said, that his constitution could not support the
cold climate of Petersburgh. She offered to let
him keep it during his lifetime at Paris; and the
library was sold for an immense price. When
her ambassador wanted to see it, after a year or
two's payments, and the visitation could no longer
be put off, he was obliged to run in a hurry,
through all the booksellers' shops in Germany, to
fill his empty shelves with old volumes. It was
customary for Diderot and D'Alembert to fre-
quent the coffee-houses of Paris, and to enter with
keenness into religious disputes, the former at-
tacking Christianity, and the latter, under the
mask of piety, defending it, but always jielding
to the arguments of his opponent. This practice
was put a stop to by the police; and Diderot,
when reproached by the lieutenant for preaching
atheism, replied, "It is true, I am an atheist, and
I glory in it." But such principles will not al-
ways support the mind, nor did they support
the mind of Diderot, when his dissolution ap-
proached. When he perceived that death was at
no great distance, he desired that a priest might
be brought, and the Cure de St. Sulpice was in-
troduced to him. He saw this ecclesiastic seve-
ral times, and was preparing to make a public
recantation of his errors, but Condorcet and the
other adepts now crowded about him, persuaded
him that his case was not dangerous, and that
country air would restore him to health. For
some time he resisted their attempts to bring him
back to atheism, but they secretly hurried him to
the country, where he died, and a re])ort was
spread that he died suddenly on rising from the
table, without remorse, and with his atheism un-
shaken.

Such arc the native effects of the highest in-
tellectual accomplishments, and the most brilliant
acquirements in science, when unaccompanied
with the spirit of true religion and of Christian
morality. Tbey cannot improve the moral order
of society; th.ey cannot procure for their posses-
sors substantial enjoyment, even in the pre£<;nt
life, and they are altogether inadequate to sup-
port and tranquillize the soul in the prospect of
(he agonies of dissolving nature. Notwithstand-
ing the rational gratifications such persons may
have occasionaily enjoyed in philosophical pur-
suits, tliey must be obliged to confess, that they

182 APPENDIX.

have acquiretl no equivalent for those joys whicli
frequently uiuniuto the hearts of the most illite-
rate, who are sometimes enahled to look forward
to tiic king of terrors without dismay, and to de-
{arl in peace with liopes full of immortulity, —
when llio piiiloiophist is obliged to exclaim, "All
is now losl, rinally and irrecoverably lost." Yet
6nch is the tendency of the principles which are
now in operation in our literary and scientitic
seminaries, and such the result to which we must
ultimately look forward, should the principles of
religion be discarded from the pursuits of know-
ledge.

It is therefore to be hoped, that all who have
a sincere regard for the promotion of science, for
the interests of religion, and for the welfare of
their country, will devote a portion of their atten-
tion to this important subject, and set their faces
n opposition to the spirit of that skeptical philo-
sophy which has so long debased and demoralized
the continental philosophists. Were all the in-
structions delivered in our seminaries, from in-
fant schools, through all the gradations of gram-
mar and parochial establishments, mechanics' in-
stitutions, academies, and universities, judicious-
ly amalgamated with the principles of puj-e and
undetiled religion, it would doubtless be accom-

panied with a variety of phasing and beuehcia.
effects. It would tend to remove the prejudices
which a considerable portion of the religious
world still entertain against the pursuits of sci-
ence,— it would load to correct and rational views
of the Christian system, and tend to dissipate
those foolish and superstitious notions which have
too frequently been grafted upon it, — it would
promote the interests of genuine morality among
society at large, — it would fit the inferior ranks
of the community for taking a part in the elec-
tive franchise and government of their country,
and the higher ranks for promoting the enact-
ment of laws congenial to the spirit of true reli-
gion, and promotive of the best interests of the
nation, — it would tend to secure the peace and
tranquillity of nations by undermining the malig-
nant passions from which wars and contentions
derive their origin, — it would introduce a general
spirit of philanthropy, and give efficacy to the
means employed for promoting the knowledge of
Christianity througliout the world, and would, ere
long, usher in the period foretold in ancient pro-
phecy, when "the knowledge of Jehovah shall
cover the earth, as the waters cover the channels
of the deep," and "when righteousness and praise
shall spring forth before all nations."

APPENDIX.

No. I. — Ignorance of the Dark Ages. Page 12.

The following facts, chieflj' extracted from Dr.
Robertson's history of Charles V, will show the
low state of literature, and the deplorable igno-
rance which characterized the period to which
the text refers. In the ninth century, Herbaud
Comes Palatii, though supreme judge of the em-
pire, by virtue of his office, could not subscribe
his name. As late as the fourteenth century, Du
Guesclin, constable of France, the greatest man
in the state, could neither read nor write. Nor
was this ignorance confined to laymen, — the
greater part even of the clergy were not mauy
degrees superior to them in science. Many dig-
nified ecclesiastics could not subscribe the canons
of those councils of which they sat as members.
One of the questions appointed by the canons to
be put to persons who were candidates for holy
orders was this — "Whether they could read the
Gospels and Epistles, and explain the tenor of
them, at least literally?" — Alfred the Great com-
plained, that from the Humber to the Thames,
there was not a priest who understood the liturgy
in his mother tongue, or who could translate the
easiest piece of Latin; and that from the Thames
to the sea, the ecclesiastics were still more igno-
rant. The ignorance of the clergy is quaintly
described by Alanus, an author of the dark ages,
in the following words: — "Potius dediti galea
quam glossse; potms colligunt libras quamlegunt
libros; libentius intuentur Martham quam Mar-
cum; malunt legere in Salmone quam in Solomo-
ne," i. €., They gave themselves more willingly
to the pleasures of gluttony than to the learning
of languages; they chose rather to collect money
than to read books; they looked upon Martha
with a more affectionate eye than upon Mark,
and they found more delight ir reading in Salmon
thau in Solomon.

One of the causes of the universal ignorance
which prevailed during that period, was the scar-
city of books, alon'g with their exorbitant price,
and t!i,o difficulty of rendering them more com-
mon. The Romans wrote their books either on
parchment, or on paper made of the Egyptian p£l-
pyrus. The latter being the cheapest, was, of
course, the most commonly used. But after the
communication between Europe and Egypt was
broken ofF, on account of the latter having been
seized upon by the Saracens, the papyrus was no
loiiger in use in Italy and other European coun-
tries. They were obliged, on that account, to
write all their books upon parchment, and as its
price was high, books became extremely rare, and
of great value. We may judge of the scarcity of
the materials for writing them from one circum- ,
stance. There still remain several manuscripts
of the eighth, ninth, and following centuries,
written on parchment, from which some former
writing had been erased, in order to substitute a
now composition in its place. In this manner, it
is probable, several works of the ancients perish-
ed. A book of Livy, or of Tacitus might be
erased, to make room for the legendary tale of a
saint, or the superstitious prayers of a missal. —
Many circumstances prove the scarcity of books
during these ages. Private persons seldom pos-
sessed any books whatever. Even monasteries of
considerable note had only one missal. Lupus,
abbot of Eerriers, in a letter to the Pope, A. D
855, beseeches him to send him a copy of Cicero
De Oralore, and Quintillian's "Institutions,"
" for," says he, "although we have part of thoijo
books, there is no complete copy of them in
all France." The price of books became so high,
that persons of a moderate fortune could not af-
ford to purchase them. The Countess of Anjou
paid for a copy of the Homilies of Ilaiinou,
bishop of Alberstadt, two hundred sheep, five

FOOLISH AND SUPERSTITIOUS OPINIONS.

133

'^wdrtsTS cf wheat, and the same quantity of rye
twiJ inil'.ot. Even so late as tlio year 1471, when
Louis Xi borrowed llie works of Racis, the Ara-
bian physician, from the faculty of medicine in
Paris, lie not only deposited in pledge a conside-
rable quantity of plate, but was obliged to pro-
cure a nobleman to join with him as suretj' in a
deed, binding himself under a great forfeiture to
restore it. When any person made a present of
a book to a church or monastery, in which were
the only libraries during several ages, it was
deemed a donative of such value, that ho offered
it on the altar pro reinedio anim<s suce, in order to
obtain the forgiveness of his sins. In the eleventh
century, the art of making paper, in the manner
now become universal, was invented; by means
of which, not only the number of manuscripts
Increased, but the study of the sciences was won-
derfully facilitated.

No. II. — Foolish and Supersiitious Opinions re-
specting Comets and Eclipses. P. 15.

Aristotle held comets to be fierj' exhalations,
rising from the lower atmosphere to the upper or
fiery region, condensing during their rapid de-
scent, kindling on their near approach to the Em-
pyrenm, and burning until exhausted. Leonard
Digc/cs, an Almanac maker of the fourteenth
century, affirmed of comets — " That they signifie
corruption of the ayre; they are signes of earth-
quake, of warros, chaunging of kingdomes, great
dearth of corne, yea a common death of man and
beast." — Bodin supposed them spirits, wliich,
having lived on the earth innumerable ages, and
having at last completed their term of existence,
celebrate their last triumphs, or are recalled to
heaven in the form of shining stars. In the re-
cords of former ages, we read of a comet "com-
ing out from an opening in the heavens, like to a
dragon witli blue feet, and a head covered with
snakes." And we are told, that "in the year
1527, about four in the morning, not only in the
Palatinate of the Rhine, but nearly over all Eu-
rope, appeared for an hour and a quarter, a most
horrible comet in this sort. In its length it was
of a bloody color, iuclinrng to saflroji. From the
top of its train 'ippeared a bended arm, in the
hand whereof vas a huge sword, in the instant
posture of striking. At the point of the sword
was a star. From the star proceeded dusky rays,
like a hai'y tail; on the side of them other rays
like javelins, or lesser swords, as if imbrued in
blood; between which appeared human faces of
the color of blackish clouds, with rough h\ir and
beards. All these moved with such terrible spark-
ling and brightness, that many spectators swoon-
ed with fear." — Rosenbergi " Exampla Gime-
tarum."

The comet of 1454, seen at Constantinople,
seemed there to be moving in the firmament, from
west to cast, and to present tlie aspect of a flam-
ing sword. From its great magnitude, it is said
even to have eclipsed the moon, and created among
the Turks the utmost consternation, as it was
thought to prognosticate nothing less than a cru-
sade from all the kingdoms of Christendom, and
forebode the certain overthrow of the crescent.
Only two years afterward, when, notwithstand-
ing these direful omens, the Turkish arms had
proved eminently victorious, and were spreading
dismay over all Europe, HoUey's comet, in 1456,
with a long tail turned toward the east, created
reciprocal and still greater alarms on the part of
the Christians. Pope Calixtus believed it to be at
once tlie sign and itictrunient of divine wrath; he

ordered public prayers to be offered up, and de-
creed, that, in every town, the bells should be
tolled at mid-day, to warn the people to suppli-
cate the mercy and forgiveness of heaven: " ut
omnes de prccibus contra Turcarum tyranni-
dem fundendis admonerentur." — That all jjcople
may be admonished to pour out supplications
against the tyranny of the Turks. — See Milne's
Essay on Comets.

Even in modern titnes, many foolish and pre-
posterous opinions have been entertained respect-
ing these anomalous bodies. In a late periodical
publication, the writer of an article on comets,
when alluding to the comet of 1811, procoeds to
state "some singular changes and circumstan-
ces," which its influence occasioned. "The win-
ter," says he, "was very mild, the spring was
wet, the summer cool, and very little appearance
of the sun to ripen the produce of the earth; yet
the harvest was not deficient, and some fruits
were not only abundant, but delicionsly ripe,
such as figs, melons, and wall-fruit. Very few
wasps appeaj'ed, and the flies became blind, and
disappeared early in the season. No violent
storms of thunder and lightning, and little or no
frost and snow the ensuing winter. Venison,
which has been supposed to be indebted for its
flavor to a dry and parched summer, was by no
means deficient in fat or in flavor. But what is
very remarkable," continues tliis sage observer,
"in the metropolis, and about it, was the number
of females who produced twins; some had more;
and a shoemaker's .vite, in White-chapel, produced
four at one birth, all of whom," &c. &c. And
all such " singular changes and circumstances,"
it would appear, according to the fancy of this
sapient Essayist, " were occasioned by the influ-
ence of the comet which appeared in the autumn
of 1811 !!"

The poets, likewise, by their bombastic descrip-
tions, have tended to perpetuate superstitious
feelings. The following is Du Barta's descrip-
tion of one of these visitors.

" Here, in the night, appears a flaming spire.
There, a fierce drtigon, folded all on fire;
Here, with long bloody hairs, a blazing star
Threatens the world with famine, plague, and war;
To princes death, to kingdoms many crosses;
To all estates inevitable losses;
To herdsmen rot, to plowmen hapless seasons;
To sailors storms, to cities civil treasons."

The following extract from "Tully's Letters
from Tripoli," contains a picturesque description
of a solar eclipse, and the effects it produced on
the inhabitants of Barbary.

" I cannot here omit describing what an extra-
ordinary impression an eclipse makes on the un-
informed part of the inhabitants of this country.
Of this we had ocular proof during the great
eclipse of the sun, on the 4th of this month,
which was almost total, and occasioned, for some
minutes, a gloomy darkness, resembling that of
midnight. The beginning of the echpse was
seen at Tripoli, at half past seve.n in the morning;
at half past eight, when it was at the higlit, the
face of nature was changed from day to night.—
The screech-owl, not long retired to its rest, re-
appeared, and disturbed the morning with its
shrieks. Lizards and serpents were seen prowl-
ing about the terraces; and flights of evening
birds, here called marabats, and held sacred by
the Moors, flew about in great numbers, and in-
creased the darkness. The noisy flitting of their
wings roused the Moor, who had been stupified by
fear; and when one of these heavy birds (which

i34

APPENDIX.

•iften (li-op to tlie ground by coining in contact
witli eucli otiior) chaucod to I'all at his foct, the
Afrioan would siart aghust, look at it wir.h liorror,
and sot up a hideous howl. About eight o'clock,
when the luster of tlie iiioniing was completely
faded, the coainion Moors were seen assembling
in clusters in the streets, gazing wildly at the
sun, and conversing very earnestly. When the
eclipse was at its hight, they ran about distracted,
in conipaiiies, firing volleys of muskets at the
sun, to frighten away the monster or dragon, as
they called it, by which they supposed it was be-
ing d 'vourod. At that moment, the Moorish song
of death and walliah-woo , or the howl tliey make
for the dead, not only resounded from the moun-
tains and valleys of Tripoli, but was undoubtedly
re-echoed throughout the continent of Africa. —
The women brought into the streets all the brass
pans, kettles, and iron utensils they could col-
lect; and, striking on them with all their force,
and screaming at the same time, occasioned a
horrid noise, that was heard for miles. Many of
these women, owing to their exertions and fears,
fell into fits, or fainted. The distress and terror
of the Moors did not in the least abate, until
near nine o'clock, when the sun assured them,
by his refulgent beams, that all his dangers were
passed. *

" During the morning and the day, the atraos-
pheie was uncommonly clear, even for a Barbary
sky, which rendered the effects of this great
eclipse more striking. We learned, from Hadgi
Abderrahman, who paid us a visit when it was
over, that the first ladies in the place had trembled
at the event, and several were seriously ill. The
ladies of his own family, he said, had suffered
much less at the appearance of the eclipse, from
the circumstance of his being at home with them;
for, though he considered it would be useless to
enter into a philosophical account of it to them,
yet he assured them that the moon went occa-
Koually to see the sun; and when they met, by
tlieir being so close together, the moon always
interrupted more or less of his light. This ac-
count, he said, the truth of which they were con-
vinced of by his great earnestness, considerably
abated their fears. To the ambassador it was a
serious case, as Lilla Aninani is in a very delicate
state of health; but the account he gave her of
the phenomenon entirely pacified her."

The above description presents a melancholy
picture of the gross ignorance even of the ladies
of modern Barbary, and of the consequent shal-
lowness of their understandings; since their fathers
and husbands considered it useless to enter into a
rational account of the phenomenon, and since {
they were pleased with such an absurd and extrav-
agant explanation of it. And, since the higher ,
ranks, in that country, are so grossly ignorant of '
tlie order of nature, and of the causes of so com-
mon phenomena, in what a state of mental dark- I
ness must the lower classes of society be placed! i
Nor is Barbary the only country in which such
ignorance prevails. Among the middling and !
lower ranks, in many European countries, suppo- 1
sed to b? in a moJerate state of civilization, a ,
similar degree of intellectual debasement will be |
found to exist. The Croatians, who inhabit a
certain district of the Austrian empire, make the j
whole of their religion consiNt in the hearing of
mass and the observance of Lent; and robbery or |
murder are considered as more venial crimes, than I
to eat, during Lent, with a s])oon that has been
dipped in broth. The Morlacclii, who occupy i
another district of the same empire, are described
by geographers, as extremely superstitious it |

their religious opinions, and as firmly believing ia
ghosts and witches, in sorceries and enchantments,
and in every species of supernatural agency, while
they are ignorant of the causes of the most com-
mon phenomena of nature.

No. in. — Absurdities of Astrology, &.c. P Id

Mr. Varley's "Zodiacal Physiognomy," referred
to in a note, p. 19, pretends to decide, that tha
various signs of the zodiac create a great diversity
in the features and complexions of human beings;
and have, in fact, such influence over the desti-
nies of tiic human race that the S3'stem may ba
fairly styled, "the phrenology of the skies."
The following extracts exhibit a few specimens
of the positions maintained hy \.\\^s profound and
erudite writer. " It has been discovered," says
Mr. Varlcy, " that each sign confers a specific
style of countenance, feature, and complexion, by
which appearances, alone, the sign which was
rising at the east, at birth, can often without any
otlu>r help, be ascertained." — " The fiery trigon,
consisting of Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius, contains
the spirited, generous, magnanimous, and princely
natures. The earthy trigon, Taurus, Virgo, and
Capricorn, contain the careful, sordid, and perni-
cious qualities; the aerial trigon, Gemini, Libra,
and Aquarius, contain the humane, harmonious,
and courteous principles ; and the watery trigon,
Cancer, Scorpio, and Pisces, the cold, prolific,
cautious, and severe qualities." "Sagittarius, the
house of Jupiter, is the only sign under which no
persons are born having black or dark hair, eyes,
and eye-brows." "I have always uniformly
found," says the auihor, "those born under Sa-
gittarius, to be very fair, with gray eyes, and, in
general, of a lively, forgiving-hearted, and free
dispositions." Again, "Five minutes' difference
of the time of their birth, renders the members
of the same family red-haired, or black-haired,
blue-eyed or black-eyed, sordid or generous."
— "Saturn, at any period of life, passing through
the ascendant, which he does every thirty
years, causes dullness or melancholy, for a few
weeks, to the native, and when Jupiter passes
over it, the party feels cheerful and healthy; and
should a party of antiquarians, hundreds of years
after a person's death, discover his grave, there
must be some planet or the sun in conjunction, or
some other aspect with his ascendant." — "Jupiter
in the third house gives safe inland journeys, and
agreeable neighbors or kindred. Tlie moon in
this house will give constant trudging from one
place to another, and is often so posited in the
nativities of postmen and travelers. Jupiter in
the fourth, with Venus, gives fixed or landed pro-
perfy, and a house ornamented with matters of
taste, or of the fine arts. Jupiter in the fifth,
gives a family of good or clever children, and
much pleasure in life and its amusements. In tha
sixth, he signifies good servants and assistants,
good health, and that the native will be fortu-
nate in suia'll cattle and animals. Jupiter in the
seventh, signifies a good wife or husband, and
agreeable dealings with mankind in making good
bargains," &c. "Children born under Mars have
well formed chins, — under Aquarius, are fair and
amiable, — under Scorpio, are dark with aquiline
7zoses, and greenish or gray eyes." " Lord Byron,
who was born under Scorpio, received enough of
the reflected Taurus principle to prevent his nose
from being aquiline, and to give to his character
a degree of per^'ersencss or eccentricity." "Per-
sons born under Aries, with Jupiter in the first
house, are likely to succeed and be appreciated

ABSURDITIES OF ASTROLOGY.

135

in Englana. If he be posited in Taurus, the
native is likely to succeed well in Ireluiid; if in
Gemijii, in London, of which this sign is tlie sig-
nificator Jupiter in Cancer will give him suc-
cess ill Scotland, or Holland, or concerns con-
Jiecled with the water, unless Jupiter should he
nffl^Vted hy any malevolent planet, or be in com-
bustion by being too near the sun."

By this time the reader will be sufficiently
satiated with the sage doctrines of Mr. John
Varley, in relation to "Zodiacal Physiognomy"
and the Plirenology of the heavens. If he has a
desire to pick up any more of such precious
fragments of wisdom, he will be abundantly
gratified in perusing tiie work itself, where, among
other uniijue and precious relics, he will be pre-
sented with an engraving of the Ghost of a Flea,
togetlier witii an account of the manner in which
it apj)eared to Mr. Blake the artist, who drew it,
and of its astrological correspondency and signi-
fication. That such absurdities should be pub-
lished by the first bookselling establishment in
London, in the twenty-eighth year of the nine-
teenth century, and be purchased by hundreds,
perhaps by tliousands, is a proof, that strong
efForts are still requisite to extirpate the supersti-
tions of astrology from the minds of many of
our countrymen.

No. IV. — Proofs of the belief which is still attached
to the d'jcirines of Astrology, and of tJte ptrnicious
effects it produces. P. 16.

That tlie predictions of astrologers are still be-
I'cved by many of out countrymen in the mid-
dling ranks of life, appears from the following
recent occurrences.

On the 2d September, 1829, Joseph Hyatt, a
, journeyman printer, was summoned before Sir
reter Laurie, at the Guildhall, London, charged
with assaulting his wife. Philips, on the preceding
Saturday. In liis defense, Hyatt declared, that
all their unhappiness proceeded from his wife (a
pretty young woman of eighteen years), conti-
nually haunting the fortune-tellers, and paying
attention to their predictions. He produced a
paper he had recently found, written by an astro-
loger, to whom his wife had applied. After lay-
ing down the position of the planets on the third
of June, at the moment she applied to him, the
astrologer proceeds, "The querant must not
expect any one to be very kind to her until late
in this year, say October next. This day will
not prove anything kind or pleasant. The 28th
day of this month also will not be friendly. July
2d, mind your phuuny, and take no journey, and
trust to no relative. The eighth day will not be
unkind, I hope. Look to it. The thirteenth
day also promises you pleasure and also profit.
Attend it; and avoid all dark sallow persons.
(Her husband nearly answered this description.)
From such your disappointments must come.
August 2, 6, 2'J, avoid them days — may be quali-
fied to give you vexation, — avoi 1 them. Sept. 1,
6, will be unkind, but pray avoid 15, 20. Octo-
4, avoid it, may be vexatious. The 20, 21, 27, 28,
29, 30, will be more kind, pray attend to them
and make good use of them, they will not be
unkind." The husband said, this fellow had pre-
dicted their separation for three months ; what
other things he had put in her head he did not
know, but he led a miserable life with her. —
Morning Chronicle, Sept. 2d, 1629.

On the same day as above stated (Sept. 2,
1829), Ann Wheeler, a serv'ant girl, was brought
lo tlie Mansion liause, charged v/ith having at-

tempted to enter the house of her master, at two
o'clock in the morning, over the rails. She was
ex<iuisitely dressed, and wore an elegant satin
bonnet, which belonged to her mistress, and put
on her curls and finery in ordef to attend a "Aqp"
in the neighborhood, and acknowledged that she
had been walking for an hour or two up and
down the streets in conversation with her friend.
In the course of the investigation it was stated,
that there was found in the corner of her box,
wrapped up carefully, a document which might
have led to those unseasonable and unfortunate
assignations, which at last terminated in lier being
brought to the watch-house. A paper was handed
to the Lord ftlayor, in which was folded a card,
on which was written the following words, —

" i\Irs. Smith, No. 49, Wcntworth Street, Dress
Maker."

" Lawful questions resolved."
The paper was an answer to the question, "What
sort of a husband shall I have, and how soon shall
I have him?" It stated, that the " interrogator
should have a nice respectable tradesman, who
should be a most tender husband, and be the fa-
ther of six children, of wiiich she should be the
happy mother; — that certain planets were viMble at
their birth, and in conjunction at the time, a sijmp-
tom tluit betokened felicity, and that the union should
take place as surely as he or she (the person who
wrote the paper) had the power of predicting." —
Morning Chronicle, Sept. 3d, 1829.

The above are only specimens of many similar
occurrences which are occasionally recorded in
the daily papers. The pernicious tendency of
astrological predictions on those who are weak
enough to give them credit, is sufficiently appa-
rent in the cases now stated; having in the one
case alienated the affections of a young woman
from her husband, and produced contention and
family discord, and in the other, tantalized a vain
young female, and brought her into suspicious
and disgraceful circumstances, which may lay
the foundation of her ruin, and render her misera-
ble for life.

No. V. — Illustrations of some of the opinions and
practices of our ancestors in relation to witch- •
craft. P. 18.

By witclieraft was generally understood, — a su-
pernatural power, of which persons were sup-
posed to obtain the possession, by enteriug into a
compact with the devil. They gave themselves
up to him, body and soul: and he engaged that
they should want for nothing, and that he would
avenge them upon all their enemies. As soon as
the bargain was concluded, the devil delivered to
the witch an imp, or familiar spirit, to be ready at
a call, and to do whatever it was directed. By
the assistance of this imp, and of the devil toge-
ther, the witch, who was almost always an old
woman, was enabled to transport herself through
the air, on a broomstick, or a spit, to distant places
to attend the meetings of the witches. At these
meetings the devil always presided. They were
enabled also to transform themselves into various
shapes, particularly to assume the forms <i cats
and hares, in which they most delighted; to inflict
diseases on whomsoever they thought prop"r, and
to punish their enemies in a variety of ways-
Witchcraft was universally believed m Europe,
until the sixteenth century, and maintained its
ground with tolerable firmness until the middle
of tlie seventeenth, nay, in some countries on the
continent, until the middle of the eighteenth cen-
tury. Vast numbers of reputed witches were

136

APPENDIX.

convicted and condemned to be burnt every year.
Tlie methods of discoverinjr them were various.
One v/as to vvei<rli tlie supponeil criminal against
tiie church Bible, which, if siie was guilty, would
preponderate; anoflier, by making her attempt to
say the Lord's Prayer, — this no wilcli was able
to rc[)oiit entirely, but would omit some part,
or sentence thereof. It is remarkable, that all
witches did not hesitate at the .same part, — some
leaving out one part, and some another. Tea/s,
through which the imps sucked, were indubitable
marks of a witch; these were always raw, and
also ins.Misible, and, if squeezed, sometimes yield-
ed a drop of blood. A witch could not weep
more than three tears, and that only out of the
left eye. This want of tears was, by the witch-
finders, and even by some judges, considered as
a very substantial proof of guilt. Swimming a
witch was another kind of popular ordeal gene-
rally practiced. For this she was stripped naked,
and cross-bound, — the right thumb to the left toe,
and the left thumb to the right toe. Thus pre-
pared, she was thrown into a pond or river, in
which, if guilty, she could not sink; for having,
by her compact with the devil, renounced the
benefit of the water of baptism, that element, in
its turn, renounced her, and refused to receive
her into its bosom. There were two other or-
deals hj fire, by which witches were discovered;
Die first by burning the thatch of the house of the
suspected witch, — the other, by burning any ani-
mal supposed to be bewitched by her, as a hog or
an ox. These, it was held, would force a witch
to confess.

The trial by the stool was another method used
for the detection of witches. It was thus ma-
naged:— Having taken the suspected witch, she
was placed in the middle of a room, upon a stool,
or table, cross-legged, or in some other uneasy
posture; to which, if she did not submit, she was
then bound with cords, — there she was watched,
and kept without meat or sleep for twenty-four
hours (for, they said, that within that time they
should see her imp come and suck). A little
hole was likewise made in the door for imps to
come in at, and, lest it should come in some less
discernible shape, they that watched were taught
to be ever and anon sv.'eeping tlie room, and, if
they saw any spiders or flies, to kill them, — if
they could not kill them, then they might be sure
they were imps. If witches, under examination
or torture, would not confess, all their apparel was
changed, and every hair of their body shaven oil
with a sharp razor, lest they should secrete ma-
gical charms to prevent their confessing. It was
a maxim, too, in these proceedings, that witches
were most apt to confess on Fridays. By such
trials as these, and by the accusations of children,
old woraeii, and fools, were thousands of unhappy
women, condemned for witchcraft, and burned at
the stake.

A work, written by M. Thoest, was published
a few years ago at Mentz, entitled, "The His-
tory of JMagic, Demons, Sorcerers," &c., which
contains an .atlecting narrative of the numbers
that have sufured for the pretended crime of ma-
gic and witchcraft. The cases enumerated are
proved from unequivocal authority. In these ex-
cesses of the magistrates, it appears, that female
eorcereni have been the greatest sufierers. Among
other curioii" articles in the collection, we learn,
that Christopher de Runtzow, a gentleman of
Holstein, whose heated imagination had misled
his understanding, consigned eighteen persons to
ike fiames at one time, the victims of a merciless
saperstitiou. In a village called Lindheira, con- 1

taining about six hundred inhabitants, not less
than thirty were destroyed by fire, in the narrow
interval between the years IGGl and 1GG5, mak-
ing a twentieth part of the whole population con-
sumed in four years. In this inhuman conduct
toward an unhappy class of persons, the author
points out Wnrtzburg as having frequently been
subject to well-merited reproach. It appears from
the Ada Magica. of Naubcrs, that between tha
years 1G27 and 1629, one hundred and twenty-
seven individuals perished in similar instances of
cruelty practiced by their brother men. The
principal objects of such nefarious dealings were
old women, or travelers, and frequently \yooT
children, from nine to ten years of age. Occa-
sionally such outrages have been perpetrated on
persons of some consequence, — proficients in
knowledge above the general standard of the age,
or such as had acquired property by their indus-
try and genius. Among many others in these
shocking details, are the respectable names of
fourteen vicars, two young gentlemen, some
counselors, the largest or most corpulent man in
Wurtzburg, and his wife, the handsomest woman
in the city, and a student or scholar engaged in
the study of foreign languages. Those innocent
suff'erers were frequently put to the torture. But
what must our feelings and principles incline us
to think of an enormity here brought to our re-
collection, in the instance of a poor girl, Maria
Renata, who suffered so late as in tiie year 1749!
The extent of the judicial murders for witch-
craft is far greater than most persons, who have
not studied the history of demonology, can form
any idea. From the period in which Pope In-
nocent VIII, in 1484, issued his bull against
witchcraft, to the middle of the seventeenth cen-
tury, if we believe the testimonies of contempo-
rary historians, Europe was little better than a
large suburb or outwork of Pandemonium, one
half of the population being either bewitching
or bewitched. Delrio tells us, that five hun-
dred witches were executed in Geneva, in three
months, about the year 1515. "A thousand,"
says Bartholomeus de Spina, " were executed in
one year, in the diocese of Como, and they went
on burning at the rate of a hundred per annum
for some time after. In Lorraine, from 1580
to 1595, Remigius boasts of having burnt nine
hundred. In France, the executions for the
same crime were fifteen hundred and twenty.
In Wurtzburg and Treves, the amount of execu-
tions in the course of the century preceding 1628,
is reckontd to be 15,700. It has been calculated
that in Germany alone, the number of victims
that perished, from the date of Innocent's bull to
the eighteenth century, considerably exceeds one
hundred thousand. The executions were at first
confined to crazed old women, or unhappy foreign-
ers, but at length the witchcraft frenzy rose to
such a pitch, and spread so extensively, that the
lives of more exalted victims were tlireat'j:aed.
Noblemen and abbots, presidents of courts and
professors, began to swell the catalogue, and no
man fdt secure that he might not suddenly be
compelled, by torture, to bear witness against his
own innocent wife and children. In the Catholic
canton of GUirus, in Switzerland, 't is said, that
a witch was burnt, even so lati> as the yeai 1786!
It is impossible for any rational and humane mind
to peruse such a list as the above, without shud-
dering and horror. How dreadful the results to
which ignorance and superstition have led I — and
how astonishing the consideration,' — that judgeq<
lawyers, ministers of religion, nobles, and persons
of all ranks should have given their sanction

PREVALENT BELIEF IN DEMONOLOGY.

1B7

without tlie least remorse, to such cruelties and
legalized murders!

In Pitcairn's "Criminal Trials," referred to in
the text, a variety of curious documents is cou-
taiued, respecting the proceedings of the Justi-
ciary Court in Scotland against witchcraft, sorce-
ry, and incantation. One of these trials relates
to a gentleman of family, Mr. Hector Monro
of Fowies, who was "indytit and accusit" of
"sorcerie, incantationnis, or witchcraft." This
trial contains a complete specimen of the super-
stition of the age. Mr. Hector, it would appear,
had sent for " Johne M'Connielly-gar and his
wyfFes, and Johne Bunes wyfl'e, in Lytell Alteis,
thre notorious and commoune witclies." They
had been sent for to assist in restoring the health
of Robert Monro, a brother of the said Mr. Hector,
who entertained them for five days. It is said in
the indictment, tliat they " poillit the hair of
Robert Monro, his brotheris head, plait the naillis
of his lingeris and tais," and " socht be thair
develisch meanes to have cureit him of his sick-
ness;" but it would appear, that the weird sisters
were by no means successful, and were compelled
to decamp, for " they wald half vsit furth the rest
of thair develisch craft was pocht they ferit to
tarie with him (Hector Monro) be ressone of his
fader, quha wald haif apprehendit thame; and
they declarit to him that he was owre lang in
' senduig for thame, swa that tiiey cald do na guid
^ to the said Robert Monro." Mr. Hector, how-
ever, fell sick himself, and had recourse to the
hags for a cure; and as he had an eye to the pa-
trimony of his father, to which he could not suc-
ceed as he was a younger son, he began some in-
cantations, in concert with the hags, to deprive
his elder brother, George Monro, of life, and for
this he was " delatit," also of "slaughter." The
indictment, which is a most remarkable docu-
ment, is too long for insertion. Jonett Grant,
Jonett Clark, and Bessie Roy, nurse to the " Laird
of Boquhave," are the three next ladies who were
called to account for being " fylit" of witchcraft.
The two Jonetls seem to have been in partner-
ship; and if the indictments are to be credited,
they were guilty of no fewer than six " crewal
murthcrs," by witchcraft, of the " slavchter and
destructionne of saxtene held of nolt, of raising
the devil, of making men eunuclts by witchcraft,"
&c. For such hardened sinners as the two Jo-
netts, no mercy was to be expected, and accord-
ingly they were condemned to be "tane to the
Castle hill of Edinburg, and there werriet at ane
staik, and their body to be burnt to assis." Bes-
sie Roy, however, came off with flying colors,
although she was also indicted as " ane com-
moune tliief," by means of the " enchantment
and sliclit of the diuill." — The following is the title
of a pamphlet republislied by Mr. Pitcairn, con-
taining a most extraordinary narrative. "Newes
from Scotland, declaring the damnable life of
Doctor Fean, a notable sorcerer, who was burned
at Edinburg in Janurie last, 1501, which doctor
was register to the deuill, that sundrie times
preached at North Barricke kirk, to a number of
notorious witches." Tlie poor woman who was
most cruelly treated was Euph;ine Mackalsano, a
notable witch, who appears to have been so no-
torious as to be " bound to ane staik, and brunt
to assis, quick to the death." "This," says AIj.
PitcairTi, " was the severest sentence ever pro-
nounced by the court, even in the most atrocious
cases," but poor Euphane died, nevertheless, with
all the heroism and devotedness of a martyr. — See
Edin. Lit. Gaz., July, 1829.

To attempt a serious refutation of the doc-

trines of witchcraft, would be altogether superflu-
ous and even ridiculous. ^ That there eVer were
witches, that is, persons endowed with such pow-
ers as are usually ascrihed to witches, is what no
rational and enlightened mind can for a moment
admit. The actions imputed to them are either
absurd or impossible. To suppose an ignorant old
woman, or indeed any human being, capable of
transforming herself into a cat or a hare, is to
suppose li(^r capable of counteracting the laws of
nature, which is competent to none but the Su-
[ireme Ruler of the world. We might almost as
soon believe that such a being is capable of creat-
ing the universe. It presents a most humiliating
picture of the imbecility of the human mind, that
such absurdities should ever have been bi'lieved;
and certainly conveys no very favorable idea of
the hvmanitij of our ancestors, when they inflicted,
without remorse, so many shocking cruelties,
especially on the tender sex, for such fancied
crimes. Yet, absurd as the doctrine of witchcraft
certainly is, it is a lamentable fact, that vast mul-
titudes of our fellow-men, both in our own coun-
try and in other lands, are still believers in sorcery
and witchcraft, of which an instance or two is
stated in the following note.

No. VI. — Proofs that the belief in witchcraft is still
pretalent aiiwng certain classes of society.

Notwithstanding the degree of information
which prevails in the nineteenth century, it is a
melancholy consideration that superstition, and a
belief in the efficacy of certain incantations, still
prevail to a considerable extent, even in the ihost
enlightened countries. The following recent oc-
currences will tend to corroborate this position,
and at the same time show the pernicious conse-
quences which frequently result from such a be-
lief.

On the 2d September 1829, Laurent Raim-
boult, a farmer in the hamlet of Redoire, Com-
mune of Champetre, in France, spent the day in
measuring wheat at the house of Poirier liis
brother-in-law. About eight o'clock in the even-
ing, he left to go to his own house, which was
about half a league from Poirier's house. He
carried a bag containing the measure he had been
using, and a box holding his dinner, which he had
not opened; for he had stated his intention not to
eat until he returned home. The next morning
his corpse was found in a meadow, bordered by a
wood, and not very far from his own house. His
body was horribly mutilated, his clothes stained
with blood, and there was a large wound on the
back part of his head. All the wounds showed
that he had been struck by several persona armed
v'ltn contusive weapons. Near hiin the ground
had not been trod upon; his bag, and the things it
contained, were carefully laid by his side: all
proved that he had not been robbed. Poirier, who
had always had a good character in that part of
the country, was on very bad terms with Raim-
boult, who passed for a sorcerer. Some time ago,
the wife of Poirier had fallen sick, as well as
several of his cattle. Poirier did not doubt for an
instant, that these sicknesses were the eflect of
sorcery. He came to Angers, and consulted a
pretended diviner, a miserable victim of monoma-
nia, who gave him a full water-bottle, and told
iiim to take it home with him, and put it in the
very best4)lace of his house. "At such an hour,"
saiii the diviner, "you should recite such and such
])rayers before my water-bottle, ami then you will
see in the water it contains, the likeness of him
who has bewitched your wife and your cattle."

138

APPENDIX.

Poirier followed those orders precisely; and it is
oulj' too probable that his iinaginalion binug pro-
occupied with the idea, tiiis wrotched inau ruuciod
he saw his brother-iu-law in the water-bottle of
the guilty diviner, and tiiought he was doing u
service to his country in di-Uvering it from a boing
whom ho rogardod as the friend and favorite of the
devil. — Copied from a Far is paper, in Murniay
Citron., Sipt. -23, 18:29.

The following occurrence, in another Depart-
ment of France, happened nearly about the same
time as the preceding.

" It appears that iu the department of Lot and
Garonne, and particularly in some of the com-
munes of the district of Marmaude, the beliof of
sorcery is common among the people. John Sa-
bathe, a peasant, with plenty of money, living
in the Vicinity of Clairac, had a sick daughter:
medicine had failed, which is nothing extraordi-
nary ; but there remained magic, and Sabathe
greatly relied upon it. He applied to Rose Feres,
who enjoyed the reputation of being a witch. He
stated the condition of his daughter; — the witch
replied, she would go and visit her. She went the
next morning to Sabathe's residence, saw tlie sick
girl, and declared she was bewitched. [ Perhaps
she was not so far wrong either, for some witnes-
ses, who were no doubt very spiteful, gave it as
their opinion that love had entered a little into
this affair.] Whatever was the cause of her ill-
ness, the witch promised to relieve her, and said,
that the thing was not without a remedy. She
told them to light a great fire, and they would see
why afterward. Little as we are initiated into
the secrets of magic, we know that odd numbers,
especially the number three, have singular virtues;
therefore 3 multiplied by 3 must be a number pro-
digiously powerful. It was apparently for. this
reason that the witch required nine large pebble
stones, which she put into the fire, and kept there
until they were red hot: she then threw them into
a kettle full of water, and the mysterious vapor
tliat arose served to perfume the patient that was
lying over it. But this was only the preamble of
ceremonies much more important. She had a
table brought to her; it was covered with a cloth,
and two lighted candles placed on it; there was
even an end of wax that had been used in the
church; a hammer was placed symmetrically
between the two candles, and on one side of the
table the witch laid, with a grave and mysterious
air, the formidable book of magic, so well known
by the name of Little Albert. She still wanted
one thing; it was a plate filled with water, in
which a sum of 400 francs (ItiZ. sterling) was to
be deposited. The plate was brought; — as to the
sum, we may remark, how difficult magic must
be to practice, and what attention is requisite to
its details. Crown pieces of six francs were about
to be put into tiie water, when the witch called
out, ' Take care what you are doing; it is crown
pieces of Jive francs that are wanted.' She was
instantly obeyed, — the crowns of five francs are
at the bottom of the plate.

" Things being in tliis state, everybody left the
house. The witch remained alone for about half
an hour; she then re-opened the doors, and said
they might re-enter. She added, that all had suc-
ceeded, but that the malignant spirit that had ap-
peared had carried away the 400 francs on with-
drawing. The witch's husband then arrived; his
wile told him that the assembly was made. ' It's
all well,' said he; ' but thy sister is at thy house, [
and she wants to see you, and we must go there. ;
They went accordingly; Sabathe and his family
a little stupefied, and the patient in the same state ;

as before. — These were the facts which were made
i known to the Court by indirect evidence, for these
good folks took care to make no complaint, for
fear of the witches. The court sentenced her to
imprisonment for three years, and a fim of fifty
francs. She had been charged before the Royal
Court of Agon for swindling, under pretense of
practicing witchcraft. — Some years ago, the same
Court sentenced to close imprisonment three or
four women, liviJig in the neighborhood of Ville-
real, for having put on the fire and half-burned a
pretended witch, who would not cure them of
a disease she had given them." — Gazette des
Tribunaux, as quoted in Mora. Chron., Sept. 28,
18:29.

In both the above cases we perceive an implicit
belief in the powers of divination and sorcery, a
belief which appears to be general among the
lower ranks of society; and it would appear that
the profession of witch or sorcerer is pretty com-
mon in the principal towns in France. In the
one instance this belief led to a most atrocious
murder, and in the other to a dexterous robbery;
and, in this Mtter case, it would seem, that, not-
withstanding the palpable imposture that was
practiced on Sabathe and his family, these simple
people still believed iu the supernatural powers
of the sorceress who had so barefacedly robbed
them, for " they look care to make no complaint,
for fear of the witches.''^ — Nearly akin to tlie no-
tions under consideration, is the following super-
stition relating to bees.

The practice of informing bees of any death
that takes place in a family, is well known, and
still prevails among the lower orders in England.
The disastrous consequences to be apprehended
from non-compliance with this strange custom
is, that the bees will dwindle and die. The inan«
ner of communicating the intelligence to the lit-
tle community, with due form and ceremony, is
this-^to take the key of the house, and knock
with it throe times agaijist the hive, telling the
inmates, at the same time, that their master or
mistress, &c. (as the case may be) is dead I Mr.
Loudon says, when in Bedfordshire lately, we
were informed of an old man who sung a psalm
last year in front of some hives which were not
doing well, but which, he said, would thrive in
consequence of that ceremony. — Magazine of
Nat. Hist, for 13:28.

The Constitutioimel (January 1828) states, that
under the influence of the Jesuits, and with the
countenance of the authorities, &.c. the most bru-
tifying tales of superstition and fanaticism are
printed and circulated in the provincbs of France.
One of the ridiculous narratives to which it al-
ludes, details the fate of a blaspheming baker,
who, being infected with the heresies of the Re-
volution, had addicted himself to the commission
of every kind of impiety. While his oven one
day was heated, and he was about to put the
bread into it, he vented his usual oaths in the
presence of two neighbors; when, lol the dough
miraculously refused to enter, and the baker was
seized with a cold shivering, of which he died in
two days. In his will he left 600 francs to the
church, confessed his enormities, and besoucht
the prayers of his friends. — In another, ive are
told of the discovery of a miraculous image,
which will be a permanent source of ecclesiasti.
ca! revenue. This image is that of a saint, which
has been for the last two centuries concealed
in a rock. It was discovered by means of a
little white bird perched upon a brilliant crucifix,
which guarded the spot. Since the discover/j
the lame walk, the sick are healed, and the blind

CAUSES OF APPARITIONS

139

recover their sight, by resorting to the consecrated
ground.

It is not above fifteen or sixteen years ago
since tlie late Alexander Davidson, A. M., lecturer
ouexijenuiental pliilosopliy and chemistry, when
in Ireland, was nuich annoyed by the superstitious
belief in necromancy and infernal agency, whicli
fitill prevails among a large portion of tiie lower
orders in that country. ^Vhen delivering a course
of lectures in a small town not far from London-
derry, the rumor of tiie experiments he perform-
ed spiead among the body of the people, many
of whom had listened at the outside of the hall
in which he lectured, to the loud detonations pro-
duced by electrical and other experiments, par-
ticularly the explosions of hydrogen gas. The
great majority of the inhabitants believed he was
an astrologer and necromancer, and considered
it dangerous to have the slightest intercourse with
his family, even in the way of buying and sell-
ing. One morning his servant-maid was sent out
for bread and groceries for breakfast. After a
considerable time, she returned with a pitiful
countenance and a heavy heart, and declared tliat
not an article of any description could be obtain-
ed. "What," says Mr. D., "is there no tea,
sugar, or bread in the whole village?" "0 yes,"
replied the maid, "there is plenty of everything
we want, but nobody will sell us an article; they
say we are all witches and wizards and necroman-
cers, and iVs no canny to tak ony o' your moneys
Mr. Davidson and family, in this case, might
have starved, had he not bethought himself of
eniploj'ing the sen'ant of an acquaintance, who
was one of his auditory, to procure, in her mas-
ter's name, the requisite provisions; and this plan
he was obliged to adopt during the remaiiider of
his stay in that place. At another time his
boots required to be repaired; the servant took
them to a shoemaker, and they were received by
one of the female branches of his family; but
when the shoemaker understood to whom they
belonged, he stormed, and was indignant at their
receiving anything from such a dangerous indi-
vidual. The servant soon after returned to in-
quire if the boots were repaired. " Is the aslro-
ioger^s boots mendit?" one of the family vocife-
rated. " No," was the reply, " they are not
mendit, nor do we intend to mend them, or have
anything to do with them." The shoeinaker's
wife desired the servant to come in, and lift the
boots Iierself; "for," said she, "I will not touch
them;" and it appears that both the shoemaker
and his family had been afraid even to put their
fingers upon them, and doubtless imagined that
the very circumstance of their having been re-
ceived into the house would operate as an evil
amen — On the day previous to his leaving that
place, he sent his servant to engage a chaise to
carry tliem to the next town. The servant told
the landlady of the inn (which was t!ie only one
from which a carriage could be procured) that her
master wished to hire a cliaise for to-morrow to

carry them to N . The landlady told her it

could not be granted. "For what reason?" said
tlio maid. ^'You know very well what is the rca-
$on," said the landlady, in a very emphatical tone.
After the servant returned with this reply, Mr.
Davidson himself went to the inn, when tlie fol-
lowing dialogue took place between him and the
landlady: — "Well, madam, can you give me a
chaise to-moirow to carry me, to Newry?" "No;
for our horses are very tired, as they have been
out all day, and tliey cannot go to-morrow." "O
dear, madam, is that the only reason? You know
Tery well / can make them ^o." The landlady,

putting on a grave countenance, replied witk em-
|)hasis, " We all know that very well. We knovy
that you could sink the town, it you chose to do it.
But I shall give you (he chaise, to carry you out
of the place, and make the town rid of you; but
it is more for fear of you than love to you that I
consent to grant you my chaise." — Such were
the absurd and superstitious notions prevalent
among the lower class of the Irish in lbi4 or
1815; and these were not the only instances in
which they were manifested, but only sp.cimens
of what frequently occurred in other parts of that
country.

However clearly persons of education and in-
telligence may perceive the absurdity and futility
of the superstitious notions and practices to which
I have now referred, — it is a fact, well known to
those who have been conversant among the lower
orders of society, tiuit they still prevail to a very
considerable extent among the untutored ranks,
even of our own country. Nothing but a more
assiduous cultivation of the rational powers, and
a universal diti'usion of useful knowledge among
tlie inferior classes of society, can be expected
thoroughly to undermine and eradicate such opi-
nions, and to prevent the baneful and pernicious
consequences to which they lead.

No. '\'II. — Circumstances which hace occasional-
ly led to the belief of Specters and Apparitions.
P. 2U.

It is certain, that indistinct vision and optical
illusions have, in many instances, been the soiirces
of terror, and have produced a belief of super-
natural appearances. When we have no other
mode of judging of an unknown object but by
the angle it forms in the eye, its magnitude will
unifornrly increase in proportion to its nearness.
If it appears, wlien at the distance of forty or
fifty paces, to be only a few feet high, its hight,
when within three or four feet of the eye, will
appear to be above forty times greater, or many
fathoms in dimension. An object of tliis kind,
must naturally excite terror and astonishment in
the spectator, until he approaches and recognizes
it by actual feeling; for the moment a man
knows an object, tlie gigantic appearance it as-
sumed in the eye, instantly diminishes, and its
apparent magnitude is reduced to its real dimen-
sions. But if, instead of approaching such an ob-
ject, the spectator flies from it, he can liave no
other idea of it, but from the image which it
formed in the eye; and in this case, lie may af-
firm with truth, that he saw an object terrilile in
its aspect, and enormous in its size. Such illu-
sions frequently occur, when persons are walking
tlirough desert and unfrequented tracts of coun-
try, surrounded with a fog, or in the dusk of the
evening, when a solitary tree, a bush, an old wall,
a cairn of stones, a sheep or a cow, may appear
as phantoms of a monstrous size. The writer
of an article in the "Encyclopaedia Britannica,"
states, that "he was passing the Frith of Forth
at Queensferry, one morning whicli was extreme-
ly foggy. Though the water is only two miles
broad the boat did not get within sight of the
southern shore, until it approached very near it;
he then saw to his great surprise, a large perpen-
dicular rock, where he knew the shore was low
and almost flat. As the boat advanced a little
nearer, the rock seemed to split perpendicularly
into portions, which separated at little distances
from one another; he next saw these perpendicu-
lar divisions move, and upon ap|)roaciiing a little
nearer, found it was a number of people sfcmd-

140

APPENDIX.

lug on the beach, waiting the arrival of tlie ferry
boat."

Specters are frequently occasioned by opium. —
Gasseiiui, the jjliilosopher, found a iuuiil)i'r of
people goiiifj to put a inaa to death for having in-
tercourse will) the devil, a crime wliich the poor
Wretch readily acknowledged. Gass.indi begged
of the people, that they would penult him first to
e.xamine the wizard, before putting hiin to death.
They did so, and Gassendi, upon e.\amiuation,
found, that t!ie man firmly believed hfuiself guilty
of this impossible crime; he even offered to Gas-
sendi to introduce him to the devLI. The philo-
sopher agreed, and when midnight came, the man
gave him a pill, which he said it was necessary to
swallow before setting otF. GassenJi took the
pill, but gave it to his dog: The man having
swallowed his, fell into a profound sleep, during
which h-e seemed much agitated by dreims; the
dog was affected in a similar manner. When the
man awoke he congratulated Gassen.li on the fa-
vorable reception he had met with from his sable
highness. It was with difficulty Gassendi con-
vinced him that the whole was a dream, the ef-
fect of soporific medicines, and that he had never
stirred from one spot during tlie whole night.

DrunketDiess has also the power of creatinj appa-
ritions. Drunkenness seLioni or never excites
fear; and, therefore, it maj^ at first sight seem
strange, that persons should imagine they see
ghosts when under the influence of intoxication.
But it is observable, that the ghosts which the
drunkard imagines he sees, he beholds not with
the same terror and alarm, as men that are sober;
he is not afraid of them; he has the courage to
converse with them, and even to fight them, if
they give him provocation. Like Barns' " Tam
o'Shanter," give him "fair play — he cares na'
de'ils a bodle." A man returning home intoxi-
cated, affirmed, that he had met with the devil;
and that, after a severe encounter, he had van-
quished him, and brought him to the ground, to
which he had nailed him fast, by driving his
staff through his body. Next morning, the staff
was found stuck with great violence into a heap
of turfs!

D reams may be considered as anotlter source of
apparitions. While the mind is under the influ-
ence of a dream, it considers it as much a reality,
as it does any particular action when awake; and,
therefore, if a person of a weak superstitious
mind should have a very lively dream wliich in-
terests his passions, it may make so deep an im-
pression, that he may be frnnly convinced he has
actually seen with his eyes, what has only passed
before his imagination; especially when we con-
sider, that there are times of slumber when we
are not sensible of being asleep. On this prin-
ciple, some have endeavored to account for the
specter which is said to have appsaretl to Brutus.
It is related, that at Philippi, the night before he
gave battle to Augustus Caesar, he saw a fearful
apparition; it was in the dead of night, when the
whole camp was perfectly quiet, that Brutus was
employed in his tent, in reading by a lamp that
was just expiring; on a sudden he thought he
heard a noise as if somebody entered, and look-
ing toward the door, he perceived it open; a gi-
gantic figure with a frightful aspect, stood before
him, and continued to gaze upon him with silent
eeverit}^ At last, Brutus had courage to speak
to it: "Art thou a demon or a mortal man? and
why comest thou to me?" The phantom is said
to have replied, " Brutus, I am thy evil genius,
thou shalt see me again at Piiilippi." " Well
then," answered Brutus, without being discom-

posed, "we shall meet again;" upon wlich th«

phantom vanished, and Brutus, calling to his ser-
vants, a.-^ked them if they had seen anything; to
which replying in the negative, he again resumed
his studies. This circumstance is related by his-
torians as a vision, but considering the circum-
stances, one may easily judge it to have been but
a short dream; for, sitting in his tent, pensive and
troubled with the horror of his late rash act, it
was not hard for him, slumbering in the cold, to
dream of that which most aftrighted him; which
fear, as by degrees it made him awake, so it must
have made the apparition by degrees to vanish;
and having no assurance that he slept, he could
have no cause to think it a dream, or anything
else than a. vision. Whatever may be said as to
this solution of the case, certain it is, that vivid
dreanis in certain states of mind, have been mis-
taken for real apparitions, of which various in-
stances could be adduced, did our limits permit

Fear is another fertile source of Specters. As
partial darkness and obscurity are the most com-
mon circumstances by which the sight is deceiv-
ed, so night is the season in which apparitions
are most frequently said to be seen. I'he state
of the mind at that time, especially when a person
is alone, prepares it for the admission of such de-
lusions of the imagination. The fear and cau-
tion which night naturally inspires, the opportu-
nity it affords for ambuscades, robberies, and
assassinations, the deprivation of social inter-
course, and the interruption of many pleasing
trains of ideas which objects in the light never
fail to produce, are all circumstances of terror,
and favorable to the illusions of a timid imagina-
tion; and therefore, it is by no means strange,
that an ignorant person with a mind uncultivated
and uninformed, and with all the prejudices of
tlie nursery about him, should imagine he sees
ghosts in those places where he believes they hover,
especially at the hour of midnight, when the
slightest aid of the imagination can transform a
cow into a monstrous phantom, and the reflection
of the beams of the moon from a little water into
a ghost with a winding-sheet; or a sound which
is near, such as the rustling of the leaves of a tree,
the noise of falling waters, or the screams of ani-
mals, when referred to a great distance, may bo
magnified into horrid and unearthly voices; for,
in such cases, a timid and untutored mind seldom
stops to inquire into the cause of its alarms. —
The celebrated historian De Thou, had a very
singular adventure at Saumur, in the year 1598,
which shows the happy effects of a calm inquiry
into the cause of any alarming or extraordinary
appearance. One night, having retired to rest
very much fatigued, while he was enjoying a
sound sleep, he felt a very extraordinary weight
upon his feet, which, luving made him turn sud-
denly, fell down and awakened him. At first he
imagined that it had been only a dream, but hear-
ing soon after some noise in his chamber, ho drew
aside the curtains, and saw, by the help of the
moon, which at that time shone very bright, a
large white figure walking up and down, and at
the same time observed upon a chair some rags,
which he thought belonged to thieves who liad
come to rob him. The figure then approaching
his bed, he had the courage to ask it v;liat it was.
" I am (said the figure) the Queen of Heaven."
Had such a figure appeared to any credulous ig-
norant man, he would, doubtless, have trembled
with feai", and frightened the wliole neighborhood
with a marvelous description of it. But De
Thou had too much understanding to be so im-
posed upon. On hearing the words wliich drop-

CAUSES OF APPARITIONS.

141

ped f 'vm the figure, he immediaitely concluded
that It was some mad woman, got up, called his
bervants, and ordered them to turn lier out of
doors; aft^r which he returned to bed and fell
asleep. Next morning, he found tliat he h:id not
been deceived in his conjecture, and" that having
forgot to shut his door, tliis female figure had es-
caped from her keepers, and entered his apart-
ment. The brave Schomberg, to whom De Thou
related his adventure some days after, confessed
that in such a casj he would not have shown so
much courage. Tlie king, likewise, who was in-
formerl of it hj' Schomberg, made the same ac-
knowledgment.— See Enc)^ Brit., Art. Specter.

The following relation contains a description
of an apparition of a different kind, no less ap-
palling. Mr. Schmidt, mMthornatical teacher at
the school of Pforte, near Nauinburg, which had
foniiorly been a cloister, once happened to awake
suddenly as the moriung began to dawn. On
opening his eyes, he beheld with astonishment a
monk standing at the foot of his bed. Looking
at him steadfastly, he appeared to be well-fed;
and his head, far from small, was sunk a little
between a pair- of very broad siioulders. Tlie
chambar was sufliciently secured; Mr. Schmidt
alone slept in it; and he was very certain that
no one would attempt to put a trick upon him in
jest. He knew also, tliat no part of his clothes
or anything else was hanghig at his bed's foot.
The figure exactlj' resembled that of a monk,
clothed in a white surplice, the falling folds of
which were very clearly to be distinguished. Had
an ignorant and timid man beheld this appear-
ance, he would probably have covered himself up
with the bed-clothes, and firmly maintained that
the ghost of a monk had appeared to him. As
the school had formerl}' been a cloister, many
monks had been buried both in the church and
church-ye.rd, and it was currently reported among
the vulgar that the place was haunted. Mr.
Schmidt, however, was neither ignorant nor timid,
and he immediately conjectured that his eyes
were deceived, though he could not imagine in
what manner. He raised himself up a little in
his bed, but the apparition did not move, he only
saw somewhat more of it, and the folds of the
surplice were still more conspicuous. After a
little while he moved toward the right, yet the
apparition remained, and he seemed to have in
part a side view of it; but as soon as he had
moved his head so far as to have a slight glimpse
of the bed's foot, the ai)parJtion retreated back-
ward, though still with its face to the bed. Fol-
lowing tlie apparition quickly with his eyes, it re-
treated with speed, sweU;'d as it retreated to a
gigantic form, a rustling noise was heard, and

at once the apparition was changed into

the gothic window with white curtains v.diich was
opposite the bed's foot, and about six or seven
feet distance from it. Several times after this
Mr. Schmidt endeavored when he awoke to see
the same appearance, but to no purpose, the v.'in-
dow always looking like a window only. Some
weeks after, however, on awakening, as the day
began to dawn, he again perceived the monk's
apparition at the bed's foot. Being novi' aware
what occasioned it, he examined it narrowly. —
The great arch of the window formed the monk's
shoulders, a smaller arch, in the center of this,
his head, and the curtains the surplice. The
folds of these appeared much stronger than they
did at ths same distance by daylight. Thus th-'
figure of the monk appeared plainer, nearer, and
Bmaller, than the window would have done. This
apparition, therefore, like hundreds of others, %vas

merely an optical deception. The reader will
find a more particular description of it, with ai-
optical aud mathematical explanation of the phe-
nomrfii6n, in vol. i. of " The Pleasing Preceptor,"
translated "from the German of Gerhard Ulrich
Anthony Vieth.

Another cause of apparitions, and of the belief
in supernatural appearances, is to be found in the
artificer and collusions of impostors, and the tricks
of the wayyirji. Dr. Plot, in his Natural History
of Oxfordshire, relates a mai-velous story which
will illustrate this position. Soon alter the mur-
d'^r of King Charles I, a commission was ap-
pointed to survey the King's house at Wood-
stock, with the manor, park, woods, and other
demesnes belonging to that manor. (Jne- Col-
lins, under a feigned name, hired himself as sec-
retary to the commissioners, who upon the 13th
October, 1649, met, and took up their residence iu
the King's own rooms. His majesty's bed-cham-
ber they made their kitchen, the council-hall
their pantry, and the presence-chamber was the
place where they met for the dispatch of busi-
ness. His majesty's dining-room they made their
wood-yard, and stored it with the wood of the
famous royal oak from the High Park, which,
that nothing might be left with the name of King
about it, they had dug up by the roots, and split

and bundled up into fagots for their firing

Things being tlius prepared, they sat on the 16th
for the dispatch of business; and, in the midst of
their first debate, there entered a large hlnck dog
(as they thought) which made a dreadful howl-
ing, overturned two or three of their chairs, and
then crept under a bed and vanished. This gave
them the greater surprise, as the doors were kept
constantly locked, so that no real dog could get in
or out. The next day their surprise was in-
creased, when sitting at dinner in a lower room,
they heard plainly the noise of persons walking
over their heads, though, they well knew the doors
were ail locked, and there could be nobody there.
Presently after they lieard also all the wood of
the King's oak, brought by parcels from the di-
ning-room, and thrown with great violence into
the presence chamber, as also all the chairs, stools,
tables, and other furniture forcibly hurled about
the room; their papers, containing the minutes
of their transactions, were torn, and the ink-glass
broken. When all this noise had ceased, Giles
Sharp, their secretary, proposed to enter first into
these rooms; and in presence of the commis-
sioners, from whom he received the key, he open-
ed the doors, and found the wood spread about
the loom, the chairs tossed about and broken, the
papers torn, but not the least track of any human
creature, nor the least reason to suspi,-ct one, as
the doors were all fast, and the keys in the custo-
dy of the commissioners. It was therefore unani-
mously agreed that the pov/er that did this mis-
chief must have entered at the key-hole. The
night following, Sharp, the secretary, witli two
of the commissioners' servants, as they were in
bed in the same room, which room was contigu-
ous to that where the commissioners lay,, had
their beds' feet lifted up so much higher than
their heads, that they expected to liave their necks
broken, and then they were let fall at once with
so much violence as .shook the whole house, and
more than ever terrified the commissioners. On
the night of the l9th, as they were all in bed in
the same room for greater safety, and lights burn-
ing by them, the candles in an instant went out
with a sulphureous smell, and that monvnt many
trenchers of wood v/ere hurled about tlie room,
which next morning were found to be the same

142

APPENDIX.

their honors had eaten out of the day before,
whicfi Wfre all removed from tlie pantry, tliongh
not a lock was found opened in the wliole house.
The next night tliey fared still worBo; the can-
dles went out as before, the curtains of tiieir hon-
ors' beds were rattled to and fro with great vio-
lence, they received many cruel blows and bruises
by eight great pewter dishes, and a number of
wooden trenchers being thrown on their beds,
whii;li, being heaved off, were heard rolling about
the room, though in the morning none of these
were to be seen.

The next night the keeper of the king's house
and his dog lay in the commissioners' room, and
then they h:id no disturbance. But on the night
of the 22J, though the dog lay in the room as be-
fore, yet the candles went out, a number of brick-
bats fell from the chimney into the room, the dog
howled piteously, their bed-clothes were all strip-
ped off, and their terror increased. On the 24th
they thought all the wood of the king's oak was
violently thrown down by their bed-sides; they
counted 64 billets that fell, and some hit and shook
the beds in which they lay; but in the morning
none was found there, nor had the door been
opened where the billet-wood was kept. The next
night the candles were put out, the curtains rat-
tled, and a dreadful crack like thunder was heard;
and one of the servants running in haste, think-
ing his master was killed, found three dozen of
trenchers laid smoothly under the quilt by him.
But all this was nothing to what succeeded af-
terward. The 29th, about midnight, the candles
went out, something walked majestically through
the room, and opened and shut the windows;
great stones were thrown violently into the room,
some of which fell on the beds, others on the
floor; and at about a quarter after one, a noise
was heard as of forty cannon discharged together,
and again repeated at about eight minutes inter-
val. This alarmed and raised all the neighbor-
hood, who coming into their honor's room, gath-
ered up the great stones, fourscore in number,
and laid them by in the corner of a field, where,
in Dr. Plot's time, they were to be seen. This
noise, like the discharge of cannon, was heard
over the country for several miles round. Dui--
ing tJiese noises the commissioners and their ser-
vants gave one another over for lost and cried out
for help; and Giles Sharp, snatching up a sword,
had well nigh killed one of their honors, mis-
taking him for the spirit, as he came in his shirt
from his own room to theirs. While they were
together the noise was continued, and part of the
tiling of the house was stripped off, and all the
windows of an upper room were taken avvay with
it. On the .30th, at midniglit, something walked
Into the chamber treading like a bear; it walked
.nany times about, then threw the warming pan
violently on the floor; at the same time a large
quantity of broken glass, accompanied with great
Btones and horse bones, came pouring into the
room with uncommon force. On the 1st of No-
vember the most dreadful scene of all ensued.
Candles in every part of the room were lighted
up, and a great fire made; at midnight, the can-
dles all yet burning, a noise like the bursting of a
cannon was heard in the room, and the burning
billets were tossed about by it even into their hon-
or's beds, who called Giles and his companions to
their relief, otherwise the house had been burnt to '
the ground; about an hour after, the candles went
out as usual, the crack as of many cannon was
heard, and many pailsful of green stinking water
were thrown upon their honor's beds, great
ctones were also thrown in aa before, the bed-

I curtains and bedsteads torn and broken, the win*
dows shattered, and the whole neighborhood
I alarmed with the most dreadful noises; nay, the
■ very rabbit-stealers, that were abroad that night
: in the warren, were so terrified, that they fled for
fear, and left their ferrets behind them. One of
j their honors this niglit sjioke, and, in the name of
I God, a^kcd what it was, and why it disturbed them
i so? No answer was given to this; but tho njiso
ceased for a while, when the spirit came again;
and, as thej' all agreed, brouyht with it seven devils
I worse than itself. One of the servants now light-
I ed a large candle, and set it in the doorway be-
I tween the two chambers, to see what passed; and
I as he watched it, he plainly saw a hoof striking
the candle and candlestick into the middle of the
room, and afterward, making three scrapes over
the snuff, scraped it out. Upon this the same
person was so bold as to draw a sword, but he had
scarce got it out when he felt another invisible
hand holding it too, and pulling it from liim, and
at length prevailing, struck him so violently on
the head with the pummel, that he fell down for
dead with the blow. At this instant was heard
another burst like the discharge of the broadside
of a ship of war, and at the interval of a minute
or two between each, no less than 19 such dis-
charges. These shook the house so violently that
they e.xpected every moment it would fall upon
; their heads. The neighbors being all alanned,
flocked to the house in great numbers, and all
joined in prayer and psalm-singing; during which
the noise continued in the other rooms, and the
discharge of cannons was heard as from without,
though no visible agent was seen to discharge
them. But what was the most alarming of all,
and put an end to their proceedings effectually,
happened the next day, as they were all at dinner,
when a paper, in which they had signed a mutual
agreement to resers'e a part of the premises out
of the general survey, and afterward to share it
equally among themselves (which paper they had
hid for the present under the earth in a pot in one
corner of the room, and in which an orange tree
grew), was consumed in a wonderful manner by
the earth's taking fire with which the pot was
filled, and burning violently with a blue flame
and an intolerable stench, so that they were all
driven out of the house, to which they could never
be again prevailed upon to return.

This story has been somewhat abridged from
the Encyclopaedia Britannica, where it is quoted
from Dr. Plot's history. If I recollect right, it is
embodied in the book entitled "Satan's Invisible
World Discovered," and the extraordinary occur-
rences it relates ascribed to Satanic influence. At
the time they happened, they were viewed as the
effects of supernatural powers; and even Dr. Plot
seems disposed to ascribe them to this cause.
"Though many tricks," says the Doctor, "have
been often played in affairs of this kind, many of
the things above related arc not reconcilable with
juggling; such as the loud noises beyond the
powers of man to make without such iastruments
as were not there; the tearing and breaking the
beds; the throv/ing about the fire; the hoof tread-
ing out the candle; and the striving for the sword;
and the blow the man received from the pummel
of it." It was at length ascertained, however, that
this wonderful contrivance was all the invention
of the memorable Joseph Collins, of Oxford, oth-
erwise called Funny Joe, who, having hired him-
self as secretary under the name of Giles Sharp,
by knowing the private traps belonging to the
hou.se, and by the help of Pulvis Fulniinans, and
other chemical preparations, and letting his fellow-

CAUSES OF APPARITIONS.

143

servants into the scheme, carried on the deceit
witlioiit discovery to the very last.

Ventriloquism is another source whence a belief
vf apparitions has been induced. By this art, cer-
Uiin persons can so modil'y their voice as to make
It appear to the audience to proceed from any
distance, and in any direction, and by whicli
impostors have sometimes accomplished their ne-
farious designs, of which the following are in-
Btiuiced.

Louis Braliant, a dexterous ventriloqnist, valet-
de-chambre to Francis I, had fallen desperately in
love with a young, handsome, and rich heiress;
but was rejeeted by the parents as an unsuitable
match for their daughter, on account of the low-
ness of his circumstances. The young lady's
father dying, he made a visit to the widow, who
was tolally ignorant of his singular talent. Sud-
denly, on his first appearance in open day, in her
own house, and in the presence of several per-
sons who were with her, she heard herself accost-
ed in a voice perfectly resembling that of her
dead husband, and which seemed to proceed from
above, exclaiming, "Give my daugliler in mar-
riage to Louis Braliant. He is a man of great
fortune and of an excellent character. I now suf-
fer the inexpressible torments of purgatory for
' having refused her to him. If you obey this ad-
monition I shall soon be delivered from this place
of torment. You will at the same time provide
a wortliy husband for your daughter, and procure
everlasting repose to the soul of your poor hus-
band." The widow could not for a moment re-
sist this dreadful summons, which had not the
most distant appearance of proceeding from Louis
Brahant, whose countenance exhibited no visible
change, and whose lips were close and motionless
during the delivery of it. Accordingly, she con-
sented immediately to receive him for her son-in-
lav. — Louis's finances, however, were in a very
lojv situation, and the formalities attending the
marriage-contract rendered it necessary for him to
exhibit some show of riches, and not to give the
ghost the lie direct He, accordingly, went to
work on a fresh subject, one Cornu, an old and
rich banker at Lyons, who liad accumulated im-
mense wealth by usury and extortion, and was
known to be haunted by remorse of conscience,
on account of the manner in which he had ac-
quired it. Having contracted an intimate ac-
quaintance with this man, he, one day, while they
were sitting together in the usurer's little back
parlor, artfully turned the conversation on relig-
ious subjects, on demons, and specters, the pains of
purgatory, and the torments of hell. During an
interval of silence between them, a voice was
heard, which, to the astonished banker, seemed to
be that of his deceased father, complaining, as in
the former case, of his dreadful situation in purga-
tory, and calling upon him to deliver him instant-
ly from thence, by putting into the hands of Louis
Brahant, then with him, a large sum for the re-
demption of Christians then in slavery with the
Turks; threatening him, at the same time, with
eternal damnation, if he did not take this method
to expiate, likewise, his own sins. Louis Brahant,
of course, affected a due degree of astonishment on
tlie occasion; and further promoted the deception
by acknowledging his having devoted himself to
tiie prosecution of the charitable design imputed
lo him by the ghost. An old usurer is naturally
suspicious. Accordingly, the wary banker made
a second appointment with the ghost's delegate for
the next day: and, to render any design of impos-
ing upon him utterly abortive, took him into the
open fields, where not a house or a tree, or even

a bush, or a pit v/ere in sight, capable of screen-
ing any supposed confederate. Tliis extraordina-
ry caution excited the ventriloquist to exert all
the powers of his art. Wherever the banker con-
ducted him, at every step, his ears were saluted
on all sides with the complaints, and groans, not
only of his father, but of all his deceased rela-
tions, imploring him for the love of God, and in
the name of every saint in the calendar, to have
mercy on his own soul and theirs, by eft'ectually
seconding with his purse the intentions of his
worthy companion. Cornu could no longer re-
sist the voice of heaven, and, accordingly, carried
his guest home with hiin, and paid him down ten
thousand crowns; with which the honest ventrilo-
quist returned to Paris, and married his mistress.
The catastro[)he was fatal. The secret was af-
terward blown, and reached the usurer's ears,
who was so much afl'ected by the loss of hia
money, and the mortifying railleries of his neigh-
bors, that he took to his bed and died.

Another trick of a similar kind was plaj'cd off
about sixty or seventy years ago, on a whole com-
munity, by another P'rench ventriloqnist. " M.
St. Gill, the ventriloquist, and his intimnte friend,
returning home from a place whither his business
had carried him, sought for shelter from an ap-
proaching thunder storm in a neighboring con-
vent. Finding the whole community in mourn-
ing, he inquired the cause, and was told that one
of the body had died lately, who was the ornament
and delight of the whole society. To pass away
the time, he walked into the church, attemJed by
some of the religious, who showed him the tomb
of their deceased brother, and spoke feelingly of
the scanty honors they had bestowed on his mem-
ory. Suddenly a voice was heard, apparently
proceeding from the roof of the choir, lamenting
the situation of the defunct in purgatory, and
reproaching the brotherhood with their luke-
warmness and want of zeal on his account. The
friars, as soon a-s their astonishment gave them
power to speak, consulted together, and agreed to
acquaint the rest of the community with this
singular event, so interesting to the whole society.
M. St. Gill, who wished to carry on the joke a
little farther, dissuaded them from taking this
step, telling them that they would be treated by
their absent brethren as a set of fools and visiona-
ries. He recommended to then), however, the
immediately calling the whole community into
the church, wliere the ghost of their departed
brother might probably reiterate his complaints.
Accordingly, all the friars, novices, lay-brothers,
and even the domestics of the convent, were imme-
diately summoned and called together. In a short
time the voice from the roof renewed its lamen-
tations and reproaches, and the whole convent
fell on their faces, and vowed a solemn reparation.
As a first ste]), they chanted a De prnfundis in a
full choir; during the intervals of which the ghost
occi'.sionally expressed the comfort he received
from their pious exercises and ejaculations on his
behalf. When all was over, the prior entered
into a serious conversation with M. St. Gill ; and
on the strength of what had just passed, saga-
ciously inveighed against the absurd incredulity
of our modern skeptics and pretended pdiiloso-
phers. on the article of ghosts or apparitions. M
St. Gill thought it high time to disabuse the good
fathers. This purpose, however, he found it
extremely difficult to elTect, until he had prevailed
u])on them to return with him into the church,
and there be witnesses of the manner in which he
had conducted this ludicrous deception." Had
not the ventriloquist, in this case, explained the

144 APPENDIX.

causo of lh« deception, a whole body of men
might liave sworn, witli a good conscii.'uce, that
tliey had heard the gliost of a departed brother
address them again and again in a supornatural
voice.

it is highly probable, that many of tlioso per-
sons lenned witclics and necromancers in ancient
times, who pretended to be invested with super-
n;iti.iral powers, performed their deceptions hy the
art of ventriloquism. The term literally means,
speaking from the belly; antf, in accordance with
this idea, we find that the Pythoness, or witch of
EaJor, to whom Saul applied for advice in his
perple.vity, is designated ill the Septn;igint trans-
lation of the Old Testament, "a woman that
speaks from her belly or stomach," as most magi-
cians afFected to do ; and some authors have
informed us, that there were women who had a
demon which spake articulately from the lower
part of tJieir stomachs, in a very loud, though
hoarse tone. UmbrsB cum sagana resonarent
triste et acutum. Hor. Sat. viii, lib. i.

Our English translation "familiar spirit," in
Hebrew, signifies "the spirit of Ob or Oboth.'"
The word Ob, in its primitive sense, denotes a
bottle or vessel of leather, wherein liquors were put;
and, it is not unlikely that tliis name was given
to witches, because, in their fits of enthusiasm,
they swelled in their bellies like a bottle. The
occasion of this swelling is said by some authors
to proceed from a demon's entering into the
sorcerers per partes genitales, and so ascending to
the bottom of her stomach, from v/hence, at that
time, she uttered her p^redictions ; and for tins
reason, the Latins call such persons Ventriloqui,
and the Greeks 'EyycttrTeifjt.bvoi, that is, people wlio
speak out of their billies. Cislius Rhodiginus
(Antiq. lib. 8. c. 10.) says, in reference to such
cases, "While I am writing concerning ventrilo-
quous persons, there is, in ray own country, a
woman of a mean extract, who has an unclean
spirit in her belly, from whence may be heard a
voice, not very strong indeed, but very articulate
and intelligible. Multitudes of people have heard
this voice, as well as myself, and all imaginable pre-
caution has been used in examining into the truth
of this fact:" — "Quando futuri avida portentus
mens, stepe accersitum ventriloquam, ac exutam
amictu, ne quid fraudis occultaret, inspectare et
audire concupivit." The author adds, "This de-
mon is called Cincinnatulus, and when the woman
c.'ill.s upon him by his name, he immediately an-
swers her." — Several ancient writers have inform-
ed us, that in the times of Paganism, evil spirits
had communion witli these ventriloquts per partes
secretiores. Ghrysostom says, — " Traditur Pythia
foemina fuisse, quas In Tripodes sedens expansa
malignum spiritum per interna immissum, et per
geiiitales partes subeuntum excipiens, furore
repleretur, ipsaque resolutis crinibus baccharetur,
ex ore spumam emittons, et sic furoris verba
loquebatur," &c.

S/jfcfcrs have also been produced by such optical
exhibilinns as the phantasmagoria. By means of
this instrument, a specter can be made apparently
to start up from a white mist, and to rush for-
ward toward the spectator with a horrific aspect.
If a thin screen were placed in a dark room, and
the lantern of the phantasmagoria, with its light
properly concealed, the most terrific phantoms
might be exhibited, which would confound and
appal every one previously unacquainted with
the contrivance, especially if the exhibition was
suddenly made at the dead hour of nigiit. By
means of such exhibitions, combined with the art
of ventriloquism, and the assistance of a confede-

rate, almost everything that has been recorded
respecting specters and apparitions might be re-
alized.

I shall conclude these illustrations of appari-
tions, by presenting tlie reader with a description
of the ghost of a Jlva, by Mr. Varley, formerly
alluded to, as a specimen of the folly and super-
stition that still degrade the present age.

"With respect to the vision of the ghost of tlio
flea, as seen by Mr. Blake, it agrees in counte-
nance \\\i\\ one class of people under Gemini,
which sign is the significator of the flea, whose
brown color is appropriate to the color of the
eyes, in some full-toned Gemini persons, and the
neatness, elasticity, and tenseness of llie flea, are
significant of the elegant dancing and ftmcing
sign Gemini. The spirit visited his imagination
in such a figure as he never anticipated in an
insect. As 1 was anxious to make the most cor-
rect investigation in my power of the truth of
thetic visions, on hearing of this spiritual appari-
tion of a flea, I asked him if he could draw for me
the resemblance of what he saw. He instantly
said, 'I see him now before me.' I therefore
gave him paper and a pencil with which he drew
the portrait, of which a fac-simile is given in this
number. I felt convinced by his mode of pro-
ceeding, that he had a real image before him; for
he left off and began on another part of the paper,
to make a separate drawing of the mootli of the
flea, which the spirit having opened, he was pre-
vented from proceeding with the first sketch, until
he liad closed it. During the time occupied in com-
pleting the drawing, the flea told him that all fleas
were inhabited by the souls of such rnen as were
by nature blood-thirsty to excess, and were, there-
fore, providentially confined to the size and form
of such insects; otherwise, were he himself, for
instance, the size of a horse, he would depopulate
a great part of the country. He added, that, ' if
in attempting to leap from one island to another,
he should fall into the sea, he could swim, and
could not be lost.' This spirit, afterward ap-
peared to Blake, and afforded him a view of his
whole figure, an engraving of which I shall give
in this work."

N. B. — Blake, who died only two or three yezirs
ago, was an ingenious artist, who illustrated Blair's
Grave, and other works, and was so much of an
enthusiast, that he imagined he could call up from
the vasty deep, any spirits or corporeal forms.
Were it not a fact, that a work entitled "ZodiacaJ
Physiognom}'," written by John Parley, and
illustrated with engravings, was actually pub-
lished in the year 1828, by Longman and Co., we
should have deemed it almost impossible, that
amidst the light of the present age, any man
capable of writing a grammatical sentence, would
seriously give such a description as that quoted
above, and attach his belief to such absurdity and
nonsense. But amidst all our boasted scientific
improvements and discoveries, it appears, that the
clouds of ignorance and superstition still hang
over a large body of our population, and that the
light of the millennial era, if it have yet dawned,
is still far from its meridian splendor.

After what has been now stated respecting the
circumstances which may have led to the popular
belief of specters and apparitions, it would be
almost needless to spend time in illustrating the
futility of such a belief. There is one strong
objection against the probability of apparitions,
and that is, — that they scarcely appear to be in-

EXPLOSION OF STEAM ENGINES.

145

telligent creatures, or at least, that they possess so
small a degree of iiUeiligeiice that they are un-
qualifii-'d to act with prudence, or to use the means
requisite to accuinpiish an end. Ghosts are said
often to appear in order to discover some crime
that had ix-en committed; hut they never appear
to a magistrate, or some person of authority and
intelligence, hut to some illiterate clown, who
happens to live near the place wiiere the crime
was cominitti'd, to some person who has no con-
nection at till with the affair, and wlio,in general,
is the most improper person in tlie world for ma-
king the discovery. Glanville, who wrote in de-
fense of witchcraft and apparitions, relates, for
instance, the following story: "James Haddock,
a farmer, was married to Elenor Welsh, hy whom
he had a son. After the death of Haddock, his
wife married one Davis; and both agreed to de-
fraud the son by the former marriage, of a lease
bequeathed to him by his father. Upon this the
ghost of Haddock appeared to one t'rancis Ta-
verner, the servant of Lord Chichester, and desi-
red him to go to Elenor Welsh, and to inform her
that it was the will of her former husband that
their son should enjoy the lease. Taverner did
not at first execute this commission, but he was
continually haunted by the apparition in the most
hideous shapes, which even threatened totear him
in pieces, until at last he delivered tlie message."
Now, had this specter possessed the least common
sense, it would have appeared first to Elenor
Welsh, and her husband Davis, and frightened
them into compliance at once, and not have kept
poor Taverner, who had no concern in the matter,
in such constant disquietude and alarm.

Another odd circumstance respecting appari-
tions, is, that they have no power to speak, until they
are addressed. In Glanville's relations, we read
,of an old woman, that appeared offeu to David
Hunter, a neat-herd, at the house of the Bishop
of Down. Whenever she appeared, he found
himself obliged to follow her; and, for three quar-
ters of a year, poor David spent the whole of al-
most every night in scampering up and down
through the woods after this old woman. How
long this extraordinary employment might have
continued, it is impossible to guess, had not
David's violent fatigue made him one night ex-
claim, "Lord bless me! — would I v/ere dead I —
shall I never be delivered from this misery?" On
which the phantom replied, "Lord bless me too!
— It was happy you spoke first, for until then I
had no power to speak, though I have followed
you so long!" Then she gave him a message to
her two sons, though David told her he remem-
bered nothing about her. David, it seems, ne-
glected to deliver the message, at which the old
beldam was so much provoked, that she returned
and hit him a hearty blow on the shoulder, v/hich
made him cry out and then speak to her. Now,
if she could not speak until David addressed her,
why might she not have applied this oratorial
medicine, the first time she appeared to him? It
would have saved both herself and him many a
weary journey, and certainly David would much
rather have had half a dozen blows from her
choppy fists, than liave wanted so many nights'
sleep. To complete the story, it must be added,
that wlien David's wife found it impossible to
keep him from following the troublesome visitor,
she trudged after him, but was never gratified
with a sight of the enchantress. — See Ency. Brit.,
Art. Specter.

What imaginable purpose can be served by
such dumb specters that cannot speak until they
are addressed, or by sending apparitions from the

YoL. I— 10

invisible world that appear rtestitute of common
sense? It is remarked by Glaxville, that ghosts
are generally verj' eager to be gone; and, indeed,
they are frequently so.mucli so, that like children
and thoughtle.ss fools, they do not stay to tell their
errand. It appears altogether inconsistent with
any rational or scriptural ideas of the overruling
providence of the Almighty, to suppose that such
beings would be selected for administering the af-
fairs of his kingdom, and for maintaining an in-
tercourse between the visible and invisible worlds.
It is also stated to be one peculiarity of specters
that they appear only in the night. But if they are
sent to this sublunary region on affairs of impor-
tance, why should they be afraid of the light of
the sun? In tlie light of day their message would
be delivered with as much ease, and with more
chance of success. As it would excite less fear,
it would be li^itened to with more calmness and
attention; and were the}' to exhibit themselves
before a number of intelligent witnesses in the full
blaze of day, the purposes for which they were
sent would be more speedily and securely accom-
plished. The celestial messengers whose visits
are recorded in Scripture, appeared most fre-
quently during the light of day, and communi-
cated their messages, in many instances, to a
number of individuals at once — messages, which
were of the utmost importance to the individuals
addressed, and even to mankind at large. To give
credit, therefore, to the popular stories respecting
ghosts and apparitions, embodies in it a reflection
on the character of the Ail-wise Ruler of the
world, and a libel on the administrations of hia
moral government.

No. VIIL-

■Explosions of Steam-Engines.
Pp. 27-62.

As steam-engines are now applied to the pur-
pose of impelling vessels along seas and rivers, as
well as to many important manufacturing proces-
ses, and are capable of still more extensive appli-
cations, and of higher improvements than they
have yet attained — it is of the utmost importance
that every circumstance should be carefully
guarded against, which has the remotest tend-
ency to endanger the bursting of the boiler, — and
that no person be intrusted with the direction of
such engines who is not distinguished for pru-
dence and caution, or who is unacquainted with
their construction and the principle of tlu ir oper-
ation. For, to ignorance ai;d imprudence are to ■
be ascribed many of those accidents which have
happened from tlie bursting of the boilers of these
engines. This remark is strikingly illustrated by
the following and many other tragical occur-
rences:—

In the month of August 1815, the following
melancholy accident happened at Alessrs. Nesham
and Go's colliery at Newbottle. The proprietors
had formed a powerful locomotive steam-engine •
for the purpose of drawing ten or twelve coal '
wagons to the staith at one time: and on the day
it was to be put in motion, a great number of per-
sons belonging to the colliery collected to see it;
but, unfortunately, just as it was going off, the •
boiler of the machine burst. The engine-mau
was dashed to pieces, and his mangled remains
blown 114 yards. The top of the boiler, nine feet
square, weighing nineteen hundred weight, was
blown 100 yards, and the two cyl'^ders 90 yards.
A little boy was also thrown to a great distance.
By this accident ffty-seven persons were killed
and wounded, of whom eleven died on Sunday
night; several remaining daugerously_ ill. Tb©.^

146

APPENDIX.

cause cf the accident is accounted for as follows :
— The engine-man s;iid, '^ As there are several
owners and viewers here, I will make her (tlie en-
gine) ffo in grand style;" and lie hud scarcely got
up»n the boiler to loose the screw of the safety
valvo, but, being over-heated, it exploded. —
Monthly Magazine, vol. 40, p. 181.

From what is hero stated, it appears, that this
tragical accident was occasioned by a combination
of vanity, ignorance, and imprudence in the per-
son to wiiom the direction of the engine was com-
mitted.— The following accident, wiiich happened
to the Washington steam-buat, belonging to Wheel-
ing, N. America, is attributed to a somewhat simi-
lar cause.

"Tliis boat started from Wheeling on Monday,
June lOth, 1816, and arrived at Marietta on Tues-
day evening at 7 o'clock, and came safely to an-
chor, where she remained until Wednesday morn-
ing. The fires had been kindled and the boilers
sulficiently hot, preparatory to her departure,
when the anchor was weighed and the helm put
to larboard, in order to wear her in a position to
8tart her machinery; but only having one of her
rudders shipped at the time, its influence was not
sufficient to have the desired eifect, and she im-
mediately shot over under the Virginia shore,
where it was found expedient to throw over the
kedge at the stern to effect it. This being accom-
plished, the crew were then required to haul it on
board, and were nearly all collected in the quarter
for that purpose. At this unhappy fatal mo-
ment, the end of the cylinder toward the stern ex-
ploded, and threw the whole contents of hot water
among them, and spread death and torture in every
direction. The captain, mate, and several seamen
were knocked overboard, but were saved, with
the exception of one man, by boats from the town,
and by swimming to the shore. The whole town
was alarmed by the explosion, and all the physi-
cians, with a number of citizens, went immedi-
ately to their relief. On going on board, a melan-
choly and truly horrible scene was presented to
view. Six or eight persons were nearly skinned
from head to foot, and others scalded, making in
the whole, seventeen. In stripping off their
clothes the skin peeled off with them to a con-
siderable depth. Added to this melancholy sight,
the ears of the pitying spectators were pierced by
the screams and groans of the agonizing sufferers,
rendering the scene horrible beyond description.

" The cause of this melancholy catastrophe
may be accounted for by the cylinder not having
vent through the safety valve, which was firmly
stopped by the weight which hung on the lever
having been unfortunately slipped to its extreme,
without its being noticed, and the length of time
occupied in wearing before her machinery could
be set in motion, whereby the force of the steam
would have been expended ; these two causes
united, confined the steam until the strength of
the cylinders could no longer contain it, and gave
way with great violence. Six of the unfortunate
sufferers died on Wednesday night, and one or
two others are not expected to surv've." — Louisi-
ana Gazette and New Orleans Mercantile Adver-
tiser, July 8th, 1816.

Since the above accidents happened, many
others of a similar nature have occurred, which
have ultimately been ascertained to have been
owing cither to ignorance, or to carelessness and
inattention, which are the natural results of igno-
rance. As steam-boats are now navigating all
our Friths and rivers, and even plowing the ocean
itself ; and as steam carriages are likely soon to
come into general use foi the conveyance of pas-

sengers and goods, it is of the utmost importance
to their success, and to the safety of the public,
thi»t every precaution be adopted to prevent those
ex])losions, and disarrangements of the machinery,
which might be attended with fatal effects. But,
although science and art may accomplish all that
seems requisite for the prevention of danger,
unless persons of j)rudence and intelligence b«
obtained for the superintendence and direction of
such machines, the efforts of their projectors te
prevent accidents may prove abortive. And until
the tone of intellect, among the middling and
lower orders, be somewhat more elevated than it
is at present, it may be difficult to obtain [jersons
for this purpose of the requisite qualifications.

The following recent accidents from steam-
boat explosions, in all probability originated from
causes shnilar to those to which I have now al-
luded.

The boiler of the steam-boat Caledonia, plying
on the Mississippi, exploded on the 11th April
18.30, killing and wounding about fifteen of the
passengers and seven of the crew, — seven or eight
of whom were blown overboard and lost. It was
expected that some of the wounded would recover,
although badly scalded. The boiler burst in the
side while the boat was under weigh, and about
two hours after being wooded. There were on
board about 400 deck, and sixty cabin passengers,
beside the crew, being altogether about 500 souls.
The hull of the boat was uninjured. It is said
that the accident arose from the passengers
crowding to one side of the boat, by which ona
side of the boiler was exposed to the direct action
of the fire, and when the boat righted, a quantity
of steam was suddenly generated greater than the
safety valve could carry off. — The number of per-
sons who have lost their lives by explosions in
America, since the commencement of the season
(1830), is not much short of one hundred, — sixty
in the' Helen Macgregor, four in the Huntress,
nine in the Justice Marshall, and fourteen in the
Caledonia, beside those of the latter, who, it was
feared, would not recover from tlie injuries they
had sustained.

In these and other instances, it is more than
probable, that a want of attention to the natural
laws of the universe, and to the obvious effects
wliich an enlightened mind should foresee they
would produce, was the chief cause of the destruc-
tion of so many human beings, and of tJie suf-
ferings of those whose lives were preserved.
The same remark may be applied to the circum-
stances connected with a late fatal accident
which happened on the Liverpool and Manchester
rail-road.

On Friday afternoon, February 1, 183.3, as the
second-class train, which leaves Liverpool at three
o'clock, was proceeding over Parr Moss, a little
on the other side of Newton, one of the tubes
which passes longitudinally through the boiler,
burst. The consequence was, that a quantify of
water fell into the fire, steam was generated in
abundance, and the engine stopped. Several of
the passengers alighted to see what was the mat-
ter, and they incautiously got upon the line of rail*
way taken by the trains in going to Liverpool,—
the contrary to that on which the disabled engine
stood. While they were in this situation, a tr«in
of wagons from Bolton, proceeding to Liverpool,
came up. The persons who had alighted djd not
see the advancing train, being enveloped in a dense
cloud of vapor; and, from the same cause, they
were by the conductor also unseen. They accord-
ingly came upon them with fearful violence, sev-
eral were knocked down, and the wheels of tb«

INVENTION OF THE SAFETY LAMP.

147

train passed over four of them. Three of the un-
fortunate party were killed upon the spot; their
bodies being dreadfully crushed; the fourth sur-
vived, and was taken forward to the infirmary,
but his recovery was considered hopeless. Two
of the three killed were elderly persons, whose
names were unknown; the third, an interesting
young man, who had formerly been in the employ
of the Company as a fireman, and who was mar-
ried only three weeks before. The survivor was
a boy about sixteen years of age who was proceed-
ing from Belfast to Halifax, where hia parents
reside. — The casualty which was the occasion of
this serious result, was itself but trifling, as the train
went forward to Manchester after a short delay.

This shocking catastrophe was evidently caused
by rasliness and imprudence — by not foreseeing
what might probably arise from a certain combi-
nation of circumsfcmces — or, in other words, by
, inattention to certain natural laws, both on the
part of those who were connected with the Liver-
pool train of wagons, and of those who conducted
the Bolton train. In regard to the passengers in
the Liverpool train, it was higl)ly improper that
they should have left their seats on the carriage.
The accident which befell the unfortunate Mr.
Huskisson, at the opening of the rail-way, should
have operated as an impressive warning against
such a practice. In the next place, it was most
imprudent to venture upon the other line of rail-
way, more especially when a cloud of steam pre-
vented them from seeing what was passing around
them. — In regard to the person who had the com-
mand of the Bolton train, it was incautious and
imprudent in the highest degree, to urge his ma-
chinery forward, when he beheld a volume of
•moke immediately before him; the least conside-
ration must have convinced him, that some acci-
dent must have happened, and that the cloud of
■team would prevent thoae enveloped in it from
perceiving the approach of his vehicle; and, there-
fore, he ought immediately to have abated his
speed, so as to have acquired a complete command
of the engine by the time it arrived at the spot
where the steam was floating. Hence the impor-
tance— in conducting steam-engines and other
departments of machinery — of having as super-
intendents, men of prudence and of enlightened
minds, capable of foreseeing the probable effects
of every combination of circumstances that may
happen to occur. For I'jnorance is generally
proud, obstinate, incautious, precipitate in its
movements, and regardless of consequences; so
that, through its heedlessness and folly, the most
splendid inventions are often impeded in their
progress, and their value and utility called in
question.

The Liverpool and Manchester Rail-way, and
the locomotive powers of the machinery and en-
gines which move along it, constitute one of the
most splendid and useful improvements of modern
.imes. From the last half-yearly Report of the
Directors, from June 30 to December 31, 1832, it
is satisfactorily proved, that this rail-way is com-
pletely elBcient and applicable to all the great
objects for which it was designed. During the
period now specified, there were carried along the
lail-way 86,842 tons goods, 39,940 tons coals, and
182,823 passengers, which is 73,498 fewer than in
the corresponding six months of 1831, owing to
the prevalence of cholera in Dublin, and in the
towns of Manchester and Liverpool. Were this
rail-way continued to London, it is calculated,
that the journey from Liverpool to the Metropolis,
a distance of more than 200 miles, might bo per-
formed in eight or ten hours.

No. IX. — Circumstances which led to the invention
of tlie Safety Lamp. Pp. 23-65.

This lamp, by means of which hundreds of
lives have been preserved, was invented in the
autumn of 1815. Sir Humphrey Davy, the in-
ventor, was led to the consideration of this subject,
by an application from Dr. Gray, now Bishop of
Bristol, the chairman of a society established in
1813, at Bishop-Wearmouth, to consider and pro-
mote the means of preventing accidents by fire in
coal-pits. Being then in Scotland, he visited the
mines on his return southward, and was supplied
with specimens of fire-damp, which, on reaciiing
London, he proceeded to examine and analyze.
He soon discovered that the carbureted hydrogen
gas, called fire-damp by the miners, would not
explode when mixed with less than six, or more
than fourteen times its volume of air; and, further,
that the explosive mixture could not be fired in
tubes of small diameters and proportionate lengths.
Gradually diminishing these, he arrived at tlia
conclusion, that a tissue of wire in which the
meshes do not exceed a certain small diameter,
which may be considered as the ultimate limit of
a series of such tubes, is impervious to the in-
flamed air; and that a lamp covered with such
tissue may be used with perfect safety, even in an
explosive mixture, which takes fire and burns
within the cage, securely cut off from the power
of doing harm. Thus, when the atmosphere is
so impure that the flame of a lamp itself cannot
be maintained, the Davy still supplies light to the
miner, and turns his worst enemy into an obedi-
ent servant. This invention, the certain source
of large profit, he presented with characteristic
liberality to the public. The words are preserved
in which, when pressed to secure to himself the
benefit of a patent, he declined to do so, in con-
formity with the high-minded resolution which
he formed, upon acquiring independent wealth,
of never making his scientific eminence subser-
vient to gain. "I have enough for all my views
and purposes, more wealth might be troublesome,
and distract my attention from those pursuits in
which I delight. More wealth could not increase
my fame or happiness. It might undoubtedly
enable me to put four horses to my carriage, but
what would it avail me to have it said, that Sir
Humphrey drives his carriage and four?"

Gallery of Portraits.

No. X. — On the TJtility of the Remarks and Observa-
tions of Mechanics and Manufacturers. P. 65.

That the remarks of experienced artists and la-
borers, may frequently lead to useful discoveries,
may be illustrated by the following facts: — " A
soap manufacturer remarked that the residuum
of his lej', when exhausted of the alkali for which
he emploj'e.l it, produced a corrosion of his cop-
per boiler for which he could not account. He
put it into the hands of a scientific chemist for
analysis, and the result was the discovery of one
of the most singular and important chemical ele-
ments, iodine. The properties of this, Seing stu-
died, were found to occur most appositely in il-
lustration and support of a variety of new, cu/ious,
and instructive views, then gaining ground in
chemistry, and thus exercised a marked influence
over the whole body of that science. Curiosity
was excited; the origin of the new substance was
traced to the sea-plants from whose ashes the
principal ingredient of soap is obtained, and ulti-
mately to the sea-water itself. It was thence
hunted through nature, discovered in salt mine*

148

APPENDDC.

and spriiifrs, and pursued into all bodies which
have a marine origin; among the rest, into sponge.
A medical praclitioner then culled to mind a re-
puted remedy for the cure of one of the most
grievous and unsightly disorders to wliich the
human sjiecies is subject — the goiter — which in-
fests the inhabitants of mountainous districts to
an extent wliich in this favored land we have
boppily no experience of, and which was said to
nave been originally cured by the ashes of burnt
sponge. Led by this indication, he tried the ef-
fect of iodine on that complaint, and the result
established the extraordinary fact, ^hat this sin-
gular substance, taken as a medicine, acts with
the utmost promptitude and energy on goiter, dis-
fiipating the largest and most invete.rate in a short
time, and acting (of course with occasional fail-
ures, like all other medicines) as a specific or na-
tural antagonist, against that odious deformity.
It is thus tliat any accession to our knowledge of
nature is sure, sooner or later, to make itself felt
in some practical application, and that a benefit
conferred on science, by the casual obsei-vation
or shrewd remark of even an unscientific or illite-
rate person, infaUibly repays itself with interest,
though often in a way that could never have been
at first contemplated." *

Iodine was acckJentalhj discovered (as above
stated) in 1812, by M. De Courtois, a manufac-
turer of saltpeter at Paris, and derived its first
illustrations from M. Clement and M. Desormes.
Its name literally signifies a violet color. Its spe-
cific gravity is about 4. It becomes a violet-
colored gas at a temperature below that of boiling
water; it combines with the metals, with phos-
phorus and sulphur, with the alkalis and metallic
oxides, and forms a detonating compound with
ammonia. Dr. Coindet of Geneva first recom-
mended the use of it, in the form of tincture, for
tlie cure of goiters. Some readers may perhaps
require to be informed that the goiter is a large
fleshy excrescence that grows from the throat,
and sometimes increases to an enormous size.
The inhabitants of certain parts of Switzerland,
especially those in the republic of Valais, are
particularly subject to this shocking deformity.

No. XI. — Liberality of Religious Sectaries in Amer-
ica, contrasted with British bigotry. P. 19.

The following sketches are taken from Stuart's
"Three Years in North America." When at
Avon, a village in the north-west part of the State
of New York, Mr. Stuart went to attend a church
about a mile distant, of which he gives the follow-
ing description. — " The horses and carriages were
tied up in great sheds near the church-doors, dur-
ing the time of service. The day was hot, and
the precentor, as usual, in the center of the front
gallery, opposite to the minister, officiated, not
only without a gown, but without a coat upon
bis back. There was some sort of instrumentyl
mus'c — hautboys and bassoons, I think, against
which there are no prejudices in this country.
The clergyman, a very unaffected, sinc'^re-look-
ing person, delivered a plain sensible discourse,
in which he introduced the names of Dr. Erskine
and Dr. Chalmers, which sounded strange to us,
considering where we were, on the western side
of llie Atlantic, not very far from the falls of Ni-
agara. At the close of his sermon, he addressed
his hearers in some such terms as these, — ' My
friends, the sacrament of the Lord's supper is to
be dispeussd here this evening. This is a free

• Herichel's Prelim. Disconrse to Nat. I'hil.

church, open to all — Presbyterians, Methodists,
Baptists, and all other denominations of Christians.
This is according to our belief. All are invited;
the risk is theirs.' Such liberality is, we find en
inquiry, not unusual among the clergymen and
congregations of different sects, with the excep-
tion in general of Unitarians. I observe an ex-
ample recorded in Hosack's Life of Clinton; and
as it relates to the great Father of the United
States, and is of unquestionable authority, I think
it of suificient interest for insertion. 'While the
American army, under the command of Wash-
ington, lay encamped in the vicinity of Morris-
town, New-Jersey, it occurred that the service
of the communion (then observed semi-annually
only) was to be administered to the Presbyterian
church in that village. In a morning of the pre-
vious week, the General, after liis accustomed
inspection of the camp, visited the house of the
Rev. Dr. Jones, then pastor of that church, and,
after the usual preliminaries, thus accosted him:
— 'Doctor, I understand that the Lord's supper
is to be celebrated with you next Sunday. I
would learn, if it accords with the canons of your
church to admit communicants of another deno-
mination.' The Doctor rejoined, ' Most certainly.
Ours is not the Presbyterian table. General, but
the Lord's table, and we hence give the Lord's in-
vitation to all his followers, of whatever name.'
The General replied, ' I am glad of it; that is as
it ought to be, but as I was not quite sure of the
fact, I thought I would ascertain it from yourself,
as I propose to join with you on that occasion.
Though a member of the church of England, I
have no exclusive partialities.' The Doctor re-
assured him of a cordial welcome, and the Gene-
ral was found seated with the communicants the
next Sabbath.

"During my residence in the United States,
subsequent to this period, I was frequently wit-
ness to the good understanding wliich generally
prevails among clergymen profi^ssing different
opinions on church forms and doctrinal points, in
this country; and I occasionally observed notices
in the newspapers to the same purport The
two following I have preserved: — 'The corner-
stone of a new Baptist church was laid at Savan-
naJi in Georgia, and the ceremonial services were
performed by clergymen of the Methodist, Ger-
man, Lutheran, Presbyterian, Episcopal, and Bap-
tist churches.' ' The sacrament of the Lord's
supper was administered in the Rev. Mr. Post's
church ( Presbyterian church at Wasliington ),
and, as usual, all members of other churches in
regular standing were invited to unite with the
members of that church, in testifying their faith
in, and love to, their Lord and Saviour. The in-
vited guests assembled around the table; and it so
happened that Mr. Grundy, a senator from Ten-
nessee, and two Cherokee Indians, were seated
side by side.' Nothing is more astounding in the
stage-coach intercourse with the people of thia
country, as well as in the bar-rooms where tra-
velers meet, than the freedom and apparent sin-
cerity of their remarks, and the perfect feeling of
equality with which the conversation is maintain-
ed, especially on religious matters. I have heard
the most opposite creeds maintained, without any-
thing like acrimonious discussion or sarcastic re-
mark, by persons in the same stage, professing
themselves nndisguisedly, Calvinists, Episcopa-
lians, Methodists, and Unitarians," &c.

If such are the liberal views entertained in
America on religious subjects, and if such dispo-
sitions are more congenial to the spirit of the
Christian system, than the fiery and unhallowed

LIBERALITY OF SECTARIES IN AMERICA.

149

leal and unholy jealousies which many religion-
ists display — wliy aro they not more frequently
mauifosled in our own country? For, the differ-
ence of localities and customs cannot alter the
iialure and obligation of moral principies and
actions. What a striking contrast to the scenes
now exhibited are such facts as the following: —
"The Rev. J. T. Campbell, rector of Tilston, in
the diocese of Chester, has been suspended from
his clerical function, for twelve months, with a
sequestration of his benefice, for that time, for
preaching in a meihodist mertiny-house in Naut-
wicli, and in other similar places within the dio-
cese." "The Rev. Dr. Rice, curate of St. Lukes,
London, who made himself conspicuous the other
day, at Mr. VVakeiy's dinner, and wiio, in conse-
quence of the liberal sentiments he then express-
ed on the subject of Church Reform, has fallen
under the censure of his diocesan." Both these
notices appeared in most of the newspajjers in
January, 18."J3, and were never contradicted I If
such conduct in the rulers of tlie church were
warranted by the doctrines or precepts of the New
Testament, Christianity would be unworthy of
any man's attention or support. If the principles
and persecuting S|)irit involved in such decisions,
were countenanced and supported by the laws of
the state, we should soon be subjected to all the
burnings, hangings, maiinings, tortures, and hor-
rid cruelties, which distinguished tiie dark ages
of Popery, and the proceedings of the Star Cham-
ber. How long will it be ere professed Christians
display a Christian spirit! and what is the utility
of Christianity to the world, unless candor, for-
bearance, love, meekness, and other Christian vir-
tues, be the characteristics of its professed vota-
riesl We dare any person to bring forward a
single instance of a man's being converted to the
faith of our holy religion, by the display of un-
hallowed zeal, furious bigotry, sectarian conten-
tions, or the manifestation of a domineering and
persecuting spirit. But, thousands of instances
could be produced of such dispositions being the
means of recruiting the ranks of infidelity and
licentiousness. The following statement, sent to
the Editor of the Liverpool Mercury, Feb. 14th,
1833, displays the liberality of certain British
clergymen, in the thirty-third year of the nine-
teenth century. " I have been recently called on
by death to part with one of my children. I

waited upon the Rev. of church (where

I buried a child a short time ago), to arrange with
him about its interment near the oiher. ' But to
what place of worship do you go? ' inquired most
eeriously the Reverend divine. ' The Methodists,
Sir, of the New Connection,' I replied. ' As you
do not attend my church, I cannot, therefore,
bury your child. — Where was your child bap-
tized?' was his second inquiry. 'At the church
of which I am a member,' I answered. ' How
can you think,' exclaimed the liberal and pious,
but indignant minister, 'that I shall bury your
child, which has been baptized by a Dissenter?
Take your child to be buried where it was bap-
tized.'— 'But, Sir, we have no burial-ground
eonnected with our chapel.' ' No matter; the
thurchwardens of my church have determined
■ot to bury any that do not belong to the church.

Bo,' said the minister, 'to , and arrange with

tim.' — So saying, he turned his back and left me.
R. Emery. ''^

The Duke of Newcastle — so notorious for do-
ing what he pleases with his own — has the follow-
ing clause introduced into certain leases in the
neighborhood of Nottingham: — " That in none of
the houses to be built, sJudl be held prayer-meetings,

or any conventicles for the diffusion of sentiments
contrary to the doctrines of the Church of England."
A tine specimen, truly, of Christian liberality in
the nineteenth century! If his Grace the Duk©
of Nev.'castle attended to his prayers as fnquently
u.\\d ferr.ently as the Liturgy enjoins, he would bo
disposed to display a little more candor in refer-
ence to the "prayer-meetings" of his dissenting
brethren. With regard to the leading doctrines of *
the Church of England, there are lew dissenters
disposed to find much fault with them. But what
will his Grace say of the indolence and avaricious
conduct of many of the ministers of that church,
which have been the cause of the rapid increase
of Dissenters? The Vicar of Pevensey in Sussex
(as appears from a petition of the parishioners,
dated February 1, 183.3) derives an income from
the parish of about 1200Z. a-year, and yet has
never once perfoniied divine service, since his
induction, about seventeen years ago. He has an-
other living at Guestliiig, about fifteen miles dis-
tant, from which he derives a revenue of 400Z. per
annum. Whether he does duty there is not
known; but it is not absurd to suppose, that a par-
son who will not so much as read prayers for
12(J0Z. is not very likely to preach for 4l)0Z.— R.
Hodgson, Dean of Carlisle, is also Vicar of Burg-
on-Sands, Rector of St. Georges in Hanover
Square, Vicar of Helliiigton; and yet at none of
these places is he found officiating. The tithes
received by the Dean and Chapter for Heshet,
amount to 1000/. or 1500Z. a-year; they pay the
curate that does the duty 18Z. 5s., or at the rate
of one shilling a-day — the wages of a bricklayer's
laborer. In Wetheral and Warwick, the Dean
and Chapter draw about lOOOZ. a-year for tithes,
and 1000/. a-year from the church lands, and
they pay the working minister the sum of 50/. a-
year. l"he tithes of the parish of St. Cuthberts
and St. Mary amount to about 1500/. a-year; and
the two curates, who do the duty, receive each
the sum of 2/. 13s. Ad. a-year!! Three brothers
of the name of Goodenough, monopolize thirteen
pieces of church preferment. One of them is
Prebend of Carlisle, Westminster and York,
Vicar of Wath All-Saints on Dearn, chaplain
of Adwick, and chaplain of Brampton Bierlow.
Those preferments produce, of course, several
thousands, for which the incumbents perform ab-
solutely nothing. And yet, one of the persons
above alluded to, had lately the effrontery to come
to Carlisle and preach up " the Church is in dan-
ger," because these shocking enormities are now
exposed to public reprobation. See Times news-
paper for March 7, 8, 1833. It would be no great
breach of charity to suppose, that it is such doc-
trines and practices as those now stated, that the
Duke of Newcastle is detennined to support with
such a degree of persecuting zeal — and that pure
Christianity, detached from its connections with
the state, is the object of his hatred and contempt.

As a corroboration of Mr. Stuart's statements
respecting the liberality of Religious Sectaries in
America, the following extract of a letter, dated
18th February, 1833, which the author received

from the Rev. Dr. S , a learned and pious

Presbyterian minister in the State of New York,
may be here inserted —

" I deeply regret to hear that so much of the
spirit of sectarianism prevails among the different
religious denominations of your country. We,
too, have enough of it; but it is here manifestly
on the aecline. You may possibly think it an
unreasonable stretch of liberality when I tell you,
that within a few weeks, I suffered an Episco-
palian to preach in my pulpit, and to use his own

150

APPENDIX.

forms of prayer. But such is the state of feeling
In my congregation, tliat, thougli sucli a thing
had never before occurred among thein, yet it
met with their univer.-^ul and unquulihed approba-
tion. On tiie otlier hand, I expect, in tlie course
of a week or two to preacii a cliarily sermon
here in one of our Episcopal churches, and to per-
form the whole service in my own way. This, it
must be confessed, is a little uncommon even in
this country; but everything indicates, that such
expressions of good will, even between Presby-
terians and Episcopalians, will soon become fre-
quent. Independents and Presbyterians here oc-
cupy nearly the same ground. They are indeed
distinct denominations, but are represented in
each other's public bodies." The author has per-
used an excellent sermon of the clergyman now
alluded to, which was preached in an Indepen-
dent church when introducing an Jiidty)endeiU
minister to his charge immediately after ordina-
tion, which shows that we have still much to
learn from our transatlantic brethren, in relation
to a friendly and affectionate intercourse with
Christians of different denominations.

No. XII. — On the Demoralizing Eff'eds of Infidel
Philosophy. Pp. l23-ia5.

With the view of corroborating and illustrating
more fully the statements made in the pages re-
ferred to, the following facts may be stated in
relation to the moral character of the inhabitants
of France, particularly those of Paris.

In the first place, the vice of gambling prevails
in the capital of France to an extent unknown in
almost any other country. The Palais Royale is
the grand focus of this species of iniquity, which
is the fertile source of licentiousness, and of
almost every crime. Mr. J. Scott, who visited
Paris in 1814, thus describes this sink of moral
pollution. " The Palais Royale presents the most
characteristic feature of Paris; it is dissolute, gay,
wretched, elegant, paltry, busy, and idle — it sug-
gests recollections of atrocity, and supplies sights
of fascination — it displays virtue and vice living
on easy terms, and in immediate neighborhood of
each other. Excitements, indulgences, and priva-
tions— art and vulgarity — science and ignorance
— artful conspiracies and careless debaucheries —
all mingle here, forming an atmosphere of various
e.xhalations, a whirl of the most lively images — a
stimulating melange of what is most heating,
intoxicating, and subduing." SirW. Scott, who
visited Paris in 1815, gives the following descrip-
tion of this infamous establishment. " The Palais
Royale, in whose saloons and porticoes vice has
established a public and open school for gambling
and licentiousness, should be leveled to the ground
with all its accursed brothels and gambling houses
— rendezvouses the more seductive to youth,
as being free from some of those dangers which
would alarm timiJity in places of avowedly scan-
dalous resort. In the Sallnn des Etrangers, the
most celebrated haunt of this Dom-Daniel, which
I had the curiosity to visit, the scene was decent
and silent to a degree of solemnity. An immense
hall was filled with gamesters and spectators.
Those who kept the bank, and managed the affairs
of the establishment, were distinguished by the
green shades which they wore to preserve their
eyes; by their silent and grave demeanor, and by
the paleness of their countenances, exhausted by
their constant vigils. There was no distinction of
persons, nor any passport required for entrance,
save that of a decent exterior ; and, on the long
tables, which were covered with gold, an artisan

was at liberty to hazard his week's wages, or a
noble his whole estate. Youth and age wera
equally welcome, and any one who chose to
play within the limits of a trifling sum, had only
to accuse his own weakness, if Jie was drawn
into deeper or more dangerous hazard. Every-
thing appeared to be conducted with perfect fair-
ness. The only advantage ])ossessed by the bank
(which is, however, enormous) is the extent of
the funds, by which it is enabled to sustain any
reverse of fortune ; whereas, most of the indi-
viduals who play against the bank, are in circum-
stances to be ruined by the first succession of ill
luck ; so that, ultimately, the small ventures
merge in the stock of the principal adventurers,
as rivers run into the sea. The profits of the
establishment must, indeed, be very large, to sup-
port its expenses. Beside a variety of atten-
dants, who distribute refreshments to the players
gratis, there is an elegant entertainment, with
expensive wines, regularly prepared, about three
o'clock in the morning, for those who choose to
partake of it. With such temptations around
iiim, and where the hazarding an insignificant
sum seems at first venial or innocent, it is no
wonder that thousands feel themselves gradually
involved in the vortex, whose verge is so little-
distinguishable, until they are swallowed up,
with their time, talents, fortune, and frequently
also both body and soul.

" This is vice with her fairest vizard; but the
same unhallowed precinct contains many a secret
cell for the most hideous and unheard of debauche-
ries; many an open rendezvous of infamy, and
many a den of usury and treason ; the whole
mixed with a Vanity Fair of shops for jewels,
trinkets, and baubles; that bashfulness may not
need a decent pretext for adventuring into the
haunts of infamy. It was here that the preachers
of revolution found, amidst gamblers, de.sper&-
does.and prostitutes, ready auditors of their doc-
trines, and active hands to labor in their vineyard.
It was here that the plots of the Buona])artists
were adjusted; and from hence the seduced sol-
di;^rs, inflamed with many a bumper to the health
of the exile of Elba, under the mystic names of
Jean de I' Epee, and Corporal Violet, were dis-
missed to spread the news of his approaching
return. In short, from this central pit of Ache-
ron, in which are openly assembled and mingled
those characters and occupations which, in all
other capitals, are driven to shroud themselves in
separate and retired recesses ; from this focus of
vice and treason have flowed forth those waters of
bitterness of which France has drunk so deeply."

The state of marriage in this country since the
revolution is likewise the fertile source of im-
morality and crime. Marriage is little else than
a state of legal concubinage, a mere temporary
connection, from which the parties can loose
themselves when they please; and women are a
species of mercantile commodity. Illicit connec-
tions and illegitimate cliildren, especially in Paris,
are numerous beyond what is known in any other
country. The following statement of the affairt
of the French capital, for the year ending 22d
September, 1803, given by the prefect of Police to
the Grand Judge, presents a most revolting idea
of the state of public morals : — During this year
490 men and 1G7 women committed suicide; 81
men and 69 women were murdered, of wl om 55
men and 52 women were foreigners; G44 divor-
ces; 155 murderers executed; 1210 persons con-
demned to the galleys, &.C.; 1626 persons to hard
labor, and 64 marked Kith hot irons; 12,076 pub-
lic women were registered j large sums weee

MANIA FOR DANCING IN PARIS.

151

levied from thesa wretched creatures, who were
made to pay from 5 to 10 g-uiueas eacli monthly,
according to their rank, beauty, or fashion; 155'J
kept mistresses were noted down by the police, and
381) brothels licensed by the Prefect. Among the
criminals executed were 7 fathers for poisoning
their children; 10 husbands for murdering their
wives ; 6 wives that had murdered tlieir husbands;
and 15 children who had poisoned or otherwise
destroyed their parents.

The glaring profanation of the Sabbath is an-
other striking characteristic of the people of
France, especially as displayed in the capital.
Entering Paris on the Sabbath, a Britozi is shocked
at beholding all that reverence and solemnity
Witli which that sacred day is generally kept in
Christian countries, not only set aside, but ridi-
culed and contemned, and a whole people appa-
rently lost to every impression of religion. The
shops are all alive, the gaming-houses filled, the
theaters crowded, the streets deafened with ballad-
Bingers and mountebanks ; persons of all ages,
from the hoary grandsire to the child of four or
five years, engaged in balls, routs, and dancings,
— the house of God alone deserted, and the voice
of religion alone unheard and despised. The
Sabbath was the day appointed for celebrating the
return of Buonaparte from Elba in 1815. In the
grand square there were stationed two theaters of
dancers and rope-dancers; two theaters of amu-
sing physical experiments; six bands for dancing;
a theater of singers; a display of fire-works ; a
circus where Francone's troops were to exhibit ;
and above all, that most delectable sport called
Matts de Cccngne. The l\Iatts de Cocagne consists
of two long poles, near the tops of which are
suspended various articles of cookery, such as
roast beef, fowls, ducks, &c. Tlie poles are
soaped and rendered slippery at the bottom; and
the sport consists in the ludicrous failures of those
who climb to reach the eatables. Two Matts de
Cocagne were also erected in the square Marjury;
as also four bands for dancing, a theater of rope-
dancers ; a theater of amusing experiments ; a
tlieater of singers, &.c. ; and fire-works. These
amusements were to commence at 2 o'clock, P.
M., and last until night. Along the avenue of the
Champ de Ehjsves, there were erected 36 fountains
of wine, 12 tables for the distribution of eatables,
such as i)ies, fowls, sausages, &,c. The distribu-
tion of the wine and eatables took place at three
o'clock. At nine o'clock there was a grand fire-
work at the Place de Concorde. Immediately
afterward a detonating balloon ascended from the
Champ de Elysees. The detonation took place
when the balloon was at the hight of 500 toises,
or above 3000 feet. In the evening all the thea-
ters were opened gratis, and all the public edifices
were illuminated. Sucli was the mode in wliich
the Parisians worshiped the " goddess of Reason"
on the day appointed for the Christian Sabbath.

That such profanation of the Sabbath is still
continued, and that it is not confined to the city
of Paris, but abounds in most of the provincial
towns of France, appears from the following
extract of a letter inserted in the Evangelical
Magazine for January, 1833, from a gentleman
who recently resided in different parts of that
country: — "Could every pious reader of this
letter be awakened, on the morning of that sacred
day, as I have been, by the clang of the anvil,
and, on his entrance into the streets and markets,
observe business prosecuted or suspended accord-
ing to the tastes of the tradesmen ; could he
mark the workmen on seasons of religious festi-
val, erecting the triumphal arch on the Sabbath

morning, and removing it on the Sabbath evening;
and notice the laborers, at their option, toiling all
day at the public works ; could he see the card-
party in the hotel, and the nine-pins before every
public house, and the promenaders swarming in
all the suburbs ; could he be compelled to witness,
on one Sunday, a grand review of a garrison;
and on another be disturbed by the music of a
company of strolling players; and could he find,
amidst all this profanation, as I have found, no
temple to which to retreat, save the barren cliff
or the ocean-cave, surely he would feel and pro-
claim the truth, ' This people is destroyed for lack
of knowledge.' " The same gentleman shows,
that this profanation is chiefly occasioned by " the
destitution of scriptural information which exists
in France," which the following facts, among
many others that came under his own obsen'ation,

tend to illustrate. " On the road to M , on

a market-day, I stopped about a doxen persons,
some poor, others of the better classes, and show-
ing them the New Testament, begged them to
inform me if they possessed it. With a single
exception, they all replied in the negative. In

the town of M , 1 entered, with the same

inquiry, many of the most respectable shops.
Only one indiviJual among their occupiers was
the owner of a New Testament. One gentleman,
who, during a week, dined with me at my inn,
and who avowed himself a deist and a materialist,
said that he had not seen a Testament for many
years. Indeed, I doubted whether he had ever
read it ; for, on my presenting one to him, ha
asked if it contained an account of the creation.
A journeyman bookbinder, having expressed a
wish to obtain this precious book, remarked, ou
receiving it, in perfect ignorance of its divine
authority, that he dared to say it was ' a very fine
work.' A student in a university, about 20 years
of age, told me, that although he had seen the
V^ulgate (Latin) version of the New Testament,
he had never met with it in a French translation.
A young woman, who professed to have a Bible,
produced instead of it a Catholic Abridgment of
the Scriptures, garbled in many important por-
tions, and interlarded with the comments of the
Fathers."

Such facts afford a striking evidence of the
hostility of the Roman Catholic Clergy in France
to the circulation of the Scriptures, and the en-
lightening of the minds of the community in the
knowledge of Divine truths; and therefore it is no
wonder that Infidelity, Materialism, and immo-
rality, should very generally prevail. " Even
among the Protestants," says the same writer,
" a large number of their ministers are worldly
men, frequenting, as a pious lady assured me,
'the chase, the dance, and tlie billiard table.' As
to the public worship of God, the case is equally
deplorable. In two large towns, and a population
of 25,000, I found no Protestant sanctuary. In a
third town, containing about 7000 inhabitants,
there was an English Episcopal chapel for the
British residents, but no French Protestant ser-
vice. At a fourth, in which there was a Protes-
tant church, the minister, who supplied four other
places, preached one Sabbath in five weeks."

The mania for dancing, which pervades all
classes and all ages, is another characteristic of
the people of Paris, of which some idea may be
formed from the following extract from a French
public Journal, dated August 2, 1804: — "The
danso-mania of both sexes seems rather to in-
crease than decrpase with tlie toann weather.
Sixty balls were advertised for last Sunday; and
for to-morrow sixty-nine are announced. Any

162

APPENDIX.

person v/alking in the Elysian fields, or on the
Boulevards, may be convinced tiiat those temples
of pleasure are not without worshipers. Beside
these, in our own walks last SunJay, we counted
uo less than twenlij-lwo gardens not advertized,
where there was Jiddling and dancing. Indeed,
tliis pleasure is templing, because it is very cheap.
For u bottle of beer, which costs 6 sons {'<id.), and
2 sous (!'/.), to the fiddler, a husband and wife,
with their children, may amuse theimeloes J'rom three
o'clock in the afternoon until eleven o'clock at night.
As this exerci.se both diverts tiie mind and
strengthens the body, and as Sunday is the only
day of the week which t!ie most num.'rous classes
of people can dispose of, loitliout injurij to them-
selves or the state, government encourages, as
much as possible, these innocent amusements on
that day. In the garden of Chanmievre, on the
Boulevard Neuf, we observed, in the same qua-
drilles, last Sunday, four generations, the great
grandsire dancing with his great-great grand-
daughter, and the gi-ipat-grandmamma dancing
with her great-great grandson. It was a satisfac-
tion impossible to be expressed, to see persons of
so many different age*, all enjoying the same
pleasures for the present, not remembering past
misfortunes, nor apj)re!ieuding future ones. The
grave seemi'd equally distant from the girl of ten
years old, and from her great-grandmamma of
seventy years, and from the boy that had not seen
three lusters, as from the great grandsire reaching
nearly fourscore years. In anotlier quadrille,
were four lovers dancing with tiieir mistresses.
There, again, nothing was observed but an emu-
lation who should enjoy the present moment. Not
an idea of the past, or of time to coine, clouded
their thoughts; in a few words, they were per-
fectly happy. Lpt those tormented by avarice or
ambition frequent those places on a Sunday, and
they will be cured of their vile passions, if they
are not incurable."*

Such are a few sketches of the moral state and
character of the people of Paris, which, there is
every reason to believe, are, with a few modifica-
tions, applicable to the inhabitants of most of the
other large towns in France. Among the great
mass of the popiilalion of that country, there ap-
pears to be no distinct recognition of the mor.d
attributes of the D^-ity, of tlie obligation of the
Divine law, or of a future and eternal state of ex-
istence. Whirled about incessantly in the vortex
of vanity and di.ssipation, the Creator is lost sight
of, moral responsibility disregarded, and present
sensual gratifications pursued with the utmost
eagerness, regardless whether death sliall prove
the precursor to permanent happiness or misery,
or to a state of ^'■eternal sleep." Never, perhaps,
in a Pagan country, was the Epicurean philoso-
phy so systematically reduced to practice as in
the country of Voltaire, Bnlfou, Mirabeau, Con-
dorcet, Helvetius, and Diderot. It cannot be dif-
ficult to trace the present demoralization of
France to the skeptical and atheistical principles
disseminated by such writers, whicli were adopt-
ed in all their extent, and acted upon by the lead-
ers of the first Revolution. Soon after that event,
education was altogether proscribed. During the
space of five years, from 1701 to 1796, the public
instruction of the young was totally set aside,
and, of course, they were left to remain entirely
ignorant of the facts and doctrines of religion,
and of the duties tliey owe to God and to man.

• Several of the above sketches are extracted fiom the
" Glasgow Geography," a work which contains an immense
mass of historical, geographical, an.1 miscellaaeous infor-
mation.

It is easy, therefore, to conceive what must bo tho
intellectual, the moral, and religious condition of
those who were born a little before this |)criod,
and who now form a considerable portion of tho
population arrived at the years of manhood. A
gentleman at Paris happened to possess a domestic
of sense and general intelligence above his sta-
tion. His master, upon some occasion, used to
him tho expression, "It is doing as we would be
done by," — the Christian maxim. The young
man looked rather surprised: "Yes" (replied tho
gentleman), "I say, it is the doctrine of the Chris-
tian religion, whicli teaches us not only to do us
we would be done by, but also to return good for
evil." "It may be so. Sir" (repliL^d he), "but I
had the misfortune to be born during the heat of
the revolution, wiien it would have been death to
have spoken on the subject of religion; and so
soon as I was fifteen years old. I was put into tho
hands of the drill-serjeant, whose first lesson to me
was, that as a French soldier, I was to fear neither
God nor devil." It is to be hoped, that the rising
generation in France is now somewhat improved
in intelligence and mortility beyond that which
sprung up during the demoralizing scenes of the
first revolution; but in spite of all the counter-
acting efforts that can now be used, another gene-
ration, at least, must pass away, before the immo-
ral effects produced by infidel philosophy, and
the principles which prevailed during the "reign
of terror," can be nearly obliterated.

I shall conclude these sketches with the follow-
ing account of the consecration of the "Goddess
of Reason," — one of the most profane and pre-
sumptuous mockeries of everything that is ra-
tional or sacred, to be found in the history of
mankind.

" The section of the Sans Culottes, declared at
the bar of the Convention, November 10, 1793,
that they would no longer have priests among
them, and that they required the total suppression
of all s.alaries paid to the ministers of religioua
worship. The petition was followed by a nume-
rous procession, which filed off in the hall, ac-
companied by national music. Surrounded by
them, appeared a young woman* of the finest
figure, arrayed in the robes of liberty, and seated
in a chair, ornamented with leaves and festoons.
She was placed opposite the President, and Chau-
mette, one of the members, said, 'Fanaticism has
abandoned the place of truth; squint-eyed, it
could not bear the brilliant light. ^Fhe people of
Paris have taken possession of the temple, which
they have regenerated; the Gothic arches which,
until this day resounded with lies, now echo with
the accents of truth; you see we have not taken
for our festivals inanimate idols, it is a chef d'aeuvre
of nature whom we have arrayed in the habit of
liberty; its sacred form has injtamed all hearts.
The public has but one cry, "No rno'e altars, no
more priests, no other God but the God of na-
ture." We, their magistrates, we accompany
them from the temple of truth to the temple of
the laws, to ccli'brate a new liberty, and to re-
quest that the cidevant church of Notre Dame be
changed into a temple consecrated to reuion and
truth.' This proposal, being converted into a
motion, was immediately decreed; and the Con-
vention afterward decided, that the citizens of
Paris, on this day, continued to deserve well of
their country. The Goddess then seated herself
by the side of the President, who gave her a fra-
ternal kisi. The secretaries presented themselves
to share the same favor; every one was eager to kiss

t Madame Desmoolines, who was afterward eVfillotined

CONSECRATION OF' A FEMALE DEITY.

153

6te new divinity, whom so many salutations did
not in the least disconcert. During tlie ceremony,
tile orphans of tiie country, pupils of Bounlon
(ono of the meinbsrs), sang a hijmn to reason, com-
posed by citizen Moline. 'J'ljn national music
playod Goss.'t's hymn to liberty- The Convention
Uien mixed with tlio people, to celebrate the feast
of reason in her new temple. A grand festival was
accordingly held in the church of Ndtre Dame,
in honor of tliis deity. In the middle of the
church was <'rected a mount, and on it a very
plain temple, the facade of which bore the follow-
ing inscrijition-^' a la Pkilosophie.'' The busts of
the most cdobrated philosopiicrs were placed be-
fore the gate of this temple. The torch of truth
was in the summit of tlie mount, upon the altar
of Reason, spreading light. Tlie Convention and
nil the constituted authorities assisted at the cen;-
mony. Two rows of young girls, dressed in
white, each wearing a crown of oak leaves, cross-
ed before the altar of reason, at the sound of re-
publican music; each of the girls inclined before
the torch, and ascended the summit of the mount.
Liberty then came out of the temple of philoso-
phy, toward a throne made of turf, to receive the
homage of the republicans of both sexes, who
dang a hymn in her praise, extending their arms
at the same time toward her. Liberty ascended
afterward, to return to the tem])Ie,and, in re-enter-
ing it, she turned about, casting a look of bene-
volence upon her friends; when she got in, every
one expressed with enthusiasm the sensations
which the Goddess excited in them by songs of
joy ; and they swore, never, never to cease to be
faitiiful to hor."

Such were the festivities and ceremonies which
were prescribed for the installation of this new
divinity, and such tlie shameless folly and daring
impiety with which they were accompanied !
Such is the Religion of what has been presump-
tuously called Philosophy, when it has shaken off
its allegiance to the Christian Revelation — a reli-
gion as inconsistent with the dictates of reason
and the common sense of mankind, as it is with
the religion of the Bible. Never, in any age, was
Philosophy so shamefully degraded, and exposed
to the contempt of every rational mind, as when
it thus stooped to such absurd foolery and Hea-
ven-daring profanity. Beside the impiety of the
whole of this procedure, — wiiich is almost with-
out a parallel in the annals of the world — there
was an imbecilily and a silliness in it altogether
ii:compulible with those sublime ideas of creation
and Providence, which true philosophy, when
properly directed, has a tendency to inspire. And
how inconsistently, as well as inhumanely, did
these worshipers of " liberty," " reason," and
"truth," conduct themselves to the representa-
tive of their goddess, when, soon after, they
doomed the lady, whom they had kissed and
adored in the " temple of truth," to expire under
the stroke of the guillotine! Such occurrences
appear evidently intended by the moral Governor
of the world, to admonish us of the danger of se-
parating science from its connections with reveal-
ed religion, and to show us to what dreadful
lengths, in impiety and crime, even men of talent
will proceed, wlien the truths of Revelation are
set aside, and the principles and moral laws ot
Christianity are trampled under foot.

JPZJI'^ 2.

PJLATS. 2.

(154)

(See page 79.)

THK

PHILOSOPHY

OF A

FUTURE STATE

PREFACE

TnE reasonings and illustrations contained in the following pages are intended to
direct the intelligent Christian in some of those trains of thought which he ought to
prosecute, when looking forward to the scene of hi^ future destination. The Author
was induced to engage in the discussion of this subject, from a consideration, that many
vague and erroneous conceptions are still entertained among Christians in regard to the
nature of heavenly felicity, and the employments of the future world. In elucidating
the train of thought which is here prosecuted, he has brought forward, without hesita-
tion, the discoveries of modern science, particularly those which relate to the scenery
of the heavens ; convinced, that all the manifestations of himself which the Creator
has permitted us to contemplate, are intended to throw light on the plan of his moral
government in relation both to our present and our future destiny. He has carefully
avoided everything that might appear like vague or extravagant conjecture ; and he
trusts that the opinions he has broached, and the conclusions he has deduced, will
generally be found accordant with the analogies of Nature and the dictates of
Revelation. He is aware, that he has many prejudices to encounter, arising from the
rague and indefinite manner iu which such subjects have been hitherto treated, and
from the want of those expansive views of the Divine operations which the pro-
fessors of Christianity should endeavor to attain; but he feels confident that those
who are best qualified to appreciate his sentiments, will treat with candor an attempi
to elucidate a subject hitherto overlooked, and in which every individual of the human
race is deeply interested.

It was originally intended to publish what is contained in Parts II, and III,
without any dissertation on the evidences of a future state as deduced from the light
of nature — taking the immortality of man for granted on the authority of Revelation.
But, on second thought, it was judged expedient, for the sake of general readers, to
exhibit a condensed view of those arguments which even the light of reason can
produce in favor of the immortality of man. In this department of the volume, the
Author has brought forward several arguments which he is not aware have been taken
notice of by ethical writers, when treating on this subject. He has endeavored to
illustrate these and the other arguments here adduced, in minute detail, and in a
popular manner, so as to be level to the comprehension of every reader ; and he trusts,
that the force of the whole combined, will be found to amount to as high a degree of
moral demonstration as can be expected in relation to objects which are not cognizable
by the eye of sense.

The greater portion of what is contained in Part ITT, having been written above
eight yep.rs ago, several apparent repetitions of facts alluded to iu the preceding Parts
may perhaps bo noticed by the critical reader; but, in general it will be found, that
where the same facts are repeated, they are cither exhibited in a new aspect, or brought
forward tc elucidate another subject.

The praatical reflections and remarks embodied in the last Part of this work, will not^
the Author \r. persuaded, be considered by any of his readers, as cither unnecessary,
•r inappropiiato to the subjects treated of in the preceding parts of this volume. Il

( Hi )

lY PREFACE.

is of the utmost importance that every individual be convinced, that he cannot bo
supposed a candidate for a blessed immortality, unless the train of his affections, and
the general tenor of his conduct, in some measure correspond to the tempers and dis-
positions, and the moral purity which prevail in the heavenly state.

The favorable reception which the public have given to the volumes he has formerly
published, induces the Author to indulge the hope, that the present volume may not be
altogether unworthy of their attention. That it may tend to convince the skeptical of
the reality of an immortal existence — to cxpaiid the believer's conceptions of the
attributes of the Divinity, and the glory of " that inheritance which is reserved in
heaven" for the faithful— and to excite in the mind of every reader an ardent desire to
cultivate those dispositions and virtues which will prepare him for the enjoyment of ce-
lestial bliss — is the Author's most sincere and ardent wish, as it was the great object
he had in view when engaged in its composition.

.

CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTION.

Pagb

Importance of the question which relates to the reality of a Future World — folly of the

Indiiference which prevails in relation to this point 7

PART I.
CHAPTEK I.

PROOFS OF A FUTITRE STATE FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE 9

SE CTION I

Ob the universal belief which the doctrine of Immortality has obtaiuea in all ages 9

SECTION II.
On the desire of Future Existence implanted in the human mind 19

SECTION III.

On the Intellectual Faculties of man, and the strong desire of knowledge implanted in the

human mind 14

SECTION IV.
Dn the perpetual progress ol the mind toward Perfection 18

SECTION V.

-On the unlimited range of View which is opened to the human faculties throughout the

immensity of space and duration 19

SECTION VI.
On the Moral Powers of man 23

SECTION VII.
On the apprehensions and forebodings of the mind when under the influence of remorse 25

SECTION VIII.

On the disordered state of the Moral World, when contrasted with the regular and systematic

order of the Material 27

SECTION IX.
On the unequal distribution of Rewards and Punishments in the present state. 31

SECTION X
On the absurdity of eupposing that the Thinking Principle in man will ever bo anniliilated 33

a CONTENTS.

SECTION XI.
Oo the gloomy considerations and absurd consequences involved in the Denial of a Future State . . 39

CHAPTER IL

PROOFS OF A FUTURE STATE FROM DIVINE REVELATIOM 40

Practical influence which the doctrine of a Future State ought to have upon our Affections

and Conduct 43

PART II.

ON THE CONNECTION OF SCIENCE WITH A FUTURE STATE. 46

Object of Scientific Investigation 47

Objects on which the faculties of celestial intelligences will bo employed 48

Extent of tlie general conflagration 48

Sciences which will be prosecuted in a future state 53

Arithmetic, its objects — utility of numbers and their combinations — illustrations from Scripture 53
Mathematical sciences, their utility — angels recognize the principles of these sciences — the

Creator has laid the foundation of these sciences in his works 54

Astronomy, its objects — presents an immense field of contemplation 55

Natural Philosophy, — its objects and discoveries 57

Anatomy and Physiology, tlieir objects — wonders of the human frame — resurrection-body, &c. 58
History — contains a record of the ways of Providence — our ignorance of many important facta

in history — history of angels and other intelligences 59

PAKT III.

0« THE AIDS WHICH THE DISCOVERIES OF SCIENCE AFFORD FOR ENABLING V3 TO FORM A CON-
CEPTION OF THE PERPETUAL IMPROVEMENT OF THE CELESTIAL INHABITANTS IN KNOWLEDGK
AND FELICITY. 6S

Vague and distorted Conceptions in regard to the Employments of Heaven 65

PART IV.

ON THE MORAL QU-VLIFICATIONS REQUISITK TO THE ENJOYMENT OF THE FELICITY OF THE FOTiniE

WORLD. 85

Examples of Depravity — Buonaparte 95

Lord Byron 95

Example from Cochrane's Travels 96

Misery resulting from the association of malignant characters 96

General conclusion 97

APPENDIX.

Mr. Shepherd's Letter to Lord Byron 97

His lordship's reply — liis last sentiments in reference to religion and eternity .98

Buonaparte's opinion of the morality of the New Testament, &c 99

THE

PHILOSOPHY

FUTURE STATE.

PART I.

PROOFS OF A FUTURE STATE.

INTRODUCTIOxN.

Thk sketches contained in Parts II and III, of
this work, being chiefly intended to illustrate the
connexion of science with the scenes of a future
World, and the aids which its discoveries afford,
for enabling us to form some conception of the
perpetual improvement of its inhabitants in know-
ledge and felicity — I shall endeavor, in this First
Part, to exhibit a condensed view of some of those
mndertces which prove the immortality of the
■oul, and the eternal destination of man.

This is an inquiry far more interesting, and im-
portant, to every individual of mankind, than any
other which comes within the range of the human
mind. Next to the being of a God, the doctrine
of the immortality of man lies at the foundation of
nil religion, and of all the animating prospects
which can cheer us in this land of our pilgrimage.
Remove from the mind the belief of a future ex-
istence, and the hope of immortality, and religion
becomes a shadow, life a dream, and the approach
of death a scene of darkness and despair. Upon
this short qaestion, "Is man immortal, or is he not?''^
depends all that is valuable in science, in morals,,
and in theolog)', and all that is most interesting to
man as a social b^ing, and as a rational and ac-
countable intelligence. If he is destined to an
eternal existence, an immense importance must
attach to all his present affections, actions, and
pursuits; and it must be a matter of infinite mo-
ment, that they be directed in such a channel, as
will tend to carry him forward in safety, to the
felicities of a future world. But if his whole ex-
istence be circumscribed within the circle of a few
fleeting years, man appears ail enigma, an inex-
plicable phenomenon in the universe, human life
a mystery, the world a scene of confusion, virtue
a mere phantom, the Creator a capricious being,
and his plans and arrangements an inextricable
maze.

There is too much reason to believe, that the in-
difference to religion which so generally prevails,
especially among those who are raised a little above
the vulgar throng, and the unliallowedpropensities
and vicious practices to which it gives rise — are
owing, in a considerable degree, to the want of a

Vol. I.--11

fall conviction of the reality ol a future existence,
or to some doubts which hover about the mind, in
relation to this important point. There is no man,
however insensible to the obligations of religion,
that can fully satisfy his own mind, or the mind*
of others, that the idea of a Qiture world is a mere
chimera. On the contrary, the possibility, and
even the probability, of the truth of man's eternal
destiny, will, at certain seasons, force themselves
upon the minds even of the most careless aji<d pro-
fane. Yet, it is amazing to consider, with what
ease and indifference multitudes of this descrip-
tion can glide down the stream of time, under the
awful uncertainty, whether it will land them in
the shades of annihilation, the realms of bliss, or
the regions of endless woe. — "Between us and
these throe periods or states," says a celebrated
French writer, " no barrier is interposed but life,
the most brittle thing in all nature; and the hap-
piness of heaven being certainly not designed for
tiiose who doubt whether they have an immortal
part to enjoy it, such persons have nothing left
Ijut the miserable chance of annihilation, or of
hell. Thore is not any reflection which can have
more reality than this, as there is none which has
greater terror. Let us set the bravest face on our
condition, and play the heroes, as artfully as we can,
yet see here the issue which attends the goodliest
life upon earth! It is in vain for men to turn aside
their thoughts from this eternity, which awaits
them, as if they were able to destroy it, by deny-
ing it a place in their imagination. It subsists in
spite of them; it advances unobserved; and death,
which is to draw the curtain from it, will, in a
short time, infallibly reduce them to the dreadful
necessity of being forever nothing, or forever mis-
erable."

To treat a subject so interesting and momen-
tous, with levity or indifference; to exert all the
energies of the soul in the pursuit of objects, which
a few years, at most, will snatch forever from their
embrace; and never to spend one serious hour iu
reflecting on what may possibly succeed the pres-
ent scene of existence, or in endeavoring to find
some light, to clear up the doubts that may baag

8

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

over this important inqiiiry, and to treat with de-
rision and scorn tiiose who would dirict them in
tliis serious investigation, is not only foolisii and
preposterous, but the liight of infatuation and of
madness. It is contrarj' to every principle on
whicli reasonable men act, in relation to the af-
fairs of the present world. To retain the profits
of a lucrative business, or to jireviuit the loss of
fortune, or of honor, a man will sometimes strain
every nerve, stretcli every faculty, deprive himself
of sleep, submit to numerous privations, encoun-
ter tile raging elements, and brave the dangers of
tJie ocean. Nay, he will often be overwhelmed
with despondency at the slightest inconveniences,
and will pass whole weeks and months in sullen-
ness and chagrin, for an imaginary afTrout, or
for the loss of a few pounds, wliile, at the same
time, lie remains perfectly indifTerent, and with-
out the least emotion, in regard to the unknown
scenes of the eternal world, and the danger of
endless misery to which he is exposed. Such a
conduct, and such dispositions, which are too
frequently realized in the case of thousands who
occasionally mingle in our religious assemblies,
are obviously inconsistent with the dictates of pru-
dence, and of common sense, and with everything
that ought to characterize a rational and an ac-
countable creature.

When we look back into the inexplorable abyss
of that eternity which is already past; when we
look forward to the immeasurable extent; and the
unfathomable depth of eternity to come; when we
behold Time, and all its circling years, appearing
only like a point on the surface of that vast and
boundless ocean; when we consider the immense
spaces of the universe with which we are surround-
ed and the innumerakle worlds which lie dispersed
in every direction thr(ughout the immeasurable
tracts of creation; when we consider that our ex-
istence, as thinking beings, may run parallel with
interminable ages; and that, in the revolutions of

eternity, we may exist in regions of space immeasu-
rably distant from our present habitation, associ-
ate with other orders of intelligent beings, and
pass through new scenes and changes in distant
worlds: and, when we consider that our rela'.ion
to time may be dissolved, and our connection with
eternity commence, within the space of a fe\T
months or years, or even before the sun shall
have described another circuit around the earth-
no inquiry can appear so momentous and inter-
esting, as that which loads to the determination
of our future and eternal destiny, and of those re-
alities which await us beyond the tomb. 1 3 re-
main insensible to the importance of such an in-
quiry, and unaffected at the prospect of the result
to which it may lead; while we are feelingly
alive to all the paltry concerns and little ills of life,
would argue the most unaccountable stupidity,
inconsistency and infatuation.

The man whose heart pants after substantial
knowledge and felicity, whose alFections center
on the Author of his existence, and who delights
to contemplate his character and perfections,
will enter, with pleasure, on every investigation
which has a tendency to throw alight on the scene
of his future destination. He will weigh, with
impartiality, every consideration, and will seize,
with delight, upon every argument by which a
full conviction of his immortal destiny may be in-
delibly riveted upon his mind; and he will endea-
vor to cheer iiis soul amidst the sorrows of mor-
tality, with the consideration that " when the
earthly house of his tabernacle is dissolved, he
has a building of God, a house not made with
hands, eternal in the heavens."

In illustrating the evidences of a future state,

I shall, in the jirst place, state some of those, proofa

which reason, or the light of nature, furnishes,

of man's eternal destination; and seeondhj, thorn

I which are derived from the system of revelalioa.

CHAPTER I.

PROOFS OF A FUTURE STATE FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

The evidences of a future state which the light
of reason afFords, though not so clear and deci-
sive as those whicli are derived from divine reve-
lation, are worthy of the serious cousi.lenition of
every one in whose mind the least doubt remains
ou this important subject The conviction they
are calculated to produce, when attentively weigh-
ed, is sufficient to leave every one without excuse
who trifles with the concerns of his future destiny,
and overlooks his relation to the eternal world.
Though the Deity is invisible to mortal eyes, yet
his existence and perfections are clearly demon-
strated by his visible operations, and he has not left
himself witliout a witness to his beneficence, in any
age, "in his giving rain from lieaven, and fruitful
seasons, and filling our hearts with food and glad-
ness." In like manner, though the realities
of a future world are not presented directly to the
eye of sense, yet the faculties with which man is
endowed, when properly exercised on all the phy-
sical and moral scenes which the universe dis-
plays, are sufficient to evince the high degree of
probability, if not absolute certainty, that his du-
ration and his sphere of action are not confined
to tlie narrow limits of the present world, but
have a relation to a future and an immortal exist-
ence.— In illustrating this topic, I shall waive the
consideration of several of those metaphysical ar-
guments which have been adduced by philoso-
phers and divines, founded on the immateriality
of the human soul, and confine myself chieffy to
those popular considerations, which are level to
every capacity, and, perhaps, more convincing
than the subtle and refined disquisitions of meta-
physical minds.

SECTION I.

On the uxi^-ersal belief which the doctrine
of jmmortauty has obtained in all ages.

It forms a presumptive proof of the immortality
of man, that this doctrine has obtained universal
belief among all nations, and in every period of
time.

That the thinking principle in man is of an im-
mortal nature, was believed by the ancient Egyp-
tians, the Persians, the Phenicians, the Scythians,
the Celts, the Druids, the Assyrians, — b^' the wisest
and the most celebrated characters among the
Greeks and Romans, and by almost every other
ancient nation and tribe whose records have
reached our times. The notions, indeed, which
many of them entertained of the scenes of futu-
rity were very obscure and imperfect ; but they
all embraced the idea, that death is not the de-
struction of the rational soul, but only its intro-
duction to a new and unknown state of existence.
The ancient Scythians believed that death was
oulv a change of habitation; and the Magian sect,
which prevailed in Babylonia, Media, Assyria,
aod I'ersia, admitted the doctrine of eternal re-

wards and punishments. The doctrines taught
by the second Zoroaster, who lived in the time of
Darius, were, "that there is one Supreme Being,
independent and self-existent from all eternity;
that under him there are two angels, one the an-
gel of light, who is the author of all good; and
the other the angel of darkness, who is the author
of all evil : that they are in a perpetual strugglo
with each other ; that where the angel of light
prevails, there good reigns; and that where tho
angel of darkness prevails, there evil takes place;
that this struggle shall continue to the end of tho
world : that then there shall be a general resur-
rection and a day of judgment, wherein all shall
receive a just retribution, according to their works.
After which, the angel of darkness and his disci-
ples shall go into a world of their own, where
they shall suffer, in everlasting darkness, tho
punishment of their evil deeds; and the angel of
light and his disciples shall also go into a world
of their own, where they shall receive, in ever-
lasting light, the reward due to their good deeds;
that after this they shall remain separated for-
ever, and light and darkness be no more mixed to
all eternity."* The remains of this sect, which
are scattered over Persia and India, still hold the
same doctrines, without any variation, even at thii
day.

It is well known, that Plato, Socrates, and other
Greek philosophers, held the doctrine of the soul's
immortality. In his admirable dialogue, en-
titled, "The Phffidon," Plato represents Socrates,
a little before his death, encompassed with a cir-
cle of philosophers, and discoursing with them on
the arguments which prove the eternal destiny of
man. "When the dead," says he, "are arrived
at the rendezvous of departed souls, whither their
angel conducts them, they are all judged. Those
who have passed their lives in a manner neither
entirely criminal, nor absolutely innocent, are
sent into a place where they suffer pains propor-
tioned to their faults, until, being purged and
cleansed of their guilt, and afterward restored to
liberty, they receive the reward of the good ac-
tions they have done in the body. Those who
are judged to be incurable, on account of the
greatness of their crimes, the fatal destiny that
passes judgment upon them hurls them into Tar-
tarus, from whence they never depart. Those
who are found guilty of crimes, great indeed, but
worthy of pardon, who have committed violences,
in the transports of rage, against their father or
mother, or have killed some one in a like emotion,
and afterward repented — suffer the same punish-
ment with the last, but for a time only, until by
prayers and supplications, they have obtained
pardon from those they have injured. But those
who have passed through life with peculiar sanc-
tity of manners, are received on high into a pure
region, where they live without their bodies to
all eternity, in a series of joys and delights which-
cannot be described." From such considerations,

• Rollin's Ancient History, vol. ij.
(9)

10

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

Socrates concludeis, "if thi soul be immortal, it
requires to be cultivated with attention, not only
for what we call the time of life, but for that
whicli i.-i to follow, I mean eternity; and the least
ii'jglect in this point may be attended with end-
less consequences. If death were the final dis-
solution of being, the wicked would be great
gainers by it, by being delivered at once from
their bodies, their souls, and their vices ; but as
the soul is immortal, it has no other means of
being fiecd from its evils, nor any safety for it,
but in becoming very good and very wise; for it
carries nothing with it, but its good or bad deeds,
its virtues and vices, which are commonly the
consequences of tiie education it has received,
and the causes of eternal happiness or misery."
Having held such discourses with his friends, he
kept silent for some time, and then drank oil' the
whole of the poisonous draught which had been
put into his hand, with amazing tranquillity, and
an inexpressible serenity of aspect, as one who
was about to exchange a short and wretched life,
for a blessed and eternal existence.

The descriptions and allusions, contained in the
writings of the ancient poets, are a convincing
proof, that the notion of the soul's immortality
was a universal opinion in the times in which
they wrote, and among'the nations to whom their
writings were addressed. Homer's account of
the descent of Ulysses into hell, and his descrip-
tion of Minos in the shades below, distributing
justice to the dead assembled in troops around his
tribunal, and pronouncing irrevocable judgments,
which decide their everlasting fate, demonstrate,
that they entertained the belief, that virtues are
rewarded, and that crimes are punished, in an-
other state of existence. The poems of Ovid and
Virgil contain a variety of descriptions, in which
the same opinions are involved. Their notions
of future punishment are set forth in the descrip-
tions tliey give of Ixion, who was fastened to a
wheel, and whirled about continually with a
swift and rapid motion — of Tantalus, who, for
the loathsome banquet he made for the gods, was
set in water up to the chin, with apples hanging
to his very lips, yet had no power cither to stoop
to the one to quench his raging ihirst, or to reach
to the other to satisfy his craving appetite — of the
ffty daughters of Danaus, who, for the barbarous
massacre of their liusbands in one night, were
condemned in hell to fill a barrel full of holes
with water, which ran out again as fast it was
filled — of Sisyphus, who, for his robberies, was
set to roll a great stone up a steep hill, which,
when it was just at the top, suddenly fell down
again, and so renewed his labor — and of Titijus,
who was adjutiged to have a vulture to feed upon
his liver and entrails, which still grew and in-
creastTd as they were devoured. — Their notions of
future iiappiness a-'e embodied in the descriptions
they have given of the Hesperian gardens, and
the Elysian fields, where the souls of the virtu-
ous rest secure from every danger, and enjoy per-
petual and uninterrupted bliss.

And as the nations of antiquity recognized the
doctrine of a future slate of existence, so tliere is
•carcely a nation or tribe of mankind, presently
existing, however barbarous and untutored, in
which the same opinion does not prevail. The
natives of the Society Isles believe, that after
death, there is not only a state of conscious exist-
ence, but degrees of eminence and felicity, ac-
cording as men have been more or less pleasing
to the Eatova, or Deity, while upon earth. The
chiefs of the Friendly Islands believe in the im-
mortaUtv of their soul, which, at death tiiev sav .

is immediately conveyed in a fast-sailing canoe,
to a distant country, called Doobludha, which
they described as resonbling the Mahometan
paradise, — that those who are conveyed thither
are no more subject to death, but feast on all
the favorite productions of their native soil,
with which this blissful abode is plentifully fur-
nished. The New Zealamlers believe, that the
third day after the interment of a man, the heart
separates itself from the corpse, and that this
separation is announced by a general breeze of
wind, which gives warning of its approach, by an
inferior divinity that hovers over the grave, and
who carries it to the clouds. They believe that
the soul of the man whose flesh is devoured by
the enemy, is doomed to a perpetual fire, while
the soul of the man whose body has been rescued
from those that killed him, and the souls of all
who die a natural death, ascend to the habitations
of the gods. The inhabitants of the Pelew
Islands, according to. the account of Captain
Wilson, although they have few religious rites
and ceremonies, believe in one Suj)reme Being,
and in a future state of rewards and punishments.
In the religion of the Kalinuc Tartars, the doc-
trine of a future state liolds a cons])icuous place.
They believe that hell is situated in the middle
region, between heaven and earth, and their
devils are represented with all sorts of frightful
forms, of a black and hideous aspect, with the
heads of goats, lions, and unicorns. Their holy
lamas, who have obtained a victory over all their
passions, are supposed to pass immediately into
heaven, where they enjoy perfect rest, and exer-
cise themselves in divine seiTice. The Samoie-
dians of Northern Tartary believe that there is
one Supreme Being, that he is our all-merciful
and common Parent, and that he will reward with
a happy state hereafter, those who live virtuously
in tliis .world. The Birmans believe in the trans-
migration of souls, after which, they maintain,
that the radically bad will be sentenced to lasting
punishment, while the good will enjoy eternal
happiness on a mountain called Meru.

The various tribes which inhabit the continent
of Africa, in so far as we are acquainted with
their religious opinions, appear to recognize the
doctrine of a future state. "I was lately discours-
ing on this subject," says Mr. Addison, in one of
his Spectators, " with a learned person, who haa
been very much conversant among the inhabi-
tants of the most western parts of Africa. Upon
his conversing with several in that country, he
tells me, that their notions of heaven or of a future
state of happiness, is this — that everything we
there wish for will innnediately present itself to us.
We find, say they, that our souls are of such a
nature that they require variety, and are not ca-
pable of being always delighted with tlie same ob-
jects. The Supreme Being, therefore, in compli-
ance with this state of happiness which he has im-
planted in the soul of man, will raise up, from
time to time, say tliey, every gratification which
it is in tiie human nature to be pleased with. If
we wish to be in groves or bowers, among run-
ning streams or falls of water, we shall immedi-
ately find ourselves in the midst of such a scene as
we desire. If we would be entertained with music,
and the melody of sounds, the concert arises upon
our wish, and the whole region about us is filled
with harmony. In short, every desire will be fol-
lowed by fruition; and whatever a man's inclina-
tion directs him to, will be present with him."—
The Negroes, and other inhabitants of the interior
of Af:ica, according to the account of Mr. Park, be-
lieve in one Suoreme Ruler, and ex'>ect hereafter

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

11

\

'to enter into a state of misery or felicity. Tli'i
Gallas of Abys.sinia, thougli they reject the doc-
Iriao. of future jmnishment, atlmit the reality of a
future stale. Tiie Mandiiigoes, the Jalofts, tiie
Feloops, the Foulali-, tiie Moors, and all the
other tribes who have embraced the Mahoinetau
faith, recognize the doctrine of tlie iuimorlality of
liie soul, and of future rewards in a celestial para-
dise. The natives of Dahomy entertain the same
belief; and hence, it is a common practice with
the sovereign of that country, to send an account
to his fort fathers of any remarkaljle event, by de-
livering a message to whoever may liap])i'n to be
near him at tlie time, and then ordering hiiNiead
to be chopped oft' immediately, that he may sei-ve
as a courier, to convey intelligence to the world
of spirits.*

Tlie Persians are said to leave one part of their
graves open, from a belief tiiat ths dead will be
reanimated, and visited by angels, who will ap-
point (hem to their appropriate abodes in a future
state. From a similar belief, thousands of Hin-
doo widows annually sacrifice themseU^es on the
funeral piles of their deceased husbands, in the
hope of enjoying with them the felicities of eter-
nal life. — The Japanese believe, that the souls of
men and beasts are alike immortal; that a just
distribution of rewards and punishments takes
place after death; that there are dilFerent (Jegrees
of happiness, as well as of punishment, and that
the souls of the wicked transmigrate, after death,
into the bodies of animals, and at last, in case
of amendment, are translated back again into the
human form.f From a conviction of the reality
of a future world, the Wahabee Arabs regard it as
Lnpious to mourn for the dead, who, tiiey say,
are enjoying felicity with Mahomet in paradise;
and the Javanese make several feasts, on the de-
cease of their friends and relations, to commemo-
rate their entrance into a world of bliss. — The
North American Indians believe that, beyond the
most distmt mountains of their country, there is
a wide ris'er; beyond that river a great country;
on the other side of that country, a world of water;
in that water are a thousand Islands, full of trees
and streams of water, and that a thousand buffa-
loes, and ten thousand deer, graze on the hills, or
ruminate in the valleys. When they die, they
are persuaded that the Great Spirit will conduct
them to this land of souls.

Thus it appears, that not only the philosophers
of antiquity, and the most civilized nations pre-
sently existing on the globe, have recognized the
doctrine of the immortality of man, but that even
the most savage and untutored tiibes fortify their
minds in the prospect of death, with the hope of a
happiness commensurate to their desires, in the
regions beyond the grave.

"E'en the poor Indian whose untntor'd mind
Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind,
Whose soul proud science never taught to stray
Far as the solar walk or milky way —
Vet simple nature to his hope has given
Behind the cloud-topt hill an humbler heaven;
iJome safer world in depth of woods embraced,
S^ome happier Island in the watery v.aste,
Where slaves once more their native land behold.
No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold, —
And thinks, admitted to yon equal sky,
llis faithftil dog shall bear him company." — Pope.

Among the numerous and diversified tribes
that are scattered over the different regions of the
earth, that agree in scarcely any other sentiment

• M'Leod's Voyage f> -Africa, 1820, p. 64.
tThunberg'a Xiavels.

or article of religious belief, we here find the most
perfect harmony, in their recognition of a Supreme
Intelligence, and in their belief that the soul sur-
vives the dissolution of its mortal frame. And,aa
Cicero long since observed, " In everj'thing the
consent of all nations is to be accounted the law
of nature, and to resist it, is to resist the voice of
God." For we can scarcely suppose, in consis-
tency with the divine perfections, that an error, oa
a subject of so vast imjiortance to mankind, should
obtain the universal belief of all nations and ages,
and that God himself would suffer a world of ra-
tional beings, throughout every generation, to be
carried away by a didusion, and to be tantalized,
by a hope which has no foundation in nature,
and which is contrary to the plan of his moral
government. It is true, indeed, that several of
the opinions to which I have now adverted, and
many others which prevail among the uncivilized
tribes of inaukina, in regard to the condition of
disembodied spirits, and the nature of future hap-
piness, are very erroneous and imperfect; but
they all recognize this grand and important truth,
that death is not the destruction of the rational
soul, and that man is destined to an immortid ex-
istence. Their erroneous conceptions in respect
to the rewards and punishments of the future
world may be easily accounted for, from a con-
sideration of the imperfect conceptions they have
formed of the Divine Being, and of the principles
of his moral government; from their ignorance of
those leading principles and moral laws, by which
the Almighty regulates the intelligent universe;
from the false ideas they have been led to enter-
tain respecting the nature of substantial happi-
ness; from the cruel and absurd practices con-
nected vvith the system of pagan superstition;
from the intellectual darkness wiiicli has brooded
over the human race ever since the fall of man;
and from the universal prevalence of those de-
praved dispositions and affections, whifch charac-
terize the untutored tribes on whom the light of
revelation has never shone.

To whatever cause thir universal belief of a
future existence is to be traced — whether to a uni-
versal tradition derived from the first parents of
the human race; to an innate sentiment original-
ly impressed on the soul of man; to a divine reve-
lation disseminated and handed down from one
generation to another, or to the deductions of
human reason — it forms a strong presumption,
and a powerful argument, in favor of the position
we are now endeavoring to support. If it is to be
traced back to the original progenitors of man-
kind, it must be regarded as one of those truths
which were recognized by man in a state of inno-
cence, when his affections were pure, and his un-
derstanding fortified against delusion and error.
If it be asentimentwhich was originally impressed
on the human soul by the hand of its Creator, we
do violence to the law of our nature, when we dis-
regard its intimations, or attempt to resist the force
of its evidence. If it ought to be considered as
originally derived from Revelation, then it is cor-
roborative of the truth of the Sacred Records, in
which "life and immortality" are clearly exhibit-
ed. And, if it be regarded as likewise one of the
deductions of natural reason, we are left without
excuse, if we attempt to obscure its evidence, or
to overlook the important consequences which it
involves.- -As the consent of all nations has been
generally considered as a powerful argument for
the exif :ence of a deity, so the universal belief of
mankind in the doctrine of a future state ought
to be viewed as a strong presumption that It is
foun Jed upon truth. The human mind is so con-

12

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

■tituted, that, when left to its nativ«3 uubiiised
energies, it necessarily infers the existence of a
Supreme Intelligence, from the existence of mat-
ter, and the economy of tlie material world; and,
from the nature of the human faculties, and the
moral attriuutesof God, it is almost as infallibly led
to conclude that a future existence is necessary, in
order to gratify the boundless desires of the human
soul, and to vindicate the wisdom and rectitude of
tlie moral Governor of the world. These two
grand truths, whicli constitute the foundation of
all religion, and of everything that is interesting to
man as an intelligent agent, are interwoven with
tlie theological creed of all nations; and. in almost
every instance, where the one is called in question,
the other is undermined ordenied: so that the doc-
trine of the immortality of man may be consider-
ed as resting on the same foundation as the exist-
ence of a Supreme Intelligence.

It must indeed be admitted, that individuals
have aj)peared in every age, who have endeavored
to call in question, or to deny, this fundamental
truth. But this circumstance forms no valid ob-
jection to the force of the argument to which I
have now adverted. For the number of such per-
sons has been extremely small, when compared
with the mass of mankind; and their opinions on
this subject have generally originated either from
willful ignorance; from an afTectalion of singulari-
ty and of appearing superior to vulgar fears; or
from indulging in a course of wickedness and im-
piety, which has led them to wish, and if possible
to believe, that there are neither punishments nor
rewards beyond the grave. If it appears strange
and unnatural that any man should wish his soul
to be mortal, Hierocles assigns the true reason of
it: "A wicked man," says he, "is afraid of his
judge, and therefore wishes his soul and body may
perish together by death, rather than it should ap-
pear before the tribunal of God." If a number of
fools shouJd think fit to put out their own eyes, to
prevent them from feeling the effects of light, as
Democritus, the ancient philosopher, was said to
have done,it would form no argument to prove that
all the rest of the world was blind. And, if a few
•keptics and profligates endeavor to blind the eyes
of their understanding by sophistry and licentious-
ness, it cannot prevent the light of reason, which
unvails the realities of a future world, from shin-
ning on the rest of mankind, nor constitute the
slightest argument to prove the fallacy of the
doctrine they deny.

SECTION II.

On the desire of future existexce implanted
i.\ the humajc mind.

Those strong and restless desires after future
existence and enjoyment, which are implanted in
the soul of man, are a strong presumptive proof
that he is possessed of an immortal nature.

There is no human being who feels full satis-
faction in his present enjoyments. The mind is
forever on the wing in the pursuit of new ac-
quirements, of new objects, and, if possible, of
higher degrees of felicity, than the present mo-
ment can afford. However exquisite any particu-
lar enjoyment may sometimes be found, it soon
begins to lose its relish, and to pall the intellec-
tual appetite. Hence the voracious desire, appa-
rent among i<il ranks, for variety of amusements,
koth of a seucitive, and of an intellectual nature.

Hence the keen desire for novelty, for tales of
wonder, for beautiful and splendid exhibitiona,
and for intelligence respecting the passing occur-
rences of the day. Hence the eagerness with
which the daily newspapers are read by all ranks
who have it in their power to procure them.
However novel or interesting the events which
are detailed to-day, an appetite for fresh intelli-
gence is excited before to-morrow. Amidst the
numerous objects which are daily soliciting at-
tention, amiust the variety of intelligence which
newsmongers have carefully selected for the
gratification of every taste, and amidst the ficti-
tious scenes depicted by the novelist and the poet
— "the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the
ear with hearing." Hence, too, the insatiable de-
sires of the miser in accumulating riches, and the
unremitting career of ambition, in its pursuit of
honors and of fame. And hence the ardor with
which the philosopher prosecutes one discovery after
another, without ever arriving at a resting-point,
or silting down contented with his present attain-
ments. When Archimedes had discovered the
mode of determining the relative quantities of gold
and silver in Hiero's crown, did he rest satisfied
with this new acqnirpment? No. The ecstasy
he felt at the discovery, when he leaped from the
bath and ran naked through the streets of Syra-
cuse, crying, "I have found it, I have found it"
— soon subsided into indifference, and his mind
pushed forward in quest of new discoveries.
When Newton ascertained the law of universal
gravitation, and Franklin discovered the identity
of lightning and the electric fluid, and felt the
transports which such discoveries must have ex-
cited, did they slacken their pace in the road of
scientific discovery, or sit down contented wih
their past researches? No. One discovery gave
a stimulus to the pursuit of another, and their
career of improvement only terminated with their
lives. After Alexander had led his victorious
armies over Persia, Babylonia, Syria, Egypt, and
India, and had conquered the greater part of the
knovrn world, did he sit down in peace, and en-
joy the fruit of his conquests? No. His desires
after new projects, and new expeditions, remained
insatiable ; his ambition rose even to madness ;
and when the philosopher Anaxarchus told him,
there was an infinite number of worlds, he wept
at the thought that his conquests were confined
to one.

These restless and unbounded desires are to be
found agitating the breasts of men of all nations,
of all ranks and conditions in life. If we ascend
the thrones of princes, if we enter the palaces of
the great, if v.e walk through the mansions of
courtiers and statesmen, if we pry into the abodes
of poverty and indigence, if we mingle with poets
or philosophers, with manufacturers, merchants,
mechanics, peasants, or beggars ; if we survey
the busy, bustling scene of a large city, the se-
questered village, or the cot which standa in the
lonely desert — we shall find, in every situationj
and among every class, beings animated with de-
sires of happiness, which no present enjoyment
can gratify, and which no object within the limits
of time can fully satiate. Whether we choose to
indulge in ignorance, or to prosecute the path of
knowledge; to loiter in indolence, or to exert our
active powers with unremitting energy; to min-
gle with social beings, or to flee to the haunts of
solitude, — we feel a vacuum in the mind, which no-
thing around us can fill up ; a longing after new
objects and enjoyments, which nothing earthly
can fully satisfy. Regardless of the past, and
unsatisfied with the present, the soul of maa

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

13

feasts itself on the hope of enjoyments which it
has nevei yet possessed.

" Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never i.v, but always to be blest.
The soul uneasy, anil confined from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to eome."

Tliat the uesire of immortality is common, and
natural to all men, appears from a variety of ac-
tiuuf, which can scarcely be accounted for on
any otiior principle, and whicli prove that the
niiud feels conscious of its immortal destiny.
Wlij', otherwise, should men be anxious about
thftir reputation', and soHcitous to secure their
names from oblivion, and to perpetuate their fame,
after they liave descended into the grave? To
accomplish such objects, and to gratify such de-
sires, poets, orators, and historians, have been flat-
tered and rewarded to celebrate their actions;
monuments of marble and of brass have been
erected to represent their persons, and inscriptions,
engraved in the solid rock, to convey to future
generations a record of the exploits they had
achieved. Lofty columns, triumphal arches,
towering pyramids, magnificent temples, palaces,
and mausoleums have been reared, to eternize
their fame, and to make them live, as it were, in
the eyes of their successors, through all the fu-
ture ages of time. But, if the soul be destined to
destruction at the hour of death, why should man
be anxious about what shall happen, or what
shall not happen hereafter, when he is reduced to
a mere non-entity, and banished forever from the
universe of God? He can have no interest in
any events that may befall the living world when
he is canceled from the face of creation, and
whei. the spark of intelligence he possessed is
quenched in everlasting night. If any man be
fully convinced that the grave puts a final period
to his existence, the only consistent action he can
perform, when he finds his earthly wishes and ex-
pectations frustrated, is to rush into the arms of
death, and rid himself at once of all the evils con-
nected with his being. But we find the great ma-
jority of mankind, nowithstanding the numerous
fUs to which they are subjected, still clinging with
eagerness to their mortal existence, and looking
forward, with a certain degree of hope, to a ter-
mination of their sorrows.

— " They rather choose to bear those ills they have,
Than fly to others that they know not of."

There is, I presume, no individual in a sound
state of mind, who can entirely throw aside all
concern about his posthumous reputation, and
about the events that may happen in the world
after his decease. And if so, it clearly demon-
strates, not only that he does not wish, but that he
does not even suppose that his existence will be
forever extinguished at death. The idea of the
shame of being exposed naked after their death,
produced such a powerful elTect upon the minds
of the Milesian virgins, that it deterred them from
putting an end to their lives, after all other argu-
ments had been tried in vain.* The desire of ex-
istence— and of existence, too, which has no ter-
mination, appears to be the foundation of all our
desires, and of all the plans we form in life. An-
nihilation cannot be an object of desire to any
rational being. We desire something that is real,

• " I beseech men for God's sake (says Hale), that if at
«ny time there arise in them a desire or a wish that others
chould speak well of their death; then at that time they
would seriously consider, whether those motions are not
from some spirit to continue a spirit, after it leaves its earth-
ly habitation, rather than from an earthly spirit, a vapor
which cannot act, or imagine, oi desire, or fear things he-
food its coutiaaiioce."

something that is connected with happiness or en-
joijment, but non-existence has no object nor con-
cern whatever belonging to it. When a wicked
man, under a consciousness of guilt, indulges a
wish for annihilation after deatii, it is not because
non-existence is in itself an object of desire, but he
would choose it as the least of two evils: he would
rather be blotted out of creation, than suffer the
punishment due to his sins in the eternal world.

It mav also be remarked, that the desire of im-
mortality, however vigorous it may be in ordi-
nary nunds, becomes still more glowing and ar-
dent in proportion as the intellect is cidtivated
and expanded, and in proportion as the soul rises
to liigher and higher degrees of virtue and moral
excellence. It forms a powerful stimulus to the
performance of actions which are noble, gener-
ous, public-spirited, benevolent, and humane, and
which have a tendency to promote the intellectual
improvement, and the happiness of future gener-
ations. Hence the most illustrious characters of
the heathen world, the poets, the orators, the
moralists and philosophers of antiquity, had their
minds fired with the idea of immortality, and
many of them were enabled to brave death with-
out dismay, under the conviction that it was the
messenger which was to waft their spirits to the
realms of endless bliss. When Demosthenes had
fled for shelter to an asylum from the resentment
of Antipater, who had sent Archias to bring him
by force, and when Archias promised upon his
honor that he should not lose his life, if he would
voluntarily make his personal appearance: — " God
forbid," said he, " that after I have heard Xeno-
crates and Plato discourse so divinely on the im-
mortality of the soul, I should prefer a life of
infamy and disgrace to an honorable death."
Even those who were not fully convinced of the
doctrine of immortality, amidst all their doubts
and perplexities on this point, earnestly xvished
that it might prove true, and f >w, if any of them,
absolutely denied it. Hence, too, the noble and
disinterested actions which Christian heroes have
performed, under the influence of unseen and
everlasting things. They have faced dangers and
persecutions in every shape; they have endured
"cruel mockings,scourgings, bonds, and imprison-
ments;" they have triumphed under the torments
of the rack, and amidst the raging flames; they
have surmounted every obstacle in their benevo-
lent exertions to communicate blessings to their
fellow-men ; they have braved the fury of the
raging elements, traversed sea and land, and
pushed their way to distant bar'narous climes, in
order to point out to their benighted inhabitants
the path that leads to eternal life. Nor do they
think it too dear to sacrifice their lives in such
services, since " they desire a better country," and
feel assured that death will introduce them to
"an exceeding great and an eternal weight of
glory."

Since, then, it appears that the desire of immor-
tality is common to mankind, that the soul is in-
cessantly looking forward to the enjoyinent of
some future good, and that this desire has beeu
the spring of actions the most beneficent, and he-
roic, on what principle is it to be accounted for?

"TAHience springs this pleasing hope, inis fond desire,
This longing after immortality?
Or, whence this secret dre-ul, an6 inward horror.
Of falling into naught? — Why sli.mks the soul
Hack on herself, and startles at a struction?"

Whence proceeds the want we feel amidst the
variety of objects which surround us? Whence
arises the disgust that so quickly succeeds every
enjoyment? Wherefore ciiuwe never cease frou)

14

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE

wishing for something more exquisite than we
have ever yet possessed? No satisfactory answer
can be given to such questions, if our duration be
circumscril)ed within the limits of time; and if
■we shall be blotted out of creation when our earth-
ly tabernacles are laid in the dust. The desires
to wiiicii I now refer appear to be an essential
jiart of tiie human constitution, and, consequently,
were implanted in our nature by the hand of our
Creator; — and, therefore, we must suppose, either
tliat the desire of immortality, will be gratified,
or that the Creator takes delight in tantalizing his
creatures with hopes and expectations which will
end in eternal disappointment. To admit the lat-
lersupposition, would be inconsistent with every
rational idea we can form of the moral attributes
of the Divinity. It would be inconsistent with
his veracity; for to encourage hopes and desires
which are never intended to be gratified, is the
characteristic of a deceiver, and therefore contrary
to everv conception we can form of the conduct
of "a God of truth." It would be inconsistent
with his rectitude; for every such deception im-
plies an act of injustice toward the individual who
is thus tantalized. It would be inconsistent with
his wisdom; for it would imply that he has no
other means of governing the intelligent creation,
than those which have a tendency to produce fal-
lacious hopes and fears in the minds of his rational
offspring. It would be inconsistent with his be-
nevolence; for as "the desire accomplished is sweet
to the soul," so disappointed hopes uniformly
tend to produce misery. Yet the benevolence of
the Deity, in every other point of view, is most
strikingly displayed in all his arrangements in the
material univei-se, and toward every species of
sensitive existence.

What has been now stated in relation to desire
and hope, will equally apply to those fears, and
apprehensions, which frequently arise in the mind
in reference to the punishments of a future world.
A Being possessed of perfect benevolence cannot
be supposed to harass his intelligent creatures, and
to render their lives bitter with alarming appre-
hensions, for which there is not the slightest foun-
dation. But, if there is no state either of pun-
ishment or reward beyond the grave, those desires
of immortal duration, which seem at first view to
elevate man above the other inhabitants of this
globe, actually place him below the level of the
beasts, which bound through the forests and lawns,
and find their chief enjoyment in browsing on
the grass. They are alive to present enjoyment,
but appear to have no anticipations of the future;
they feel present pain, but there is no reason to
believe that they are ever tormented with fears
or forebodings of future punishment. They are
contented with the organs with which Nature has
furnished them; they appear fully satisfied with
ranging the fields and feasting on the herbage;
their desires need no restraint, and their wishes
are completely gratified; and what pleased them
yesterday, will likewise give them pleasure to-
morrow, w^ithout being harassed with insatiable
desires after novelty and variety. They live divest-
ed of those innumerable cares and anxieties which
harass and perplex the children of men, and they
never wish to go beyond the boundary which na-
ture prescribes. "The ingenious bee constructs
commodious cells, but never dreams of rearing
triumphal arches, or obelisks to decorate her wax-
en city." Through ignorance of the future, they
pass from life to death, with as much indiiference
as from watching to sleep, or from labor to repose.
But man, amidst all the enjoyments and prospects
which surround him, feels uneasy and unsatisfied,

because he pants after happiness infinite In da-
ration. His hopes and desires overstep the bound*
of time and of every period we can affix to dura-
tion, and move onward through a boundless cter
nity. And if ho is to be forever cut off flora
existence, when his body drops into the grave, how
dismal the continued apprehension of an everlast-
ing period being ])ut to all his enjoyments after a
prospect of immortality has been opened tv hia
view!

How, then, shall we account for these anoma-
lies? How shall we reconcile these apparent in-
consistencies? In what light shall we exhibit the
conduct of the Creator, so as to render it consist-
ent with itself? There is but one conclusion we
can form, in consistency with the moral attributes
of God, which will completely unravel the mys-
tery of man being animated with unbounded de-
sires, and yet confined to a short and limited dura-
tion in the present world, and that is, — that this
world is not the place of our final destination, but
introductory to a more glorious and permanent
state of existence, where the desires of virtuous
minds will be completely gratified, and their hopes
fully realized. I do not see how any other con-
clusion can be drawn, without denying both the
moral character, and even the very existence of tha
Deit}'.

SECTION III.

On the ixtellectuai, faculties of man, anb
the strong desire of knowleuge which is im
planted in the huiman mind.

The principle of curiosity, or the strong desirt
of knowledge which is implanted in the mind of
man, and the noble intellectual faculties fo;
acquiring it with vi^hich he is endowed, an
evidences and proofs of his immortal deslina
tion.

Though this argument may be considered, >.|r
some, as only a branch of the preceding, it rw^
not be inexpedient, for the sake of impressior.- tr
consider it separately, as it will admit of reaso 'ings
and illustrations distinct from those whicl havo
now been brought forward.

The desire of knowledge is natural to ev.'ry ra-
tional being, and appears to be a fundanv tijcil part
of the constitution of the human mind, h is per-
ceptible even in the first stage of its pjrfrress, and
has a powerful influence over the mov jjnents and
the enjoyments of the young. Fre'!<^ril to a child a
beautiful landscape, as exhibited through an op-
tical machine, and it will be highly deliglited with,
the exhibition. Present a second and a third of a
different description, in succession, and its de-
light will be increased ; it will anxiously desire
exhibitions of new and varied objects, and its
curiosity will never be satisfied but v.-ith a con-
stant succession of scenes and objects v.'hich tend
to widen the circle of its knowledge, and enlarge
the capacity of its mind. Hence the keen desires
of the young for shows, spectacles, processions
and public exhibitions of every description, and
the delight which they feel in making excursions
from one scene to another. Hence the delight
with which travelers traverse the Alpine scnnes
of nature, cross seas and oceans, descend into the
gloomy subterraneous cavern, or climb to the
summit of the flaming volcano, notwithstand-
ing the fatigues and perils to which tiiey are ex
posed.

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

15

"For sncli the Viountcous providence of Heaven,
In every iireast iiiiplaiilin;; the desire
Orolijects new anil str:inj;e, to urge us on
Willi unremiued labor to pursue
Those saureil stores that wail the ripening soul,
In Truth s exhaustless hosom.

-For this tlie darin" yonth

Breaks tVoni liis weeping mother's anxious arms.
In fjreign climes to rove; llie pensive sage
Heecllt;«s of sleep, or miilniglit's harmful damp.
Hangs o'er the sickly taper; and uniired
The virgin follows with enchanted step
The ni.i/ies ol some wild and wondrous tale,
From morn to eve." Jlkeiiside.

If the desire of knowledge appears, in many
instances, to be less ardent in after life, it is owing
in a great nioasure to the methods of our educa-
tion, and the false principles on whicli we attempt
to convey instruction to the youthful nnnd. Our
Initiatory instructions, hitherto, present the young
with little more than the key of knowledge, in-
stead of knowledge itself. We lead them to the
threshold of the temple of science without at-
tempting to unfold its treasures. We deem it
6ufficieiit that they be taught to pronounce, like
a number of puppets, a multitude of sounds and
terms to which they attach no distinct concep-
tions, wiiile we decline to communicate clear and
well-defined ideas. We load their memories with
technical phrases and propositions which they do
not understand, while the objects of substantial
science are carefully concealed both from the eye
of sense and from the eyes of their understand-
ings. Instead of leading them by gentle steps,
in the first stage of their progress, over the grand,
and beautiful, and variegated scenery of Nature
and Revelation, where almost every object is calcu-
lated to arrest their attention, and to excite ad-
miration,— we confound them with an unintel-
ligible jargon of grammar rules, of metaphysical
Bubtleties, and of dead languages, associated with
stripes, confinement, and painful recollections,
which frequently produce a disgust at every-
thing which has acquired the name of learning,
before they are made acquainted with that in
which true knowledge consists. Yet, notwith-
standing the injudicious methods by which we
attempt to train the youthful intellect, it is im-
possible to eradicate the desire of knowledge from
the human mind. When substantial knowledge
is presented to the mind, in a judicious and al-
luring manner, it will not only be relished, but
prosecuted with ardor, by every one whose facul-
ties are not altogether immersed in the mire of
sensuality. Let a man, however ignorant and
untutored, be made acquainted vi^ith some of the
interesting details of Geography, with the won-
ders of the ocean, and the numerous rivers con-
tinually rolling into its abyss, with the lofty
ranges of mountains which stretch along the
continents, and project their summits beyond the
clouds, with the volcanoes, the tornadoes, the
water-spouts, and the sublime and beautiful land-
scapes which diversify the different climates of
the earth; with the numerous tribes of animated
beings which people its surface, and the manners
and customs of its human inhabitants — he will
feel an eager desire to know everything else that
appertains to this subject, and will prosecute his
Inquiries with avidity, in so far as his means and
opportunities permit. Acquaint him with some
of the most striking facts in ancient and modern
history, and he will feel a desire to know every-
thing of importance that has occurred in the an-
nals of the world since the commencement of
time. Unfold to him some of the discoveries
which have been made in relation to the consti-
tutioa of the atmosphere, the electric, magnetic,

and galvanic fluids, and the chemical changes
and operations that are constantly going on in the
animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms, and his
curiosity will be strongly excited to penetrate
still farther into the mysteries of nature. Direct
his views to the concave of the firmament, and
tell him of the vast magnitude of the sun, and
the planetary globes, the amazing velocity with
which they run their destined rounds, and of the
immense number and distances of the stars — and
he will eagrrly pant after more minute informa-
tion respecting the great bodies of the universe,
and feel delighted at hearing of new discoveries
being made in the unexplored regions of crea-
tion.

I never knew an instance in which knowledge
of this description was communicated in a ration-
al, distinct, and alluring manner, where it was
not received with a certain degree of pleasure, and
with an ardent desire to make further investiga-
tions into the wonders of creating wisdom and
power. Such appears to be the original constitu-
tion of the human mind, that it is necessarily
gratified with everything tliat gives scope to the
exercise of its faculties, and which has a tendency
to extend the range of their action. It is true,
indeed, that, in some men, the desire of know-
ledge appears to be blunted and almost annihi-
lated, so that they appear to be little superior in
their views to the lower orders of sensitive exis-
tence. But this happens only in those cases
where the intellectual faculties are benumbed and
stupefied by indolence and sensuality. Such per-
sons do all they can to counteract the original pro-
pensities of their nature; and yet even in the
worst cases of this kind that can occur, the ori-
ginal desire is never altogether extirpated, so long
as the senses are qualified to perform their func-
tions. For the most brutish man is never found
entirely divested of the principle of curiosity,
when any striking or extraordiuary object is pre-
sented to his view. On such an occasion, the ori-
ginal principles of his constitution will be roused
into -action, and he will feel a certain degree of
wonder and delight in common with other rational
minds.

And, as man has a natural desire after know-
ledge, and a delight in it — so, he is furnished with
noble faculties and vast capacities of intellect for en-
abling him to acquire, and to treasure it up. He
is furnished with senses calculated to convey ideas
of the forms, qualities, and relations of the various
objects which surround him. His sense of vision,
in particular, appears to take in a wider range of
objects, than that of any other sensitive being.
While some of the lower animals have their vision
circumscribed within a circle of a few yards or
inches in diameter, the eye of man can survey, at
one glance, an extensive landscape, and penetrate
even to the regions of distant worlds. To this
sense we are indebted for our knowledge of the
sublimest objects which can occupy the mind, and
for the ideas we have acquired of the boundless
range of creation. And, while it is fitted to trace
the motions of mighty worlds, which roll at the
distance of a thousand millions of miles, it is also
so constructed, as to enable him, with the assist-
ance of art, to survey the myriads of living beings
which people a drop of water. All his other
senses are likewise calculated to extend the range
of his knowledge, to enable him to communicate
his ideas to others, and to facilitate the mutual in-
terchanges of thought and sentiment between
rational minds of a similar construction with hifl
own. I

His understanding is capable of taking in a vast.

16

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

variety of sentiments and ideas in relation to tlie
immense inultiplicity of objects wiiicU are per-
ceived by iiis external senses. Hence tlie various
sciences lie lias cultivated, the sublime discoveries
he has made, and the noble inventions he has
brought to light. By the powers of his under-
staiuiing-, he has surveyed the terraqueoiVs globe,
in all its varieties of land and water, c*>ntinents,
islands, ;iiid oceans; deteniiiiied its magnitude, its
Weight, its figure and motions; explored its interi-
or recesses, descended into the bottom of its seas,
arranged and classified the infinite variety of vege-
tables, minerals, and animals which it contains,
analyzed the invisible atmosphere with which it is
purrounded, and determined the elementary prin-
cijilcs of which it is composed, discovered the na-
ture of thunder, and arrested the rapid lightnings
in their course, ascertained the laws by which the
planets are directed in their courses, weighed
the masses of distant worlds, determined their size
and distances, and explored regions of the universe
invisible to the unassisted eye, whose distance ex-
ceeds all human calculation and comprehension.
The sublime sciences of Geometry, Trigonome-
try, Conic Sections, Fluxions, Algebra, and other
branches of Mathematics, evince the acuteness
and perspicacity of his intellect; and their appli-
cation to the purposes of Navigation and Geogra-
phy, and to the determination of the laws of the
celestial motions, the periods of their revolutions,
their eclipses, and the distances at which they are
placed from our sublunary mansion, demonstrate
the vigor and comprehension of those reasoning
faculties with which he is endowed.

By means of the instruments and contrivances
which his inventive faculty has enabled him to
form and construct, he can transport ponderous
masses across the ocean, determine the exact posi-
tion in which he is at any time placed upon its
surface, direct his course along pathless deserts
and through the billows of the mighty deep; —
transform a portion of steam into a mechanical
power for impelling wagons along roads, and large
vessels with great velocity against wind and tide;
and can even transport himself through tlie yield-
ing air beyond the region of the clouds. He can
explore the invisible worlds which are contained
in a putrid lake, and bring to view their numerous
and diversified inhabitants; and the next moment
he can penetrate to regions of the universe im-
measurably distant, and contemplate the moun-
tains and the vales, the rocks and the plains which
diversify the scenery of distant surrounding worlds.
He can extract an invisible substance from a piece
of coal, by which he can produce, almost in a mo-
ment, the most splendid illumination throughout
every part of a large and populous city, — he can
detach the element of fire from the invisible air,
and cause the hardest stones, and the heaviest
metals to melt like wax under its powerful agency;
and he can direct the lightnings of heaven to ac-
complish his purposes, in splitting immense
stones into a multitude of fragments. He can
cause a splendid city, adorned with lofty columns,
palaces, and temples, to arise in a spot where
nothing was formerly beheld but a vast desert or
a putrid marsh; and can make "the wilderness
and the solitary place to be glad, and the desert to
bud and blossom as the rose." He can communi-
cate his thoughts and sentiments in a few hours,
to ten hundred thousands of his fellow-men; in a
few weeks, to the whole civilized world; and, after
his decease, he can diffuse important instructions
among mankind, throughout succeeding genera-
tions— In short, he can look back, and trace the
most memorable events which have happened in

the world since time began; he can survey th»
present aspect of the moral world among all na-
tions;— he can penetrate beyond the limits of all
that is visible in tlie immense canopy of heaven,
and range amidst the infinity of unknown systems
and worlds dispersed throughout the boundless
regions of creation, and he can overleap the bounds
of time, and expatiate amidst future scenes of
beauty and sublimity, which "eye hath not seen,"
throughout the countless ages of eternity.

What an immense multitude of ideas, in rela-
tion to such subjects, must the mind of such a
person as Lord Bacon have contained ! whose
mental eye surveyed the whole circle of human
science, and who pointed out the path by which
every branch of knowledge may be carried toward
perfection ! How sublime and diversified must
have been the range of thought pursued by the
immortal Newton I whose capacious intellect
seemed to grasp the vast system of universal na-
ture, who weighed the ponderous masses of tha
planetary globes, and unfolded the laws by which
their diversified phenomena are produced, and
their motions directed !

'•He, while on this dim spot, where mortals toil,
Clouded in dust, — from Motion's simjde laws
Could trace the secret hand of Providence,
Wide- working through this universal frame.
— All intellectual eye, our solar round
First gazing througli, he, by the blended power
Of Gravitation and Projection, saw
The whole in silent harmony revolve.
— Then breaking hence, he took his ardent flight
Through the blue infinite, and every star
Which the clear concave of a winter's night
Pours on the eye, or astronomic tube, —

. at his app'OTch

Blazed into suns, the living center each
Of an harmonious system."

Such minds as those of Socrates, Plato, Archl«
medes, Locke, Boyle, La Place, and similar illus*
trious characters, likewise demonstrate the vast
capacity of the human intellect, the extensive
range of thought it is capable of prosecuting, and
the immense number of ideas it is capable of ac-
quiring. And every man, whoso faculties are in
a sound state, is endowed with similar powers of
thought, and is capable of being trained to similar
degrees of intellectual excellence.

And as man is endued with capacious intel-
lectual powers for the acquisition of knowledge,
so he is furnished with a noble faculty by which
he is enabled to retain, and to treasure up in his in-
tellect the knowledge he acquires. He is endow-
ed with the faculty of memonj, by which the mind
retains the ideas of past objects and perceptions,
accompanied with a persuasion, that the objects
or things remembered were formerly real and
present. Withoirt tliis faculty we could never
advance a single step in the path of mental im-
provement. If the information we originally de-
rive through the medium of tlie senses were to
vanish the moment the objects are removed from
our immediate perception, we should be left as de-
void of knowledge as if we had never existed.
But, by the power of memory, we can treasure up,
as in a storehouse, the greater part, if not the
whole of the ideas, notions, reasonings, and per-
ceptions which we formerly acquired, and render
them subservient to our future progress in intel-
lectual attainments. And it is probable, that even
a human spirit, in the vigorous exercise of the
faculties with which it is now furnished, may go
forward, through an interminable duration, mak-
ing continual accessions to its stores of knowledge
witliout losing one leading idea, or portion of iu
formation which it had previously acquired.

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

17

TJio power of memory in retaining past impres-
^ Bions, and its susceptihilily of improvement, are
vastly greater tlian is generally imagined. In
Hiany incividuals, both in ancient and in modern
times, it has been found in such u state of perfec-
tion, as to excite astonishment, and almost to
transcend belief. It is reported of Seneca, that he
could repeat two thousand verses at once, in their
order, and then begin at the end and rehearse them
backAard, without missing a single syllable. Cy-
rus Is said to have been able to call every indi-
vidual of his numerous army by his own name.
Cyneas, who was sent by Pyrrhus to the Senate
at Rome, on an expedition, the very next day after
his arrival, both knew and also saluted by their
names, all the Senate, and the whole order of the
gentlemen in Rome. Milhridates, who governed
twenty-three nations, all of different languages,
could converse with every one of them in their
own language.* An ancient author mentions one
Oritus, a Corsican boy, to whom he dictated a
great number of words both sense and nonsense,
and finding he could relieaise a considerable num-
ber without missing one, and in the same order in
which he dictated them, increased them to the
number of forty thousand, and found, to his as-
tonishment, that he could repeat them all from be-
ginning to end, or from the end backward to the
beginning, in the order in which they were dictated.

In modern times, there have likewise been
many instances of extraordinary powers of re-
tention. Dr. Wallis, in a paper in the Philosophi-
cal Transactions, informs us that he extracted the
cube root of the number three, even to thirty
places of decimals, by the help of his memory
alone. Maglia Bethi, an Italian, had read all the
books that were published in his lifetime, and
most of those which were published before, and
eould not only give an account of what was con-
tiiined in each author, but could likewise, from
memory, quote the chapter, section, and page of
any book he had read, and repeat the author's
own words, in reference to any particular topic.
A gentleman, in order to try his memory, lent
him a long manuscript he was about to publish,
and after it had been returned, called upon him
soon afterward, pretending he had lost it, and de-
sired him to write as much of it as he could re-
member ; when, to his surprise, he wrote it over
accurately word for word, the same as in the
manuscript he had lent him. M. Euler, a late
celebrated mathematician and philosopher, who
died in 1783, having lost his sight by too intense
application to study, afterward composed his
"Elements of Algebra," and a work " On the
inequalities of the planetary motions," that re-
quired immense and complicated calculations,
which he performed by his memory alone, to the
admiration and astonishment even of the philoso-
phic world. His memory seemed to retain every
idea that was conveyed to it, either from reading or
from meditation, and his powers of reasoning and of
discrimination were equally acute and capacious.
He was also an excellent classical scholar, and
could repeat the .iEneid of Visgil from the begin-
ning to the end, and indicate the first and last
line of every page of the edition he used.t I
have conversed with an individual, who was
born blind, and who could repeat the whole of
the Old and New Testaments from beginning to
end ; and not only so, but could repeat any par-
ticular chapter or vcj-se that might be proposed to
him, the moment after it was specified.

Thus it appears that man is not only possessed

• Senec. Controvers., Lib. 1, Pliny's Nat. Hist., &c.
t Encyclopedia BriUn., Art. Euler,

of an ardent desire after knowledge, but is en-
dued with the most penetrating and capacious
powers of intellect, both for acquiring and for
treasuring it up in his mind — powers which ap-
pear susceptible of indefinite improvement in this
world; and the legitimate inference that may b«
drawn fiom this, is, tiiat they will continue to be
exerted with uninterrupted activity, throughout
an unceasing duration. And, is it possible to sup-
pose, in consistency vvitli the moral attributes of
the Deity, that the exercise of such powers is in-
tended to bo confined witliin the narrow limits of
time, and to the contracted sphere of the terra-
queous globe?

' Say, can a soul possess'd

Of such extensive, deep, tremeiulons powers
Enlarging still, be but a liner breath
Of spirits dancing through their tubes awhile,
And then forever lost in vacant air 7"

Such a conclusion never can be admitted while
we recognize the divinity as possessed of bound-
less goodness and unerring wisdom. It is the
province of goodness to gratify those pure and ar-
dent desires which it has implanted in the soul;
and it is the part of wisdom to proportionate
means to ends. But if the whole existence of
human beings had been intended to be confined
to a mere point in duration, is it rational to sup-
pose, that Infinite Wisdom would have endowed
the human soul with powers and capacities so
marvelous and sublime, and made so many great
preparations and arrangements for promoting its
physical and moral perfection? To acquiesce iu
such a supposition, would be to degrade the di-
vine wisdom and intelligence below the level of
the wisdom of man, and to impute imperfection
and folly to Him who is " the only wise God."
For, in the conduct of human beings, we uni-
formly regard it as an evidence of folly, when
they construct a complicated and an extravagant
machine, which either accomplishes no end, or
no end worthy of the expense and labor bestow-
ed on its construction. And, therefore, if we
would not ascribe imbecility or want of design to
the adorable Creator of the universe, we must
admit, that he has not formed the soul of man for
this terrestrial scene alone, but has destined it to a
state of progressive improvement, and of endless
duration.

This conclusion will appear still more evident,
if we consider the endless round of business and
care, and the numerous hardships to which the
bulk of mankind are subjected in the present state,
which prevent the full and vigorous exercise of
the intellectual powers on those objects which
are congenial to the ardent desires, and the noble
faculties of the human soul. The greater part of
mankind, in the present circumstances of their
terrestrial existence, have their time and atten-
tion almost wholly absorbed in counteracting the
evils incident to their present condition, and in
making provision for the wants of their animal
natures; and consequently, the full gratification
of the appetite for knowledge, is an absolute im-
possibility, amidst the pursuits and the turmoils
connected with the present scene of things. If
we likewise consider the difficulty of directing
the mind in the pursuit of substantial knowledge,
and the numerous obstructions which occur in
our researches after truth, amidst»the contradicto-
ry opinions, the jarring interests, and the wayward
passions of men, — if we consider the imperfec-
tions of our senses, and the fallacies to which
they are exposed — the prejudices and the passiona
which seduce us into error — how readily we em-
brace a glittering phantom for a substantial truth

18

THE nilLOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

— and how soon our spirits faint under the pres-
sure of intense application to mental pursuits, —
we shall be convinced, tliat, in this sublnnary
sphere, there is no scope for the full exercise of
the intellectual powers, and that the present
world must be only a preparatory scene to a
higher state of existence. Beside, even in those
cases wliere every requisite for the acquisition of
knowledge is possessed — where leisure, wealth,
education, books, instruments, and all the assist-
ances derived from learned associations, are con-
joined with the most splendid intellectual endow-
ments, liow feeble are the efforts of the most
penetrating and energetic mind, and how narrow
the boundary within which its views are confined!
The brightest genius, standing on the highest
eminence to which science can transport him,
contemplates a boundless prospect of objects and
events, the knowledge of which he can never
hope to attain, while he is chained down to the
limits of this terrestrial ball. His mental eye be-
holds an unbounded and diversified scene of ob-
jects, operations, relations, changes, and revolu-
tions, beyond the limits of all that is visible to
the eye of sense: he catches an occasional glimpse
of objects and of scenes which were previously
involved in obscurity, he strains his mental sight,
stretches forward with eagerness to grasp at new
discoveries, descries some openings which direct
his view into the regions of infinity and eternity
■ — is still restless and unsatisfied — perceives all his
knowledge to be mere shreds and patches, or like
a few dim tapers amidst the surrounding gloom
r—is convinced that his present faculties are too
weak and limited, and that he must be raised to a
eiiblimer station, before he can fully grasp the
magnificent objects which lie hid in the unexplor-
ed regions of immensity. All his present views
and prospects are confined within a circle of a
few miles, and all beyond, in the universal sys-
tem, which extends through the immeasurable
tracts of infinite space, is darkness and uncer-
tainty.

Can it, then, be supposed, that a soul furnished
with such noble powers and capacities, capable
of traversing the realm of creation, of opening
new prospects into the unbounded regions of
truth that lie before it, and of appreciating the
perfections of the Sovereign of the universe — a
Boul fired with ardent desires after knowledge,
panting after new discoveries of truth and of the
grandeur of the Divinity, unsatisfied with all its
past attainments, and contemplating a boundless
unexplored prospect before it — should be cast off
from existence, and sink into eternal annihilation,
at the moment when its capacities were just be-
ginning to expand, when its desires were most ar-
dent, and when the scenes of immensity and eter-
nity were just opening to its view? If such a
supposition could be admitted, man would be the
most inexplicable phenomenon in the universe;
his existence an unfathomable mystery; and there
could be no conceivable mode of reconciling his
condition and destination with the wisdom, the
rectitude, and the benevolence of his Creator.*

• Such considerations, as those which I have now adduc-
ed, seem to have made a powerful impression cpon ihe
miads of the philosophers of antiquity. "When I consider,"
says Cicero, " the wonderful activity of the mind, so great a
ir.emor)' of what is past, and such a capacity of penetratinj
into the future; when I behold such a numlJer of arts and
sciences, and such a multitude of discoveries thence arising;
I believe, and am firmly persuaded, that a nature which con-
tains so many things within itselfcannot be mortal." Cicero
de Senectute, Cap. 21. And if this argument appeared
itrong even in Cicero's lime, it has received a vast accession
•f lUength firom the nnmeious aits, sciences, iaventions, and

SECTION IV

On the perpetual progress of T.^E wine TO"
WARD perfection.

As a supplement to the preceding ai-guinerit, it
may be stated, that the soul of man appears to be
capable of making a perpetual progress toirard in'
telleclual and mural perfection, and of eujoyinq fe-
licity in every stage of Us career, mthout the possi-
hility of ever arriving at a boundary to its excur-
sions. In the present state we perceive no limits
to the excursions of the intellect, but those which
arise from its connection with an unwieldly cor-
poreal frame, which is chained down, as it were,
to a mere point, in the inmiensity of creation.
Up to the latest period of its connection with time,
it is capable of acquiring new accessions of know-
ledge, higher attainments in virtue, and more ar-
dent desires after moral perfection; and the in-
finity of the Creator, aitd the immensity of that
universe over which he presides, present a field
in which it may forever expatiate, and an assem-
blage of objects on wliich its powers may be in-
cessantly exercised, without the most distant
prospect of ever arriving at a boundary to inter-
rupt its intellectual career.

As I cannot illustrate this topic in more beau-
tiful and forcible language than has been already
done by a celebrated Essayist, I shall take the
liberty of quoting his words. — "How can it enter
iuK) the thoughts of man," says this elegant wri-
ter, "that the soul, which is capable of such im-
mense perfections, and of receiving new improve-
ments to all eternity, shall fall away into nothing
almost as soon as it is created? Are such abilities
made for no purpose? A brute arrives at a point
of perfection which he can never pass. In a few
years he has all the endowments he is capable of,
and were he to live ten thousand mo^e, would be
the same thing he is at present. Were a human
soul thus at a stand in her accomplishments, were
her faculties to be full blown, and incapable of
further enlargements, I could imagine it might
fall away insensibly, and drop at once into a state
of annihilation. But can we believe a thinking
being, that is in a perpetual progress of improve-
ments, and traveling on from perfection to per-
fection, after having just looked abroad into the
works of the Creator, and made a few discoveries
of his infinite goodness, wisdom and power, must
perish in her first setting out, and in the very be-
ginning of her inquiries?

" A man, considered in his present state, seems
only sent into the world to propagate his kind.
He provides himself with a successor, and im-
mediately quits his post to make room for him:—

Heir urges on his predecessor heir.
Like wave impelling wave.

He does not seem born to enjoy life, but to deli-
ver it down to others. This is not surprising to
consider in animals, which are formed for our use,
and can finish their business in a short life. The
silk-worm, after having spun her task, laj-s her
eggs and dies. But a man can never have taken
in his full measure of knowledge, has not time to
subdue hi? passions, establish his soul in virtue,
and come up to the perfection of his natjire, before
he is hurried off the stage. Would an infinitely
wise Being make such glorious creatures for so
mean a purpose? Can he delight in the produc-
tion of such abortive intelligences, such short-

discoveries, which are peculiar to. the age in which w«
live.

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

19

lireil reasonable beings? Would ho give us talents
thai are not to be exerted? capacities that are
*iiever to be gratified? How can we find tiiat
wisilom, which shines through all his works in tiie
formiliou of man, without looking on this world
as a nursery for the next? and believing that the
several generations of rational creatures, which
rise up and disappear in such quick successions,
are only to receive their first rudiments of exist-
once here, and, afterward to be transplanted into a
more friendly climate, where they may spread and
flourish to all eternity?

"There is not, in my opinion, a more pleasing
and triumphant consideration in religion tlian this,
of the perpetual progress which the soul makes
toward the psrfection of its nature, without ever
ai riving at a period in it. To look upon the soul
as going on from strength to strength; to consider
tliat she is to shine forever with new accessions
of glory, and brighten to all eternitj^ that she will
be still adding virtue to virtue, and knowledge to
knowledge, carries in it something wondejfully
agreeable to that ambition which is natural to the
mind of man. Nay, it must be a prospect pleas-
ing to God himself to see his creation forever
beautifying in his eyes, and drawing nearer to him
by greater degrees of resemblance.

" Methinks this single consideration of the pro-
gress of a finite spirit to perfection will be suffici-
ent to Extinguish all envy in inferior natures, and
all contempt in superior. That cherubim, which
now appears as a god to a human soul, knows
very well that the period will come about in eterni-
ty, when the human soul shall be as perfect as he
himself now is: nay, when she shall look down
upon that degree of perfection as much as she now
fells short of it. It is true the higher nature still
advances, and by that means preserves his dis-
tance and superiority in the scale of being; but
he knows how high soever the station is, of which
he staTids possessed at present, the inferior nature
will at length mount up to it, and shine forth in
the same degree of glory.

"With what astonishment and veneration may
we look into our own souls, where there are such
hidden stores of virtue and knowledge, such inex-
hausted sources of perfection? We know not yet
what we shall be, nor will it ever enter. into the
heart of man to conceive the glorj' that will be
always in reserve for him. The sbul, cpnsidered
with its Creator, is like one of those mathemati-
cal lines that may draw nearer to another for all
eternity without a possibility of touching it: and
can there be a thought so transporting, as to con-
sider ourselves in these perpetual approaches to
Him who is not only the standard of perfection
but of happinessi"*

SECTION V.

On the unlimited range of view which is opened
to the human faculties throughout the im-
mensity of space and of duration.

The unlimited range of view which is opened to
the human imagination throughout the immensity
of space and of duration, and the knowledge we
are capable of acquiring respecting the distant re-
gions of the universe, are strong presumptions and
evidences of the eternal destination of man.

If the universe consisted solely of the globe on

• Spectator, toI. 2.

which we dwell, with its appendages, and weie
the spaces witii which it is surrounded nothing
more than an Immense void, it would not appear
surprising were the existence of man to terminate
in the tomb. After having traversed tliis earthly
ball for eighty or a hundred years, and surveyed
all the varieties on its surface; after having ex-
perienced many of the physical and moral evils
connected with its present constitution, and felt
that "all is vanity and vexation of spirit," and that
no higher prospect, and no further scope for the
exercise of his faculties were presented to view: he
would be ready to exclaim with Job, " I loathe it,
I would not live alway; let me alone, for my days
are vanity: my soul chooseth strangling and death,
rather than my life." To run the same tiresome
round of giddy pleasures, and to gaze perpetually
on the same unvaried objects, from one century
to another, without the hope of future enjoyment,
would afford no gratification commensurate. with
the desires and capacities of the human mind.. Its
powers would languish, its energies would be de-
stroyed, its progress to perfection would be for-
ever interrupted, and it would roam in vain
amidst the surrounding void in quest of objects to
stimulate its activity.

But, beyond the precincts of this earthly scene,
"a wide and unbounded prospect lies before us;"
and the increasing light of modern science has en-
abled us to penetrate into its distant regions, and
to contemplate some of its sublime and glorious
objects. Within the limits of the solar system of
which our world forms a part, there have been
discovered twenty-nine planetary bodies, which
contain a mass of matter more than two thousand
five hundred times greater than the earth, beside
the numerous comets, which are traversing the
planetary regions in all directions, and the im-
mense globe of the sun, which is like a universe
in itself, and which is five hundred times larger
than the earth and all the planets and comets taken
together. These bodies differ from each other in
their magnitude, distances and motions, and in the
scenery with which their surfaces are diversified ;
and some of them are encircled with objects the
most splendid and sublime. They appear to be
furnished with everything requisite for the ac-
commodation of intellectual beings, — are capable
of containing a population many thousands of
times greater than that of our world, and aro
doubtless replenished with myriads of rational in-
habitants. Within the limits of this system the
soul of man would find full scope for the exertion
of all its powers, capacities, and activities, during
a series of ages.

Our views of the universe, however, are not
confined to the system with which we are more
immediately connected. Every star which twin-
kles in the canopy of heaven, is, on good grounds,
concluded to be a sun, and the center of a magnifi-
cent system similar to our own; and perhaps sur-
rounded with worlds more spacious and splendid
tlian any of the planetary globes wli Jch we are per-
mitted to contemplate. Nearly a thousand ot
these sj^stems are visible to every observer, when
he directs his eye, in a clear winter's night, to the
vault of heaven. Beyond all that is visible to the
unassisted ej^e, a common telescope enables us to
discern several thousands more. With higher de-
grees of magnifying power, ten thousands more,
which lie scattered at immeasurable distances be-
yond the former, may still be descried. With
the best instruments which art has hitherto con-
structed, many millions have been detected in the
difTerent regions of the sky — leaving us no room
to doubt, that hundreds of millions moro, which

20

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

BO human eye will ever discern in the present
State, are dispersed tiiroughout the illimitable
tracts of creation. So that no luiiits appear to
the scene of Creating Power, and to that vast em-
pire over which the moral governinent of the Al-
mighty extends. Amidst this boundless scene of
Divine Wisdom and Omnipotence, it is evident,
that the soul might expatiate in the full exercise
of its energies, during ages numerous as the drops
of the oci!au, without ever arriving at a boundary
to interrupt its excursions.

Now, it ought to be carefully remarked, in the
first place, that God endowed the mind of man
with tiiose faculties by which he has been ena-
bled to compute the bulk of the earth, to determine
the size anJ distances of the planets, and to make
all the other discoveries to which I now allude.
In the course of his providence he led the human
mind into that train of thought, and paved the
way for those inventions by means of which the
grandeur and extent of his operations in the distant
regions of space have been opened to our view.
It, therefore, appears to have been his icill and
intention, that the glories of his empire, in the re-
mote spaces of creation, should be, in some mea-
sure, unvailod to the inhabitants of our world.

Again, when the soul has once got a glimpse
of the magnificence and immensity of creation, it
feels the most ardent desire to have the vail, which
now interposes between us and the remote re-
gions of the universe, withdrawn, and to contem-
plate at a nearer distance the splendors of those
worlds whose suns we behold twinkling from afar.
A thousand conjectures and inquiries are suggest-
ed to the mind, in relation to the systems and
worlds which are dispersed through the immensity
of space. Are all those vast globes peopled with
inhabitants? Are they connected together, under
the government of God, as parts of one vast moral
system? Are their inhabitants pure moral intel-
ligences, or are they exposed to the inroads of
physical and moral evil? What are the grada-
tions of rank or of intellect which exist among
them? What correspondence do they carry on
with other provinces of the Divine empire? What
discoveries have they made of the perfections of
Deity, of the plan of his government, and of the
extent of his dominions? With what species of
corporeal vehicles do they hold a correspondence
with the material world? With what organs of
perception and with what powers of intellect are
they furnished? What faculties and organs dif-
ferent from those of man do they possess, and by
what laws are their social intercourses regulated?
Do benignity and love forever beam from their
countenances, and does ecstatic joy perpetually
enrapture their hearts? What capacities for rapid
movement do tliey possess? Are they confined
within the limits of a single globe like ours, or
can they fly from one world to another, on the
wings of a seraph? What magnificent landscapes
adorn the places of their residence? What celes-
tial glories are hung out for their contemplation in
the canopy of heaven? What visible displays of
the presence and agency of their Creator are pre-
sented to their view? By what means are they
carried forward in their progress toward intellec-
tual and moral perfection? What sciences do
they cultivate, — what objects engage their chief
attention — in what solemn and sublime forms of
worship and adoration do they join? What
chaages or revolutions have taken place among
them? W^hat transections does their history re-
cord? W^hat scenes of glory or of terror have been
displayed toward any particular system or pro-
Viuce of this immense empire? Are sin, disease,

and death altogether unknown, and oo their In-
habitants bask forever in the regions of mimortali-
ty? What knowledge do they possess of th»
character and condition of the inhabitants of our
globe, and of the system of which it forms a part?
What variety of sensitive and intellectual beings
is to be found in the different systems of tlie uni-
verse? What diversity of external scenery, su-
perior to all that the eye of man has seen or hia
imagination can conceive, is displayed throughout
the numerous worlds which compose this vast em-
pire? What systems exist, and what scenes of
creating power are displayed in that boundless re-
gion which lies beyond the limits of human vision?
At w'hat period in duration did this mighty fabric
of the universe first arise into existence? What
successive creations have taken place since the
first material world was launched into existence
by the Omnipotent Creator? What new worlds
and beings are still emerging into existence from
the voids of space? Is this mighty expanse of crea-
tion to endure forever, — and to receive new ac-
cessions to its population and grandeur, while
eternity rolls on? What are the grand and ulti-
mate designs to be accomplished by this immense
.assemblage of material and intellectual beings, and
is man never to behold this wondrous scene a little
more unfolded ?

Inquiries of this description, to which no satis-
factory answers can be expected in the present
state, might be multiplied to an indefinite extent.
The soul of man is astonished, overwhelmed and
bewildered at the immensity of the scene which
is opened before it, — and at once perceives, that,
in order to acquire a comprehensive knowledge
of the character and attributes of the Divinity—
to penetrate into the depths of his plans and
operations— and to contemplate the fall glory of his
empire, — ages numerous as the stars of heaven
are requisite, and that, if no future existence
awaits it beyond the grave, its ardent desires af-
ter progressive improvement and felicity, and its
hopes of becoming more fully acquainted with
the universe and its Author, must end in eternal
disappointmeut.

Again, the mind of man is not only animated
with ardent desires after a more full disclosure of
the wonders of this boundless scene, but is en-
dowed with capacities for acquiring an indefnite
extent of knowledge respecting the distant regians
of the universe and the perfections of its Author.
Those who have taken the most extensive excur-
sions through the field of science, still find, that
they are capable of receiving an addition to all
the knowledge they have hitherto acquired on
every subject, and of prosecuting inquiries be-
yondl the range of the visible system, provided the
means of investigation were placed within their
reach. Were a human soul transported to a distant
world, for example, to the regions of the planet Sat-
urn,— were it permitted to contemplate at leisure
the sublime movements of its rings, and the various
phenomena of its moons ; the variety of land-
scapes which diversify its surface, and the celes-
tial scenery which its firmament displays, — were
it to mingle with its. inhabitants, to learn the
laws by which their social intercourse is directed,
the sciences which they cultivate, the worship ia
Vk'hich they engage, and the leading transactions
and events which their history records — it would
find no more difficulty in acquiring and treasur-
ing up such information, than it now does in
acquiring, from the narrative of a traveler, a
knowledge of the customs and manners of an
unknown tribe of mankind, and of the nature of
the geographical territory it possesses. Were aa-

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

21

gelic messengers from a thousand worlds, to be
dispatched, at successive intervals, to our globe,
to describe the natural and moral scenery, and to
narrate the train of Divine dispensations pecu-
liar to each world — there would be ample room
In the human mind for treasuring up such intel-
ligence, notwithstanding all the stores of science
which it may have previously acquired. Sucli
Information would neither annihilate the know-
.edge we hal formerly attained, nor prevent our
further progress in intellectual acquisitions. On
the contrar}', it would enlarge the capacity of the
mfnd, invigorate its faculties, and add a new
Btimulus to its powers and energies. On the
basis of such information, the soul could trace
new aspects, and new displays of Divine wisdom,
intelligence, and rectitude, and acquire more
comprehensive views of the character of God —
just as it docs, in the meantime, from acontem-

f>Iatiou of those objects and dispensations which
ie within its grasp. To such researches, fnves-
tigations, and intellectual progressions, no bonn-
dary can be assigned, if the soul be destined to
survive the dissolution of its mortal frame. It
only requires to be placed in a situation where its
powers will be permitted to expatiate at large,
and where the physical and moral obstructions
which impede their exercise shall be completely
removed.

It may be farther remarked, on the ground of
what has been now stated, that all the knowledge
which can be attained in the present state, is but
as a drop to the ocean, when compared with " the
treasures of wisdom and knowledge" that may
be acquired in the eternal world. The proportion
between the one and the other may bear a cer-
tain analogy to the bulk of the terraqueous globe,
when compared with the immensity of the worlds
and systems which compose the universe. If an
infinite varietij of designs, of objects, and of scenery,
exist in the distant provinces of creation, as we
have reason to believe, from the variety which
abounds in our terrestrial system, — if every world
be peopled with inhabitants of a different species
from those of another, if its physical constitu-
tion and external scenery be peculiar to itself, if
the dispensations of the Creator toward its in-
habitants be such as have not been displayed to
any other world, if " the manifold wisdom of
God," in the arrangement of its destinies, be dis-
played in a manner in which it has never been
displayed to any other class of intelligences; —
and, in short, if every province of creation ex-
hibit a peculiar manifestation of the Deity — we
may conclude, that all tlie knowledge of God, of
his works and dispensations, which can be at-
tained in the present life, is but as the faint
glimmering of a taper when contrasted with the
effulgence of the meridian sun. Those who
have made the most extensive and profound in-
vestigations into the wonders of nature, are the
most deeply convinced of tiieir own ignorance,
and of the boundless fields of knowledge which
remain unexplored. Sir Isaac Newton had em-
ployed the greater part of his life in some of the
Bublimest investigations which can engage the
attention of the human mind, — and yet he de-
clared, a little before his death, " I do not know
what I may appear to the world, but to myself I
seem to have been only like a boy playing on the
Bea shore, and diverting myself in now and then
finding a pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary,
while the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered
before me." And is it reasonabie to believe, that
after a glimpse of the boundless treasures of di-
vine science has flashed upon tlie mind, it is to

pass only a few months or years m anxious de-
sire and suspense, and then be extinguished for-
ever?

It may be farther observed, in connection wi'.h
the preceding remarks — that the creation of suck
a vast universe must hane been ckie/lij intended to
display the perfections of the Deity, and to afford,
gratifi cation and felicity to the intellectual beings he
has formed. The Creator stands in no need of
innumerable assemblages of worlds and of in-
ferior ranks of intelligences, in order to secure or
to augment his felicity. Innumerable ages be-
fore the universe was created, he existed alone,
independent of every other being, and infinitely
happy in the contemplation of his own eternal
excellences. No other reason, therefore, can be
assigned for the production of the universe, but
the gratification of his rational oflTspring, and that
he might give a display of the infinite glories
of his nature to innumerable orders of intelligent
creatures. Ten thousand times ten thousand
suns, distributed throughout the regions of im-
mensity, with all their splendid apparatus of
planets, comets, moons, and rings, can afford no
spectacle of novelty to expand and entertain the
Eternal Mind ; since they all existed, in their
prototypes, in the plans and conceptions of the
Deity, during the countless ages of a past eter-
nity. Nor did ho produce these works for the
improvement and information of no being. This
amazing structure of the universe, then, with all
the sensitive and intellectual enioyments con-
nected with it, must have been chiefly designed
for the instruction and entertainment of subordi-
nate intelligences, and to serve as a mr>gnificent
theater on which the energies of divine power
and wisdom, and the emanations of divine benevo-
lence might be illustriously displayed. And can
we suppose that tlie material universe will exist,
while intelligsnt minds, for whose improvement
it was reared, arc suffered to sink into annihila-
tion?

Again, it cannot ie admitted, in consistency with
ike attributes of God, that he will finally disappoint
the rational hopes and desires of the human soul,
which he himself has implanted and cherished. If
he had no ultimate design of gratifying rational
beings with a more extensive display of the im-
mensity and grandeur of his works, it is not con-
ceivable, that he would have permitted them to
make those discoveries they have already brought
to light respecting the extent and the glory of
his empire. Sucli discoveries could not have
been made without his permission and direction,
or without those faculties and means which ho
himself had imparted. And, tl^efore, in per-
mitting the inhabitants of our world to take a
distant glimpse of the boundless scene of his
operations, he must have intended to excite those
ardent desires which will be gratified in a future
world, and to commence those trains of thought
which will be prosecuted with increasing ardor,
through eternity, until we shall be able to per-
ceive and comprehend the contrivance and skill,
the riches of divine munificence, the vast de-
signs, and the miracles of power and intelligence
which are displayed throughout every ])ait of the
universal system. — To suppose that the Creator
would unfoid a partial and imperfect view of the
wonders of creation, and enkindle a rational
lonfiing and desire, merely for the purpose of
mocking and tantalizing our expectations, would be
to represent the moral character of the Deity as be-
low the level of that of a depraved mortal. It
would argue a species of deceit, of envy, and of
malignity, which is altogether repugnant to iha

22

The philosophy of a future state

character of a Bciiior of infinite benevolence. As
his gooilness was the principal motive which in-
ducoil hi:n to brin<:r us into existence, his conduct
must be infinitely ronioveJ from ev<'rytliing that
approiclies to envy, malignity, or a desire to mock
or disappoint the rational hopes of his creatnres.
His general character, as displayed in all his
works, leads us to conclude, that, in so fur from
tantalizing the rational beings he has formed, he
is both able and willing " to do to and for them
excefding abundantly above all that they can ask
or think." If he had intended merely to confine
our desires to sensitive enjoyments and to the
present life, the habitation of man would have re-
quired no more contrivance nor decoration than
what are requisite for the lion's den and the re-
treats of the tiger, and no farther display of the
grandeur of his empire would have been unfolded
to view.

Since, therefore, it appears, that the universe is
replenished with innumerable systems, and is vast
and unlimited in its extent — since God endued the
mind of man with those faculties by which he has
explored a portion of its distant regions — since the
Boul feels an ardent desire to obtain a more full
disclosure of its.grandeur and magnificence — since
it is endued with faculties capable of receiving an
indefinite increase of knowledge on this subject —
Biuce all the knowledge it can acquire in the pres-
ent state, respecting the operations and the govern-
ment of God, is as nothing when compared with
the prospects which eternity may unfold — since
the universe and its material glories are chiefly
intended for the gratification of intelligent minds
— and since it is obviously inconsistent with the
moral character of the Deity, to cherish desires
and expectations which he will finally frustrate
and disappoint — the conclusion appears to be un-
avoidal)le that man is destined to an immortal exist-
ence. Daring the progress of that existence, his
faculties will arrive at their full expansion, and
there will he ample scope for their exercise on
myriads of objects and events which are just now
vailed in darkness and mystery. He will be en-
abled to penetrate more fully into the plans and
operations of the divinity — to perceive new aspects
of the Eternal Mind, new evolutions' of infinite
wisdom and design, new displays of omnipotence,
goodness, and intelligence — and to acquire a more
minute and comprehensive view of all the attri-
butes of the Deity, and of the connections, rela-
tions, and dependencies, of that vast physical and
moral system over which his government extends.

SECTION VI.
On the moral powers of man.

The moral powers with which man is endued
form a strong presumptive proof of his immortal
destiny.

Man is formed for action, as well as for contem-
plation. For this purpose there are interwoven in
his constitution, powers, principles, instincts, feel-
ings, and affections, which have a reference to his
improvement ir virtue, and which excite him to
promote the iiappiness of others. These powers
and active principles, like the intellectual, are sus-
ceptible of vast improvement, by attention, by
exercise, by trials and difficulties, and by an ex-
pansion of the intellectual views. Such are
filial and fraternal affection, fortitude, temperance,
justice, gratitude, generosity, love of friends and
country, philanthropy, and general benevolence.

Degenerate as our world has always been, many
striking examples of such virtues have been dis-
played both in ancient and modern times, which
demonstrate the vigor, expansion, and sublimity
of the moral powers of man.

When we behold men animated by noble senti-
ments, exhibiting sublime virtues, and performing
illustrious actions, — displaying generosity and
beneficence in seasons of calamity, and tranquil-
lity and fortitude in the midst of difticlilties and
dangers — desiring riches only for the sake of dis-
tributing them — estimating places of power and
honor, only for the sake of suppressing vice, re-
warding virtue, and projnoting the prosperity of
their country — enduring poverty and distress with
a noble heroism — suffering injuries and affronts
with patience and serenity — stifling resentment
when they have it in their power to inflict ven-
geance— displaying kindness and generosity to-
ward enemies and slanderers — vanquishing irasci-
ble passions and licentious desires in the midst of
the* strongest temptations — submitting to pain
and disgrace in order to promote the prosperity of
friends and relatives — and sacrificing repose,
honor, wealth and even life itself, for the good of
their country, or for promoting the best interests
of the human race, — we perceive in such ex-
amples features of the human mind, which mark
its dignity and grandeur, and indicate its desti-
nation to a higher scene of action and enjoy-
ment.

Even in the annals of the Pagan v/orld, we
find many examples of such illustrious virtues.
There we read of Regulus exposing himself to the
most cruel torments, and to death itself, rather
than suffer his veracity to be impeached, or his
fidelity to his country to be called in question —
of Phocion, wlio exposed himself to the fury of an
enraged assembly, by inveighing against the vices,
and endeavoring to promote the best interests of
his countrymen, and gave it as his last command
to his son, when he was going to e.xecution, " that
he should forget how ill the Athenians had
treated his father" — of Cyrus, who was possessed
of wisdom, moderation, courage, magnanimity,
and noble sentiments, and who employed them all
to promote the happiness of his people — of Scipio,
in whose actions the virtues of generosity and
liberality, goodness, gentleness, justice, magnani-
mity, and chastity, shone with distinguished luster
— and of Damon and Pythias, who were knit to-
gether in the bonds of a friendship wliich all tho
terrors of an ignominious death could not dis-
solve. But of all the characters of the heathen
world, illustrious for virtue, Aristides appears to
stand in the foremost rank. An extraordinary
greatness of soul (says Rollin), made him supe-
rior to every passion. Interest, pleasure, ambi-
tion, resentment, jealousy, were extinguished in
him by the love of virtue and his country. The
merit of others, instead of offending him, be-
came his own by the approbation he gave it. He
rendered the government of the Athenians amia-
ble to their allies, by his mildness, goodness,
humanity, and justice. The disinterestedness he
showed in the management of the public treas-
ure, and the love of poverty, which he carried
almost to an excess, are virtues so far superior to
the practice of our age, that they scarce seem
credible to us. His conduct and principles were
always uniform, steadfast in the pursuit of what-
ever he thought just, and incapable of the least
falsehood, or shadow of flattery, disguise, or fraud,
even in jest. He had such a control over his pas-
sions, that he uniformly sacrificed his private
interest, and his private resentments, to the good of

PROOFS FROM THE IJOIIT OF NATURE.

23

Uie public. TJiemisfocles was ono of tlie principal
actors who procured liis bunishment from Athens;
— but, aftei being reCLiUed, lie assisted him on
every occusiou with his advice Jiiid credit, joyfully
fuKing pains to promote tlio glory of his greatest
ynemy, tJirough the motive of advancing tlie
public good. And when afterward the disgrace
of Thcmistoclcs gave him a proper opportuiiity
for revenge, instead of resenting the ill treatment
lis had received from him, he constantly refused
to join with his enemies, being as far from secretly
rejoicing over the misfortune of his adversary as
he had been before from being afflicted at his
good success. Such virtues reflect a dignity and
paudeur on every mind in which they reside,
which appear incompatible with the idea, that it
is destined to retire forever from the scene of ac-
tion at the hour of death.

But the noblest examples of exalted virtue are
to be found among those who have enlisted thcm-
Belves in the cause of Christianity. The Apostle
Paul was an illustrious example of everything
that is noble, heroic, generous, and benevolent in
human conduct. His soul was inspired with a
holy ai'dor in promoting the best interests of man-
kind. To accomplish this object, he parted with
friends and relatives, relinquished his natiA^e coun-
try, and everything that was dear to him either as a
Jew or as a Roman citizen, and exposed himself to
persecutions and dangers of every description.
During the prosecution of his benevolent career,
he was "in journeyings often, in perils of waters.
In perils of robbers, in perils by his own country-
men, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the
city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the
»Ba, in perils among false brethren ; in weariness
a^id painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger
EJiC thirst, in fastings often, in stripes above meas-
ure, in cold and nakedness." Yet none of these
things moved him, nor did he count his life dear
to him, provided he might finish his course with
joy, and be instrumental in accomplishing the
present and eternal happiness of his fellow-men.
In every period of the Christian era, similar char-
acters have arisen to demonstrate the povv'cr of
virtue and to bless mankind. Our own age and
country have produced numerous philanthropic
characters, who have shone as lights in the moral
world, and have acted as benefactors to the hu-
man race. The names of Alfred, Penn, Bernard,
Kaikes, Neilde, Clarksou, Sharpe, Buxton, Wilber-
force, Venning, and many others, are familiar to
every one who is in the least acquainted with the
annals of benevolence. The exertions which
some of these individuals have made in the cau.iL-
of liberty, in promoting the education of the young,
in alleviating the distresses of the poor, in ameli-
o'-ating the condition of the prisoner, and in
counteracting the abominable traffic in slaves,
will be felt as blessings conferred on mankind
throughout succeeding generations, and will,
doubtless, be held in everlasting remembrance.

But among all the philanthropic characters of
tlio past or present age, the labors of the late
Mr Howard, stand pre-eminent. This illustri-
ous man, from a principle of pure benevolence,
devcted the greater part of his life to active bene-
ficence, and to the alleviation of human wretch-
edness, in every country where he traveled, —
diving into the depth of dungeons, and exposing
hunself to the infected atmospheres of hospitals
ond jails, in order to meliorate the condition of
tiie unfortunate, and to allay the sufferings of the
mournful prisoner. In prosecuting this labor of
love, he traveled three times through France, four
eimes through Germany, five times through Hol-

VoL. I.— 12

land, twice through Italy, once through Spain
and Portugal, and al.so through Denmark, Sweden,
Ru.s.sia, Poland, and part of the Turkish empire,
surveying the liauntrs of mi.scr)', and dist»ibuting
benefit.^ to maidtind wherever he appeared.
"From realm to re.i!m witli rross or crescent crown'd,
M'liere'er rn.inkind anil misery are founil,
O'er liiirning sands, deep w.ives, or wilds of snov,
Mild IJttwnrd jOMtiieyini^ seeks the house of woe.
iJov, n many a winding step to dungeons dank,
VVliere anguish wails .".loud and fetters clank,
To caves bestrewed with many a moldering bone
And cells whose echoes only learn to groan,
Where no kind bars a whisperinjj fjriend disclose
Ko iun-beani enters, and no zepiiyr blows;
— He treads, inemulous of fame or wealth;
Profuse of toil and prodigal of heallh,
Leads stern-ey'd Justice to the dark domains,
If not to sever to rdax the chains,
Gives to her babes the self devoted wife,
To her fond husband liberty and life.
— Onward he moves! disease and death retire;
And murmuring demons bate him and admire."

Dartcin.
Such characters afford powerful demonstra-
tions of the sublimity of virtue, of the activity of
the human mind, and of its capacity for contribu-
ting to the happiness of fellow intelligences to an
unlimited extent. We have also, in our own
times, a class of men who have parted from their
fiiends and native land, and have gone to the "ut-
termost ends of the earth," to distant barbarous
climes, exposing themselves to the frosts of La-
brador and Greenland, to the scorching heats of
Africa, and to the hostile attacks of savage tribes,
in order to publish the Salvation of God, and to
promote the happiness of men of all languages
and climates. Some of these have felt theirmind«
inspired with such a noble ardor in the cause of
universal benevolence, that nothing but insur-
mountable physical obstructions prevented them
from making the tour of the world, and impart-
ing benefits to men of all nations, kindreds, and
tongues.

Can we then imagine, that such active powers
as tliose to which I have now alluded — powers
which qualify their possessors for diffusing happi-
ness to an indefinite extent among surrounding
intelligences — will be forever extinguished by the
stroke of death? and that, after a few feeble ef-
forts during the present transitory scene they
will never again exert their energies through all
eternity? This will appear in the highest degree
improbable, if we consider, 1. The limited sphere
of action to which the generality of mankind are
confined in the present state. Most men are con-
fined to laborious employments, and have their
attention almost entirely absorbed in providing for
their families, and in anxious solicitude for their
animal subsistence and success in life, so that they
find no scope for their moral powers beyond the
circle of the family mansion, and of their own
immediate neighborhood. 2. The period within
which the most energetic powers can be exert-
ed is extremely limited. It is not before man
has arrived near the meridian of life that his mo-
ral powers begin to be fully expanded, — ^and it
frequently happens, in the case of ardent benevo-
lent characters, that, at the .moment when tlicir
philanthropic schemes were matured, and they had
just commenced their career of beneficence, death
interposes, and puts a period to all their labors and
designs. • 3. In the present state of the world, nu-
merous physical obstructions interpose t» prevent
the exertion of the moral powers, even in the most
ardent philanthropic minds. The want of wealth
and influence; the diseases and infirmities of an
enfeebled corporeal frame; the impediments thrown
in the way by malice and envy, and the political
arrangements of states; the difliculty of penetm-

24

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

tinjj into every region of the globe where human
beings reside, and many otlier obstructions, pre-
vent the full exercise of that moral energy which
resides in benevolent and heroic minds, and con-
fine its operations within a narrow span. But
can we su')pose, in consistency with Divine Wis-
dom and Iknievolonce, that (iod has implanted in
the human constitution benevolent active powers,
which are never to be fully expanded, and that
those godlike characters that have occasionally
appeared on the theater of our world, are never to
rea|)pear on the field of action, to expatiate, in the
full exercise of their moral powers, in the ample
career of immortality? To admit such a suppo-
sition would bo in effect to call in question his
Wisdom and intelligence It is the part of Wisdom
to proportionate >ne««s to en^s, and to adapt the
faculties of any being to the scene in wliicla it is
to operate. But here, we behold a system of pow-
ers wliich can never be brouglit into full operation
in the present state; and, therefore, if death is to
put a final termination to the activity of man, the
mighty powers and energies witli which he is en-
dowed have been bestowed in vain, — and we are
led to conceive of the Divine Being' as deficient in
Wisdom and Inte41igence in his government of
the intellectual beings he has formed.

This will, perhaps, appear still more obvious,
if we attend to the following considerations. —
Throughout the universe we perceive traces of a
system of universal benevolence. This is distinct-
ly perceptible in relation to our own globe, in the
revolution of day and night; in the constitution
of the atmosphere; in the beautiful and sublime
scenes presented to the eye in every country; in
the agencies of light and heat, and of the electri-
cal and galvanic fluids; inthe splendor of the sun,
and the glories of the midnight sky; in the or-
ganization of the body of man, and the different
senses with which he is endowed; in the general
adaptation of the mineral and vegetable kingdoms,
and of every element around us, to the wants of
man and other sensitive beings; and in the abun-
dant supply of food and drink which is annually
distributed to every rank of animated existence.
We perceive traces of the same benevolent agency
in the arrangements connected with distant worlds
— in the rotation of the planetary globes around
their axes, in the assemblages of rings and moons
with which they are environed, and in the divei--
sified apparatus by which light and heat are dis-
tributed in due proportion to the several bodies
which compose the solar system. And, in other
systems, in the distant regions of space, we per-
ceive that it is one great end of the Creator, to dif-
fuse light and splendor throughout all the prov-
inces of his immense empire, in order to unvail
his glorious works to the eyes of unnumbered in-
telligences. But, although a system of benevolence
is abundantly manifest in the mechanical fabric
of the universe, yet it does not appear that happi-
ness can be fully enjoyed witbnut the benevolent
agency of intelligent beings. We have abundant
proofs of this position in the world in which we
dwell. For although the goodness of the Creator
is displayed throughout all its regions, yet the
greater part of the human race is in a state of
comparative misery, not owing to any deficiency
in the Divine bounty, but to the selfishness, am-
bition, and malevolence of men. With tTie bless-
ings which Heaven provides from year to year,
the whole population of our globe, and a thousand
millions more, would be amply supplied, and hap-
piness extensively diffused, were benevolence a
prominent and universal trait in the character of
mankind Even in those places where only a few

energetic and benevolent individuals bestir them-
selves in the cause of general jjliilanthropy, a
wonderful change i,s rapidly produced in the con-
dition of society. Disease, and misery, and want,
fly away at their approach, — the poor are supplied,
the wretched relieved, the prisoner released, the
orphan provided for, and the widow's heart made
to sing for joy.

Now, we have every reason to conclude, thai
moral action extends over the whole empire of Gcd
— that benevolence exerts its noblest energiefJ
among the inhabitants of distant worlds — and that
it is chiefly through the medium of reciprocal
kindness and affection that ecstatic joy pervades
the hearts of celestial intelligences. For we can-
not conceive happiness to exist in any region of
space, or among any class of intellectual beings,
where love to the Creator, and to one another, ia
not a prominent and permanent affection.

It is, therefore, reasonable to believe that those
virtuous benevolent characters which have appear-
ed in our world, have been only in the act of
training for a short period,preparatory totheirbeing
transported to a nobler scene of action, and that
their moral powers, which could not be brought
into full exercise in this terrestrial .sphere, were in-
tended to qualify them for mingling with more
exalted intelligences, and co-operating with them
in carrying forward that vast system of universal
benevolence, to which all the arrangements of the
Creator evidently tend.

Whether, then, it may be asked, does it appear
most consistent with the moral powers of man and
with the wisdom and goodness of God, to suppose
that such illustrious characters as Penn, G. Sharp,
Clarkson, Venning, Howard, and the apostle Paul,
are now forever banished from creation, or that
they are expatiating in a higher scene of action
and enjojnnent, where all their benevolent ener-
gies find ample scope, and where every blossom
of virtue is fully expanded? If there is a God,
and if wisdom, benevolence, and rectitude, form an
essential part of his character, we cannot doubt
for a moment that such characters are still in ex-
istence, and shall re-appear on a more splendid
theater of action in the future scenes of eter-
nity.

I shall conclude my illustrations of the preced-
ing arguments with the following extract from a
judicious and elegant writer:

" In tracing the nature and destination of any
being, we form the surest judgment frcm his;>ojr-
ers of action, and the scope and limit, of these com-
pared with his state or that field in v-Iuch they aro
exercised. If this being passes through different
states or fields of action, and we find a suecession of
powers adapted to the different periods of his pro-
gross, we conclude, that he was destined for thosf
successive states, and reckon hvi naUivo progr^.ssive
If, beside the immediate set of powers which fi
him for action in his present state, we observe an
other set which appear superfluous if he were to hr
confined to it, and which point to another or kigh-
er one, we naturally conclude that he is not dep'gn-
ed to remain in his present state, but to advance to
that for which those supernumerary powers are
adapted. Thus, we argue, that the insect, which
has wings forming or formed, and all the appara-
tus proper for flight, is not destined always to creep
on the ground, or to continue in the torp.C Etate of
adhering to a wall, but is designed in 'is rsason tc
take its flight in air Without this farther destina-
tion, the admirable mechanism of wings and thft
other apparatus, would be useless and absurd.

" The same kiTid of reasoning may be applied to
man, while he lives only a sort cf vegetative lift

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

25

In the womb. He is furnished even there with a
beautiful apparatus of organs, eyes, ears, and other
delicate senses, which derive nourishment indeed,
but are in a manner folded up, and have no proper
exercise or use in their present confinement. Let
us suppose some intelligent spectator, who never
had any connection with man, nor the least ac-
quaintance with human affairs, to see this odd phe-
nomenon, a creature formed alter such a manner,
and placed in a situation apparently unsuitable to
such various machinery, must he not be strangely
puzzled about the use of his complicated structure,
and reckon such a profusion of art and admirable
workuumship lost on the subject: or reason by way
of anticipation, that a creature indued with such
various yet unexerted capacities, was destined for
a more enlarged sphere of action, in wliich those
latent capacities shall have full play? The vast
variety and yet beautiful symmetry and propor-
tions of the several parts and organs with which
the creature is indued, and their apt cohesion witii
and dependence on the curious receptacle of their
life and nourishment, would forbid his concluding
the whole to be the birth of chance, or the bungling
effort of an unskillful artist; at least, would make
him demur awhile at so harsh a sentence. But if,
while he is in this state of uncertainty, we suppose
him to see the babe, after a few successful strug-
gles, throwing off his fetters, breaking loose from
his little dark prison, and emerging into open day,
then unfolding his recluse and dormant powers,
breathing in air, gazing at light, admiring colors,
sounds, and all the fair variety of nature; immedi-
ately his doubts clear up, the propriety and excel-
lence of the workmanship dawn upon him with
full luster, and the whole mystery of the first pe-
riod is unraveled by the opening of this new scene.
Though in this second period the creature lives
cliiefly a kind of animal life, that is, of sense and
appetUe, yet by various trials and observations he
gains experience, and by the gradual evolution of
the powers of the imagination he ripens apace for
a higher life, for exercising the arts of design and
imitation, and of those in which strength or dexteri-
ty are more requisite, than acuteness or reach of
judgment. In the succeeding rational or intdlec-
iual period, his understanding, which formerly
crept in a lower, mounts into a higher sphere, can-
vasses the natures, judges of the relations of things,
forms schemes, deduces consequences from what
is past, and from present as well as past collects fu-
ture events. By this succession of states, and of
correspondent culture, he grows up at iengtb into
amoral, a sociaL and a political creature. Tliis is
the last period at which we perceive him to arrive
in this las mortal career. Each period is introduc-
tory to the next succeeding one; each life is a
field of exercise and improvement for the next
higher one; the life of the foetus for that of the in-
fant, the life of the infant for that of the cMld, and
all the lower for the highest and best.

"But is this the last period of nature's progres-
sion? Is this the utmost extent of her plot, wliere
she winds up the drama, and dismisses the actor
into eternal oblivion? Or does he appear to be in-
vested with supernumerary powers, which have
not full exercise and scope even in the last scene,
and reach not that maturity or perfection of
which they are capable, and therefore point to
Bome higher scene, where he is to sustain another
and more important character, than he has yet
sustained? If any such there are, may we not
conclude from analogy, or in the same way of an-
ticipation as before, that he is destined for that
after part, and is to be produced upon a more au-
gust and solemn stage, where his sublimer powers

shall have proportioned action, anc his nature at-
tain its completion."*

In illustrating the preceding arguments, I have
shown that man is possessed of desires which can-
not be fully gratified, and of moral and intellec-
tual powers which cannot be fully exercised in
the present Avorld, and consequently, we have the
same reason to conclude, that he is destined to a
liigher scene of existence, as we would have, from
beiiolding the rudiments of eyes and ears in the
embryo in the womb, that it is destined to burst
its confinement, and to enter into a world, where
sounds, and light, and colors will afford ample
scope for the exercise of these organs.

SECTION VIL

OlV THE APPREHENSIONS AND FOREBODINGS OF THE
MIND, WHEN UNDER THE INFLaENCE OF REMORSE.

The apprehensions of the mind, and its fearful
forebodings of futurity, when under the influence
of remorse, may be considered as intimations of a
state of retribution in another world.

As the boundless desires of the human mind,
tlie vast comprehension of its intellectual facul-
ties, and the virtuous exercise of its moral powers,
are indications of a future slate of more enlarged
enjoyment, so, those horrors of conscience which
frequently torment the minds of the wicked, may
be considered as the forebodings of future misery
and woe. For it appears as reasonable to believe,
that atrocious deeds will meet with deserved op-
probrium and punishment in a future state, as that
virtuous actions will be approved of and rewarded;
and, consequently, we find, that all nations who
have believed in a future state of happiness for
the righteous, have also admitted that there are fu-
ture punishments in reserve for the workers of
iniquity. Every man has interwoven in his con-
stitution a moral sense which secretly condemns
him when he 1ms committed an atrocious action,
even when the perpetration of the crime is un-
known to his fellow-men, and when he is placed
in circumstances which raise him above the fear
of human punishment. There have been nume-
rous individuals, both in the higher and lower
ranks of life, who, without any external cause, or
apprehension of punishment from men, have been
seized with inward terrors, and have writhed un-
der the agonies of an accusing conscience, which
neither the charms of music, nor all the other de-
lights of the sons of men, had the least power to
assuage. Of the truth of this position, the annals
of history furnish us with many impressive exam-
ples. The following may suffice as specimens: —

While Belshazzar was carousing at an impioua
banquet with his wives and concubines and a
thousand of his nobles, the appearance of the fing-
ers of a man's hand, and of the writing on an op-
posite wall, threw him into such consternation,
that his thoughts terrified him, the girdles of his
loins were loosed, and his knees smote one against
anotiicr. His terror, in such circumstances, can-
not be supposed to have proceeded from a fear
of man; for ho was surrounded by his guards and
his princes, and all the delights of music, and of a
splendid entertainment. Nor did it arise from the
sentence of condemnation written on the wall; for
he was then ignorant both of the wri^'ugand of ita
meaning. But he was conscious of ine wicked-
ness of which he had been guilty, and of the sacri-

• Fordyce.

26

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

legious impiety in which ho was then indulging,
and, therefore, the extraordinary appearance on
the wall, was considered as an awful foreboding
of punishment from that almighty and invisible
Being whom he had offended. — Tiberius, one of the
Riman emperors, was a gloomy, treacherous, and
cruel tyrant. The lives of his people became the.
Bport of his savage disposition. Barely to take
them away was not sutiicient, if their death was
not tormenting and atrocious. He ordered, on one
occasion, a general massacre of all who wore de-
tained in prison, on account of the conspirucj^ of
Sejanus his minister, and heaps of carcasses were
piled up in the public places. His private vices
and debaucheries were also incessant, and revolt-
ing to every principle of decency and virtue. Yet
this tyrant, while acting in the plenitude of his
power, and imagining himself beyond the control
of every law, had his mind tortured with dread-
ful apprehensions. We are informed by Tacitus,
that in a letter to the Senate, he opened the in-
ward wounds of his breast, with such words of
despair as might have moved pity in those who
were under the continual fear of his tyranny.*
Neither the splendor of his situation as an empe-
ror, nor the solitary retreats to which he retired,
could shield him from the accusations of his con-
Bcience, but he himself was forced to confess the
mental agonies he endured as a punishment for his
crimes. — Aniiochus Epiphanes was another ty-
rant remaikable for his cruelty and impiety. He
laid siege to the city of Jerusalem, exercised the
most horrid cruelties upon its inhabitants, slaugh-
tered forty thousand of them in three days, and
polluted, in the most impious manner, the temple,
and the worship of the God of Israel. Some time
afterward, when he was breathing out curses
against the Jews for having restored their ancient
worship, and threatening to destroy the whole
nation, and to make Jerusalem the common place
of sepulture to all the Jews, he was seized with a
grievous torment in his inward parts, and exces-
sive pangs of the colic, accompanied with such
terrors as no remedies could assuage. " Worms
crawled from every part of him; his flesh fell away
piece-meal, and the stench was so great that it
became intolerable to the whole army; and he
thus finished an impious life, by a miserable
death."! During this disorder, says Polybius, he
was troubled with a perpetual delirium, imagin-
ing that specters stood continually before him, re-
proaching him with his'crimes. — Similar relations
are given by historians, of Herod, who slaughter-
ed the infants at Bethlehem, of Galerius Maxim-
ianu3,the author of the tenth persecution against
the Christians, of the infamous Philip II, of Kpain;
and of many others whose names stand conspicu-
ous on the rolls of impiety and crime.

It is related of Charles IX, of France, who or-
dered the horrible Bartholomew massacre, and as-
sisted in the bloody tragedy, that, ever after, ho
had a fierceness in his looks, and a color in his
cheeks, which he never had before; — that he slept
little and never sound; and waked frequently in
great agonies, requiring soft music to compose
him to rest; and at length died of a lingering dis-
order, after having undergone the most exquisite
torments both of body and mind. D'Aubigne in-
forms us that Heniy IV, frequently told, among
his most intimate friends, that eight days after the
massacre of St. Bartholomew, he saw a vast num-

• Tiberiom non foitana, non solitndines protegebant, quin
tramenta pectoris suasqua poenas ipse fateretni, &e. —

Tacitui.
t RoUin's An. Hist.

ber of ravens perch and croak on the pavilion of
the Louvre; that the same night Charles IX, after
he had been two hours in bed, started up, roused
his grooms of the chamber, and sent them out to
listen to a great noise of groans in the air, and
among othei-s, some furious and threatening voices,
the whole resembling what was heard on the night
of the massacre; that all these various cries were
so striking, so remarkable, and so articulate, that
Charles believing that the enemies of the Mont-
morcncies and of their partisans had surprised and
attacked them, sent a detachment of his guards
to prevent this new massacre. It is scarcely ne-
cessary to add, that the intelligence brought from
Paris proved these appreliensions to be groundless,
and that the noises heard, must have been tlie fan-
ciful creations of the guilty conscience of the
king, countenanced by the vivid remembrance of
those around him of the horrors of St. Bartholo-
mew's day.

King Richard III, after he had murdered his in-
nocent royal nephews, was so tormented in con-
science, as Sir Thomas More reports from the
gentlemen of his bed chamber, that he had no
peace or quiet in himself, but always carried it as
if some inmiinent danger was near him. His eyes
were always whirling about on this side, and ou
that side; he wore a shirt of mail, and was always
laying his hand upon his dagger, looking as furi-
ously as if he was ready to strike. He had no
quiet in his mind by day, nor could take any rest by
night, but, molested with terrifying dreams, would
start out of his bed, and run like a distracted man
about the chamber.*

This state of mind, in reference to another case,
is admirably described, in the following lines of
Drydeu :

" Amid your train this unseen judge will wait.
Examine how you came by all your state;
Upbraid your impious pomp, and in your ear
W\\] halloo, rebel! traitor! murderer!
Your ill-got power, wan looks, and care shall bring.
Known but by discontent to be a King.
Of crowds afraid, yet anxious wlien aloue.
You'll sit and brood your sorrows on a throne."

Bessus the Pceonian being reproached with ill-
nature for pulling down a nest of young spa/rows
and killing them, answered, that he had reason sc
to do, " Because these little birds never ceased
falsely to accuse him of the murder of his lather."
This parricide had been until then concealed and
unknown, but the revenging fury of conscience
caused it to be discovered by himself, who was
justly to suffer for it. That notorious skeptic and
semi-atheist, Mr. Hobbes, autlior of the "Levia-
than," had been the means of poisoning many
young gentlemen and others, with his wicked
principles, as the Earl of Rochester confessed, with
extreme compunction, on his death-bed. It was
remarked, by those who narrowly observed his
conduct, that "though in a humor of bravado he
would speak strange and unbecoming things of
God; yet in his study, in the dark, and in his re-
tired thoughts, he trembled before him." He
could not endure to be left alone in an empty
house. He could not, even in his old age, bear
any discourse of death, and seemed to cast off all
thoughts of it. He could not bear to sleep in t;ia
dark; and if his candle happened to go out in th»
night, he would awake in terror and amazemor.t,
— a plain indication, that he was unable to bear
the dismal reflections of his dark and desolate
mind, and knew not how to extinguish, nor how
to bear fiie light of " the candle of the Lord" with-
in him. He is said to have left the world, with

* Stow's Annals, p. 4€0.

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

2T

great reluctance, under terrible apprehensions of
a dark and unknown futurity.

" Conscienee, the torturer of the son], unseen,
Does fiercely brandish a sharp scourge within.
Severe decrees may keep our tongues in awe.
But to our thoughts what edict can give law ?
Even you yourself to your own breast shall tell
Your crimes, and your own conscience be your hell."
Many similar examples of the power of con-
science in awakening terrible apprehensions of
futurity, could be brought forward from the re-
cords of history both aucieut and modern; — and
there can bo no question, that, at the present mo-
ment, there are thousands of gay spirits immers-
ed in fashionable dissipation, and professing to
disregard the realities of a future world, wlio, if
tliey would lay open their inmost thoughts, would
confess, that the secret dread of a future retribution
is a specter which frequently haunts them wliile
running the rounds of forbidden pleasure, and
embitters their most exquisite enjoyments.

Now, how are we to account for such terrors of
conscience, and awful forebodings of futurity, if
there be no existence beyond the grave? especial-
ly when we consider, that many of those who
have been thus tormented have occupied stations
of rank and power, which raised them above the
fear of punishment from man? If they got their
schemes accomplished, their passions gratified, and
their persons and possessions secured from tem-
poral danger, why did they feel compunction or
alarm in the prospect of futurity? for ever)' men-
tal disquietude of this description implies a dread
of something future. They had no great reason
to be afraid even of the Almighty himself, if hjs
vengeance do not extend beyond the present
world. They beheld the physical and moral world
moving onward according to certain fixed and im-
mutable laws. They beheld no miracles of ven-
geance— no Almighty arm visibly hurling the
thunderbolta of heaven against the workers of ini-
quity. They saw that one event happened to all,
to the righteous as well as to the wicked, and that
death was an evil to which they behooved sooner
or later to submit. They encountered hostile ar-
mies with fortitude, and beheld all the dread ap-
paratus of war without dismay. Yet in their
secret retirements, in their fortified retreats, where
no eye but the eye of God was upon them, and
when no hostile incursion was apprehended, they
trembled at a shadow, and felt a thousand disquie-
tudes from the reproaches of an inward monitor
which they could not escape. These things ap-
pear altogether inexplicable if there be no retribu-
tion beyond the grave.

We are, therefore, irresistibly led to the con-
clusion, tliat the voice of conscience, in such
cases, is the voice of God declaring his abhorrence
of wicked deeds and the punishment which they
deserve, and that his providence presides over the
actions of moral agents, and gives intimations of
the future destiny of those haughty spirits who
obstinately persist in their trespasses. And, con-
Bequently, as the peace and serenity of virtuous
kni'ids are preludes of nobler enjoyments'in a fu-
ture life, so those terrors which now assail the
wicked may be considered as the beginnings of
that misery and anguish which will be consummat-
ed in the world to come, in the case of those who
add final impenitence to all their other crimes.

SECTION VIII.
On the disoudered state of the moral world,
when contrasted with the regular and sys-
tematical order of the material.

TsB disordered state of the moral world, con-

trasted with the regular and systematical order of
the material, afTords a strong presumption of aiy
other state in which the moral evils which now
exist will be corrected.

When we take a general survey of the great
fabric of the universe, or contemplate more mi-
nutely any of its subordinate arrangements, the
marks of beauty, order and harmony, are striking-
ly apparent. Everything appears in its proper
place, moving onwai-d in majestic order, and ac-
complishing the end for which it was intended.
In the planetary system, the law of gravitation ia
found to operate exactly in proportion to the
square of the distance, and the squares of the pe-
riodic times of the planets' revolutions round the
sun are exactly proportionate to the cubes of their
distances. Every body in this system finishes its
respective revolution in exactly the same period
of time, so as not to deviate a single minute in
the course of a century. The annual revolution
of the planet Jupiter was ascertained two centu-
ries ago, to be accomplished in 4330 days, 14
hours, 27 minutes, and 11 seconds, and his rota-
lion round his axis in 9 hours, 56 minutes, and
these revolutions are still found to be performed
in exactly the same times. The earth performs
its diurnal revolution, from one century to an-
other, bringing about the alternate succession of
day and night, in exactly the same period of 23
hours, 56 minutes, and 4 seconds. Throughout
the whole of this system, there is none of the
bodies of which it is composed that stops in its
motion, or deviates from the path prescribed. No
one interrupts another in its course, nor interferes
to prevent the beneficial influences of attractiv®
power, or of light, and heat. Were it otherwise —
were the earth to stop in its diurnal revolution,
and delay to usher in the dawn at its appointed
time, or were the planets to dash one against an-
other, and to run lawlessly through the sky, the
system of Nature would run into confusion, its
inhabitants would be thrown into a state of an-
archy, and deprived of all tiieir enjoyments. But,
in consequence of the order which now prevails,
the whole presents to the eye of intelligence an
admirable display of beauty and harmony, and of
infinite wisdom and design.

In like manner, if we attend to the arrange-
ments of our sublunary system — to the revolu-
tions of the seasons, the course of the tides, the
motions of the rivers, the process of evaporation,
the periodical changes of the winds, and the
physical economy of the animal and vegetable
tribes — the same systematic order and harmony
may be perceived. — In the construction and
movements of the human frame, there is a strik-
ing display of systematic order and beauty. Hun-
dreds of muscles of diffi^rent forms, hundreds of
bones variously articulated, thousands of lacteal
and lymphatic vessels, and thousands of veins
and arteries all act in unison every moment, in
order to produce life and enjoyment. Every or-
gan of sense is admirably fitted to receive impres-
sions from its corresponding objects. The eye is
adapted to receive the impression of light, and
light, is adapted to the peculiar construction of
the eye ; the ear is adapted to sound, and tlie
constitution of the air and its various undulations
are fitted to make an impression on the tympa-^
uum of the ear. Even in the construction of the
meanest insect we perceive a series of adaptations,
and a system of organisation no lesis regular and
admirable than those of man; — and as much care
appears to be bestowed in bending a claw, articu-
lating a joint, or clasping the filaments of a feather,
to answer its intended purpose, as if it were tli«

28

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

Bnly object on wliich the Creator was employed.
—And it is wortliy of remark, that our views of
the harmony and order of the material world
become more admirable and satisfactory, in pro-
portion as our knowledge of its arrangements is
enlarged and extended. Whether we explore,
witli the telescope, the bodies which are dispersed
through the boundless regions of space, or pry,
by tlie help of the microscope, into the minutest
parts of nature, wo perceive traces of oraer, and
of exquisite mechanism and design which excite
admiration and wonder in every contemplative
mind. Before the invention of the microscope,
we might naturally have concluded, that all be-
yond the limits of natural vision was a scene of
confusion, a chaotic mass of atoms without life,
form, or order; but we now clearly perceive, that
everything is regular and systematic, that even the
dust on a butterily's wing, every distinct particle
of which is invisible to the naked eye, consists
of regularly organized feathers — that in the eye
of a small insect, ten thousand nicely polished
globules are beautifully arranged on a transpa-
rent net-work within the compass of one-twen-
tieth of an inch — and that myriads of living
beings exist, invisible to the unassisted sight, with
bodies as curiously organized, and as nicely
adapted to their situations as the bodies of men
and of the larger animals. So that the whole
frame of the material world presents a scene of
infinite wisdom and intelligence, an 1 a display of
systematic order, beauty, and proportion. Every-
thing bears the marks of benevolent design, and is
calculated to produce happiness in sentient be-
ings.

On the other hand, when we take a survey of
the moral world in all the periods of its history,
we perceive throughout almost every part of its
extent, an inextricable maze, and a scene of clash-
ing and confusion, which are directly opposed to
the harmony and order which pervade the mate-
rial system. When we take a retrospective view
of the moral state of mankind, during the ages
that are past, what do we behold, but a revolting
scene of perfidy, avarice, injustice, and revenge,
— of wars, rapine, devastation, and bloodshed;
nation rising against nation, one empire dashing
against another, tyrants exercising the mosrt hor-
rid cruelties, superstition and idolatry immolating
millions of victims, and a set of desperate villains,
termed heroes, prowling over the world, turning
fruitful fields into a wilderness, burning towns and
villages, plundering palaces and tempies, drench-
ing the earth with human gore, and erecting
thrones on the ruins of nations? Here We behold
an Alexander, with his numerous armies, driving
the ploughshare of destruction through surround-
ng nations, leveling cities with the dust, and
massacring their inoffensive inhabitants in order
to gratify a mad ambition, and to be eulogized as
a hero, — there we behold a Xerxes, fired with pride
and with the lust of dominion, leading forward
an army of three millions of infatuated wretches
to be slaughtered by the victorious and indignant
Greeks. Here we behold an Alaric, with his bar-
barous hordes, ravaging the southern countries of
Europe, overturning the most splendid monu-
ments of art, pillaging the metropolis of the Ro-
man empires, and deluging its streets and houses
with the blood of the slain, — there we behold a
Tamerlane overrunning Persia, India, and other
regions of Asia, carrying slaughter and devasta-
tion in his train, and displaying his sportive
cruelty, by pounding three or four thousand
people at a time in large mortars, and building
their bodies with bricks and mortar into a wall.

On the one hand, we behold six millions of Cru-
saders marching in wild confusion through the
eastern parts of Europe, devouring everything
before them, like an army of locusts, breathing
destruction to Jews and infidels, and massacring
the inhabitants of Western Asia with inferniU
fury. On the other hand, we behold the immense
forces of Jengldz Kan ravaging the kingdoms of
Eastern Asia, to an extent of 15 millions* of
scjuare miles, beheading 100,000 prisoners at once,
convulsing the world with terror, and utterly ex-
terminating from the earth fourteen millions of
human beings. At one period, we behold the
ambition and jealousy of Marius and Sylla embroil-
ing the Romans in all the horrors of a civil war,
deluging the city of Rome for five days with the
blood of her citizens, transfixing the heads of her
senators with poles, and dragging their bodies to
the Forum to be devoured by dogs. At another,
we behold a Nero trampling on the laws of na-
ture and society, plunging into the most abomin-
able debaucheries, practicing cruelties which fill
the mind with horror, murdering his wife Octavia,
and his mother Agrippiua, insulting Heaven and
mankind by offering up thanksgivings to the gods
on the perpetration of these crimes, and setting
fire to Rome, that he might amuse himself with
the universal terror and despair which that ca-
lamity inspired. At one epoch, we behold the
Goths and Vandals rushing like an overflowing
torrent, from east to west, and from north to
south, sweeping before them every vestige of
civilization and art, butchering all within their
reach without distinction of age or sex, and mark-
ing their path with rapine, desolation, and car-
nage. At another, we behold the emissaries of
the Romish See slaughtering, without distinction
or mercy, the mild and pious Albigenses, and
transforming their peaceful abodes into a scene
of universal consternation and horror, while the
inquisition is torturing thousands of devoted vic-
tims, men of piety and virtue, and committing
their bodies to the flames.

At one period of the world,t almost the whole
earth appeared to be little else than one great field
of battle, in which the human race seemed to be
threatened with utter extermination. The Van-
dals, Huns, Sarmatians, Alans, and Suevi, were
ravaging Gaul, Spain, German}'-, and other parts
of the Roman empire ; the Goths were plunder-
ing Rome, and laying waste the cities of Italy;
the Saxons and Angles were overrunning Brit-
ain and overturning the government of the Ro-
mans. The armies of Justinian and of the Huna
and Vandals were desolating Africa, and butcher-
ing mankind by millions. The whole forces of
Scythia were rushing with irresistible impulse on
the Roman empire, desolating the countries, and
almost exterminating the inhabitants wherever
they came. The Persian armies were pillaging
Hierapolis, Aleppo, and the surrounding cities,
and reducing them to ashes; and were laying
waste all Asia, from the Tigris to the Bos]jhorus
The Arabians under Mahomet and his successon
were extending their conquests over Syria, Pales*
tine, Persia, and India, on the east, s-nd oves
Egypt, Barbary, Spain, and the islands of th«
Mediterranean, on the west; cutting in pieces witb
their swords all the enemies of Islamism. Ih
Europe, every kingdom was shattered to its sett-

♦ " The conquests of Jenghiz Kanj" says Millot, ' wen
supposed to extend above eifjhteen linndred le.igoes ttoM
east to west, and a thousand from south to north." — Modem
History, vol. 1.

t About the fifth, sixth and seventh ceatories of the Chris
tian era.

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

29

ter; in the Muliommedan empire in Asia, the
Caliphs, Sultans, and Emirs were waging contin-
ual wars; — new sovereignties were daily rising,
and daily destroyed ; and Africa was rapidly de-
populating, and verging toward desolation and
barbarism.

Amidst this universal clashing of nations, when
the whole earth became one theater of bloody
revolutions, — scenes of horror were displayed,
over which historians wished to draw a vail, lest
they should transmit an example of inhumanity
to succeeding ages — the most fertile and populous
provinces were converted into deserts, overspread
with the scattered ruins of villages and cities —
everything was wasted and destroyed with hostile
cruelty — famine raged to such a degree that the
living were constrained to feed on the dead bodies
of their fellow-citizens — prisoners were tortured
with the most exquisite cruelty, and the more
illustrious they were, the more barbarously were
they insulted — cities were left without a living
inhabitant — public buildings which resisted the
violence of the Hanies were leveled with the
ground — every art and science was abandoned —
the Roman empire was shattered to its center and
its power annihilated — avarice, perfidy, hatred,
treachery, and malevolence reigned triumphant ;
and virtue, benevolence, and every moral princi-
ple were trampled under foot.

Such scenes of carnage and desolation have been
displayed to a certaiu extent and almost without in-
termission, during the whole period of this world's
history. For the page of the historian, virhetlier
ancient or modern, presents to our view little
more than revolting details of ambitious conquer-
ors carrying ruin and devastation in their train, of
proud despots trampling on the rights of man-
kind, of cities turned into ruinous heaps, of coun-
tries desolated, of massacres perpetrated with in-
fernal cruelty, of nations dashing one against
another, of empires wasted and destroyed, of
political and religious dissensions, and of the
general progress of injustice, immorality, and
crime. Compared with the details on these sub-
jects, all the other facts which have occurred in
the history of mankind are considered by the his-
torian as mere interludes in the great drama of
the world, and almost unworthy of being re-
corded.

Were we to take a survey of the moral world
as it now stands, a similar prospect, on the whole,
would be presented to our view. Though the
shades of depravity with which it is overspread
are not so thick and dark, nor its commotions so
numerous and violent as in ancient times, yet the
aspect of every nation under heaven presents to
our view, features which are directly opposite to
everything we should expect to contemplate in a
world of systematic order, harmony, and love.
If we cast our eyes toward Asia we shall find the
greater part of five hundred millions of human
beings involved in political commotions, immersed
in vice, ignorance, and idolatry, and groaning un-
der the lash of tyrannical despots. In Persia,
the cruelty and tyranny of its rulers have trans-
foraaed many of its most fertile provinces into
scenes of desolation. In Turkey, the avarice and
fiend-like cruelty of the Grand Seignior and his
Bashaws have drenched the shores of Greece with
the blood of thousands, turned Palestine into a
wilderness, and rendered Syria, Armenia, and Kur-
distan scenes of injustice and rapine. In China
and Japan a spirit of pride and jealousy prevents
the harmonious intercourse of other branches of
the human family, and infuses a cold-blooded
selhsliness into the breasts of their inliabitants,

and a contempt of surrounding naiions. Through-
out Tartury, Arabia, and Siberia, numerous hos-
tile tribes are incessantly prowling among desei-ta
and forests in quest of plunder, so that travelers
are in continual danger of being either robbed, or
murdered, or dragged into captivity. — If we turn
our eyes upon Africa, we behold human Mature
sunk into a state of the dce|)cst degradation — the
states of J'arbary in incessant hostile commotions,
and |>lundering neighboring nations both by sea
and land — the petty tyrants of Dahomy, Benin,
Asiiantee, Congo, and Angola, waging incessant
wars with neighboring tribes, massacring their
prisoners in cold blood, and decorating their
palaces with their skulls — while other degraded
hordes, in conjunction with civilized nations, are
carrying on a traffic in man-stealing and slavery,
wliieh has stained the human character with
crimes at which humanity shudders. — If we turn
our eyes toward America, we sliall find that war
and hostile incursions are the principal employ-
ments of their native tribes, and that the malig-
nity of infernal demons, is displayed in the tor-
tures tliey inflict upon the prisoners taken in
battle, while anarchy, intolerance, and political
connnotions, still agitate a great proportion of its
more civilized inhabitants. — If we take a survey
of the Eastern Archipelago, and of the islands
which are scattered over the Pacific Ocean, we
shall behold immense groups of human beings,
instead of living in harmony and affection, dis-
playing the most ferocious dispositions toward
each other, hurling stones, spears and darts on
every stranger who attempts to land upon their
coasts; offering up human sacrifices to their infer-
nal deities, and feasting with delight on the flesh
and blood of their enemies.

If we direct our attention toward Europe, the
most tranquil and civilized portion of the globe —
even here we shall behold numerous symptoms of
political anarchy and moral disorder. During the
last thirty years, almost every nation in this quar-
ter of the world has been convulsed to its center,
and become the scene of hostile commotions, of
revolutions, and of garments rolled in blood. We
have beheld France thrown from a state of aristo-
cratical tyranny and priestly domination into a
state of popular anarchy and confusion — her an-
cient institutions razed to the ground, her princes
and nobles banished from her territories, and her
most celebrated philosophers, in company with
the vilest miscreants, perishing under the stroke
of the guillotine. We have beheld a Buonaparte
riding in triumph through the nations over heaps
of slain, scattering " firebrands, arrows, and death,"
and producing universal commotion wherever he
appeared ; overturning governments, " changing
times," undermining the thrones of emperors,
and setting up kings at his pleasure. We have
beheld his successors again attempting to entwine
the chains of tyranny around the necks of their
subjects, and to hurl back the moral world into
the darkness which oversjjread the nations during
the reign of Papal superstition. We have beheld
Poland torn in pieces by the insatiable fangs of
Russia, Austria, and Prussia, her fields drenched
with blood, her patriots slaughtered, and hef
name blotted out from the list of nations. We
have beheld Moscow enveloped in flames, its
houses, churches, and palaces tumbled into ruins,
the blackened carcasses of its inhabitants blended
with the fragments, and the road to Smolensko
covered with the shattered remains of carriages,
muskets, breast-plates, helmets, and garments
strewed in every direction, and thousands of the
dying and the dead heaped one upon another la

30

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STxlTE.

horrible confusion, and swimming in blood. We
have beheld t'ne demon of war raging at Boro-
dino, Austcrlitz, tlie Tyrol, Wiliia, Smolonsko,
Trafalgar, Campordown, Eylan^ Jt^ia, La Vendee,
Caciz, Warsaw, Friedland, Talavcra, Sebastian,
Lutz?n, Leipsic, and Waterloo, demolishing cities,
desoli ting provinces, and blending the carcasses
of hordes and cattle with tlie mangled remains of
millions of human beings. We have beheld
Snain and Portugal thrown into anarchy and com-
motion, and bucome the scenes of blooly revolu-
tions— Turkey waging war with religion and
liberty — Greece overrun with blood-thh-sty Ma-
hometans, and her shores and islands the tlicater
of tlie most sanguinary contests.

And what do we just now beliold when we cast
our eyes on s urrounding nations? Russia pushing
forward her lumerous armies into the confines of
Persia for the purpose of depredation and slaugh-
ter,— the Grand Seignior, ruling his subjects with
a rod of iron, and decorating the gates of his pal-
ace wi,th hundreds of the lieadsand ears of his ene-
mies,* while his Janizaries are fomenting inces-
sant insurrections, — the Greeks engaged in a con-
test for liberty, surrounded with blood-thirsty an-
tagonists, and slaughtered without mercy, — Por-
tugal the scene of intestine broils and revolutions,
— Spain under the control of a silly priest-ridden
tyrant, to gratify whose lust of absolute power,
thousands of human beings have been sacrificed,
and hundreds of eminent patriots exiled from their
native land, — the Inquisition torturing its unhap-
py victims, — the Romisli Ciiurch thundering its
anathemas against all who are opposed to its ijiter-
ests, — the various sectaries of Protestants en-
gaged in mutual recriminations and contentions,
— and the princes and sovereigns on the Continent
almost all combined to oppose the progress of lib-
ertjr, and to prevent the improvement of the human
mind.

If we come nearer Jiome, and take a view of
the every-day scenes which meet our eye, what
do we behold? A mixed scene of bustling and
confusion, in which vice and malevolence are most
conspicuous, and most frequently triumphant.
When we contemplate the present aspect of so-
cietj', and consider the prominent dispositions and
principles which actuate the majority of mankind,
— the boundless avaricious desires which prevail,
and the base and deceitful means by which they
are frequently gratified — the mmatural conten-
tions which arise between husbands and wives, fa-
thers and children, brothers and sisters — the jeal-
ousies which subsist between those of the same
profession or employment — the bitterness and mal-
ice with which law-suits are commenced and pros-
ecuted— the malevolence and caballing which
attend electioneering contests — the brawlings,
fightings, and altercations, w^iich so frequently
occur in our streets, ale-houses, and taverns — and
the thefts, robberies, and murders, which are daily
committed, — when we contemplate the haughti-
ness and oppression of the great and powerful, and
the insubordination of the lower ran'is of society
— when we see widows and orphans suffering in-
justice ; the virtuous persecuied and oppressed; me-
ritorious characters pining in poverty and indi-
gence; fools, profligates, and tyrants, rioting in

• In a coramnnication from Odessa, dated Angnst 9, 1P24,
it was stated, that the five hundred heads and twelve hun-
dred ears of the Greeks, sent by the Captain Pacha to Con-
stantinople, after the talcing of Ipsara, were exposed on llie
gate of the seraglio, on the 20tli of July, with the following
inscription: " God has blessed the arms of the Mnssolmans,
and the detestable rebels of Ipsara are extirpated from the
face of the world," &c. It was added, "Mil friendly powers
Mve coDgTatii.ated the Sublime Porte on this victory."

wealth and abundance; generous actions unrewar-
ded; crimes unpunished; and the vilest of men
raised to stations of dignity and honor — we cannot
but admit, that the moral world presents a scene
of discord and disorder, which mar both the sensi-
tive and intellectual enjoyments of mankind.

Such, then, are the moral aspects of our world,
and the disorders which have prevailed during
every period of its history. They evidently pre-
sent a striking contrast to" the beauty and harmony
which pervade the general constitution of the ma-
terial system — to the mnjestic movements of the
planetarj' orbs, the regular succession of day and
night, and the vicissitudes of the seasons; the
changes of the moon, the ebbing and flowing of
the sea; the admirable functions of the human
system; and the hannonious adaptations of light
and heat, air and water, and the various objects in
the mineral and vegetable kingdoms to the wants
and the comfort of animated beings. And can we,
for a moment, suppose that this scene of moral
di:?order and anarchy was the ultimate end for
which the material system was created? Can we
suppose that the earth is every moment impelled
in its annual and diurnal course by the hand of
Omnipotence — that it presents new beauties every
opening spring — brings forth the treasures of au-
tumn, and displays so many sublime and variegated
landscapes — that the sun diff"uses his light over all
its regions, that the moon cheers the shades of
niglit, and the stars adorn the canopy of the sky,
from one generation to another — merely that a
set of robbers and desperadoes, and the murderers
of nations, might prowl over the world for the
purpose of depredation and slaughter, that tyrants
migiit gratify their mad ambition, that vice might
tiiumph, that virtue might be disgraced, that the
laws of moral order might be trampled under foot,
and that the successive generations of mankind
miglit mingle in this bustling and discordant scene
for a few years, and then sink forever into the
.shades of annihilation? Yet such a conclusion
we are obliged to admit, if there is no future state
in which the present disorders of the moral world
will be corrected, and the plan of the divine gov-
ernment more fully developed. And if this con-
clusion be admitted, how shall we be able to per-
ceive or to vindicate the icisdom of the Creator in
his moral administration? We account it folly in
a human being when he constructs a machine,
either for no purpose at all, or for no good purpose
or for the promotion of mischief. And how can
we avoid ascribing the same imperfection to the
Deity, if the present state of the moral world be
the ultimate end of all his physical arrangements?
But his wisdom is most strikingly displaj-ed in the
adaptations and arrangements which relate to the
material system, — and a Being possessed of bound-
less intelligence must necessarily be supposed to
act in consistency with himself. He cannot dis-
play wisdom in the material s)^stem, and folly in
those arrangements which pertain to the ■world of
mind. To suppose the contrary, would be to di-
vest him of his moral attributes, and even tocaK
in question his very existence.

We are therefore necessarily led to conclude
that the present state of the moral world is only
a small part of the great plan of God"s moral gov-
ernment— the commencement of a series of dis-
pensations to be completed in a future scene of
existence, in which his wisdom, as well as al. :m
other attributes, will be fully displayed before tha
eyes of his intelligent offspring. If thb conclu-
sion be admitted, it is easy to conceive, how thf
moral disorders which now exist may be rectified
in a future world, and the intell'j,er.., divert*

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

31

restored to harmony and happiness, and how those
moral dispensations which now appear dark and
mysterious, will appear illustrative of divine wis-
dom and intollig'ence, when contemplated as parts
of one grand sy^eui, which is to run parallel in
duration with eternity itself. But, if this be re-
jected, the moral world presents to our view an
inextricable maze, a chaos, a scene of intennina-
ble confusion, and no prospect appears of itsbeingr
ever restored to harmony and order. The con-
duct of the Deity appears shrouded in impenetra-
ble darkness; and there is no resisting of the con-
clusion, tiiat imperfection and folly arc the char-
acteristics of the Almighty — a conclusion from
which the mind shrinks back with horror, and
which can never be admitted by any rational being
who recognizes a supreme intelligence presiding
over the afl'airs of the universe.

SECTION IX.

On the unequal distributiox of rewards and
punishjiblnts in the present state.

The unequal distribution of rewards and pun-
ishments in the present state, viewed in connec-
tion with the justice and other attributes of the
Deity, forms another powerful argument in sup-
port of the doctrine of a future state.

It is admitted, to a certain extent, that " virtue
Is its own reward, and vice its own punishment."
The natural tendency of virtue, or an obedience to
the laws of God, is to produce happiness; and
were it universally practiced, it would produce the
greatest degree of happiness of which human na-
ture in the present state is susceptible. In like
manner, the natural tendency of vice is to produce
misery; and were its prevalence universal and un-
controlled, the world would be transformed into a
society of demons, and eveiy species of happiness
banished from the abodes of men. By cojme^-
ing happiness with the observance of his laws, and
misery witli the violation of them, the Governor
of the world, in the general course of his provi-
dence, gives a display of the rectitude of his char-
acter, and the impartiality of his allotments to-
ward the subjects of his government.

But, although these positions hold true, in the
general course of human affairs, there are innu-
merable cases in which the justice of God, and
the impartiality of his procedure, would be liable
to be impeached, if tiiis world were the only scene
of rewards and punishments. We behold a poor
starving wretch, whom hunger has impelled to
break open a house, in order to satisfy his craving
appetite, or to relieve the wants of a helpless fam-
ily, dragged with ignominy to the scailbld, to suf-
fer death for his offense. We behold, at the same
time, the very tyrant by whose order the sentence
was executed, who has plundered provinces, and
murdered millions of human beings, who has
wounded the peace of a thousand families, and
produced universal consternation and despair
wherever he appeared — regaling himself in the
midst of his favorites, in perfect security from hu-
man punishments. Instead of being loaded with
fetters, and dragged to a dungeon, to await in
Jjopeless agony the punishment of his crimes, he
dwells amidst all the luxuries and splendors of a
palace; his favor is court m1 by surrounding atten-
dants; his praises are chanted by orators and poets;
the story of his exploits is engraved in brass and
marble; and historians stand ready to transmit
his fame to future generations. How does the
equity of the divine government appear, in such

cases, in permitting an undue punishment to b«
inflicted on the least offendei", and in loading tha
greatest miscreant with unmerited enjoyments.

Again, in almost every period of the world, wa
behold men of piety and virtue who have suffered
the most unjust and cruel treatment from the hands
of haughty tyrants and blood-thirsty persecutors
It would require volumes to describe the instru-
ments of cruelty which have been invented by
these fiend-like monsters, and the excruciating
torments which have been endured by the victims
of their tyranny, while justice seemed to slumber,
and the perpetrators were permitted to exult in
their crimes. The Waldenses, wlio lived retired
from the rest of the world, among the bleak reces-
ses of the Alps, were a people distinguished for
piety, industry, and the practice of every moral
virtue. Their incessant labor subdued the barren
soil, and prepared it both for grain and pasture.
In the course of two hundred and fifty years they
increased to the number of eighteen thousand, oc-
cupying thirty villages, beside hamlets, the work-
manship of their own hands. Regular priests they
had none, nor any disputes about religion ; nei-
•ther had they occasion for courts of justice ; for
brotherly love did not suffer them to go to law.
They worshiped God according to the dictates
of their conscience and the rules of his word, prac-
ticed the precepts of his law, and enjoyed the
sweets of mutual affection and love. Yet this
peaceable and interesting people became the vic-
tims of the most cruel and bloody persecution. In
the year 1540, the parliament of Provence con-
demned nineteen of them to be burned for heresy,
their trees to be rooted up, and their houses to bo
razed to the ground. Afterward a violent perse-
cution commenced against the whole ofthis inter-
esting people, and an army of banditti was sent to
carry the hellish purpose into effect. The soldiers
began with massacring the old men, women, and
children, all having fled who were able to fly;
and then proceeded to burn their houses, barns,
corn, and whatever else appertained to them. In
the town of Cabriere sixty men and thirty women,
who had surrendered upon promise of life, were
butchered each of them without mercy. Some
women, who had taken refuge in a church, were
dragged out and burnt alive. Twenty-two villa-
ges were reduced to ashes ; and that populous and
flourishing district was again turned into a cheer-
less desert. Yet, after all these atrocities had
been committed, the proud pampered priests, at
whose instigation this prosecution was com-
menced, were penmitted to" live in splendor, to
exult over the victims of their cruelty, to revel in
palaces, and to indulge in the most shameful de-
baucheries.— If the present be the only state of
punishments and rewards, how shall we vindicate
the rectitude of the Almighty, in such dispensa-
tions ?

In the reign of Louis XIV, and by the orders
of that despot, the Protestants of France were
treated witlr the most wanton and diabolical cru-
elty. Their houses were rifled, their wives and
daughters ravished before their eyes, and their
bodies forced to endure all the torments that in-
genious malice could contrive. His dragoons who
were employed in this infamous expedition, pull-
ed them by the hair of their heads, plucked tho
nails of their fingers and toes, pricked their naked
bodies with pins, smoked them in their chimneys
with wisps of wet straw, threw them into fires and
held them -until they were almost burnt,, slung
them into wells of water, dipped them into ponds,
took hold of them with red hot pinchers, cut and
slashed them with knives, and beat and tormented

32

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATR

them to death in a most unmerciful and cruel man-
ner. Some were hanged on the gallows, and
others were broken upon wheels, and their man-

ffled bodies wero either left unburied, or cast into
akes and dunghills, witii every mark of indigna-
tion and contempt. Maresciial Montrevel acted a
conspicuous part in tliese barbarous executions.
He burnt five hundred men, women, and chil-
dren vvlio were assembled together in a mill to
pray and sing psalms ; he cut the throats of four
hundred of the new converts at Montpelier, and
drowned their wives and children in the river,
near Aignes Mortes. Yet the haughty tyrant by
whoso orders these barbarous deeds were commit-
ted, along with his mareschals and grandees, who
assisted in tlie execution — instead of sufFcring the
visitations of retributive justice, continued, for
thirty years after this period, to riot in all the
splendors of absolute royalty, entering into so-
lemn treaties, and breaking thein when he pleased,
and arrogating to himself divine honors ; and his
historians, instead of branding his memory with
infamy, have procured for hun the appellation of
Loms THE Great.

A thousand examples of this description might
be collected from the records even of modern his-
tory, were it necessary for the illustration of this
topic. The horrible cruelties which were com-
mitted on tiie Protestant inhabitants in the Neth-
erlands by the agents of Charles V, and Philip II,
of Spain, where more than a hundred thousand
persons of respectable characters were butchered
without mercy by the Dukes of Alva and Parma,
for their adherence to the religion of the Reform-
ers,— the dreadful massacres which took place, on
St. Bartholomew's day, in Paris and throughout
everj' province of France — the ])ersecutions of the
Protestants in England, during the reign of Queen
Mary, when the fires of Smithfiold were kindled
to consume the bodies of the most pious and vener-
able men — the Irish massacre in the reign of
Charles I, when more than 40,000 inoffensive in-
dividuals were slaughtered without distinction of
age, sex, or condition, and with every circumstance
of ferocious cruelty — the persecutions endured by
the Scottish Presbyterians, when they were driven
from their dwellings, and hunted like wild beasts
by the blood-thirsty Claverhouse and his savage
dragoons — the many thousands of worthy men
who have fallen victims to the flames, and the
cruel tortures inflicted by the Inquisitors of Spain,
while tlieir haughty persecutors were permitted to
riot on the spoils of u.ations — the fiend-like cru-
elties of the Mogul emperors in their bloody wars
— the devastations and atrocities committed by
the Persian despots — the massacre of the Gardi-
otes by Ali Pacha, and of the inhabitants of Scio
by the ferocious Turks — are only a few instances
out of many thousands, which the annals of his-
tory record of human beings suffering the most
unjust and cruel treatment, while their tyrannical
persecutors were permitted to prosecute their dia-
bolical career without suffering the punishment
due to their crimes. When the mind takes a de-
liberate review of all the revolting details connec-
ted with such facts, it is naturally led to exclaim,
"Wherefore do the wicked live, become old, yea
are mighty in power? Is there no reward for the
righteous ? Is there no punishment for the workers
of iniquity 1 Is there no God tliat judgeth iu the
earth ?" And, indeed, were there no retributions
beyond the limits of the present life, we should be
necessarily obliged to admit one or other of the
following conclusions, — either that no Moral Gov-
ernor of the world exists, or, that justice and judg-
ment are not the foundation of his throne.

When we take a survey of the moral world
around us, as it exists in the present day, the Mxno
conclusion forces itself upon the mind. When
we behold, on the one hand, the virtuous and up-
right votary of religion struggling willi poverty
and misery, treated with scorn and contempt, per-
secuted on account of his integrity and piety, des-
poiled of his earthly enjoyments, or condemned to
an ignominious death ; and on the other, the
profligate and oppressor, the i,usolent despiser of
God and religion, passing his diys in afiluence and
luxurious ease, prosecuting with impuiuty his un-
hallowed courses, and robbing the widow and the
fatherless of their dearest comforts — when we be-
hold hypocrisy successful in all its sciiemes, and
honesty and rectitude overlooked and neglected
— the destroyers of our species loaded with wealth
and honors, while the benefactors of mankind are
pining in obscurity and indigence — knaves and
fools exalted to posts of dignity and honor, and
men of uprightness and intelligence treated with
scorn, and doomed to an inglorious obscurity —
criminals of the deepest dye escaping with impu-
nity, and generous actions meeting with a base re-
ward— when we see young men of virtue and in-
telligence cut ofi' in early life, when (hey were
just beginning to bless mankind with their philan-
thropic labors, and tyrants and oppressors con-
tinuing the pests of society, and prolonging their
lives to old age in the midst of their folly and
wickedness — human beings torn from their friends
and their native home, consigned to perpetual sla-
very, and reduced below the level of the beasts,
while their oppressors set at defiance the laws of
God and man, revel in luxurious abundance, and
prosper in their crimes ; — when we behold one
nation and tribe irradiated with intellectual light,
another immersed in thick darkness ; one enjoy-
ing the blessings of civilization and liberty, ano-
ther groaning under the lash of despotism, and
do.omed to slavery and bondage, — when we con-
teriiplate such facts throughout every department
of the moral world, can we suppose, for a moment,
that the Divine administration is bounded by the
visible scene of things, that the real characters of
men shall never be brought to light, that vice is
to remain in eternal concealment and impunity,
and that the noblest virtues are never to receive
their just "recompense of reward?" To admit
such conclusions would be in effect to deny the
wisdom, goodness, and rectitude of the Ruler of
the world, or to suppose, that his all-wise and be-
nevolent designs may be defeated by the folly and
wickedness of human beings. But such conclu-
sions are so palpably and extravagantly absurd,
that the only other alternative, the reality of a fu-
ture state of existence, may be pronounced to have
the force of a moral demonstration. So that, had
we no other argument to produce in support of
the doctrine of a future state of retribution, this
alone would be sufficient to carry conviction to
every mind that recognizes the existence of a Su-
preme Intelligence, and entertains just views of
the attributes which must necessarily be displayed
in his moral administration.

When this conclusion is once admitted, it re-
moves the perplexities, and solves all the difficul-
ties which naturally arise in the mind, when it
contemplates the present disordered state of the
moral world, and the apparently capricious man-
ner in which punishments and rewards are dispens-
ed. Realizing this important truth, we need not
be surprised at the unequal distribution of the Di-
vine favors among the various nations and tribes
of mankind; since they are all placed on the first
stage of their existence, and eternity is rich in

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

33

resources, to compensate for all the defects and in-
equalities of fortune which now exist. We need
not be overwhelmed witii anguish when we behold
the pious and philanthropic youth cut down at
tlie commencement of his virtuous career, since
tliose buds of virtue which began to unfold them-
selves with so mucii beauty in the present life,
will be fully expanded and bring fort!) nobler fruits
of righteousness in that life v/hich will never end.
We need not wonder when we behold tyrants and
profligates triiimpliiug, and the excellent ones of
tlie earth trampled under foot, since the future
world will present a scene of e(iuitable administra-
tion, in which the sorrows of the upright will be
turned into joy, the triumphs of the wicked into
confusion and shame, and every one rewarded ac-
cording to his works. We need not harass our
minds with perplexing doubts, respecting the wis-
dom und equity of the dispensations of Providence;
since the moral government of God extends beyond
tbe 1' nits of this world, and all its dark and intri-
ftte nazes will be fully unraveled in the light of
CiWn ty.

" The great eternal sckime

mvolving all, and in a perfect whole
Jniting, as the prospect wider spreads.
To Reason's eye will then clear up apace.

Then shall we see the cause

tVhy unassuming Worth in secret liv'd,

^nd died neglected; why the good man's share

(n life was gal! and bitterness of soul;

VVhy the lone widow and her orphans pin'd

tn starving solitude, while Luxury,

[n palaces, lay straining lier low thought.

To form unreal wants; why heaven-born Truth

And Moderation fair, wore the red marks

Of Superstition's scourge; why licens'd Pain,

That cruel spoiler, that imbosom'd foe,

Imbitter'd all our bliss. — Ye good distrest!

Ye noble Few! who here unbending stand

Eeneath life's pressure, yet bear up awhile.

And what your bounded view, which only saw

A little part, deemed evil, is no more:

The storms of Wintry time will quickly pass,

And one unbounded Spring encircle all. —

Thompson's Winter.

Thus it appears, that although God, in the gen-
eral course of his providence, has connected hap-
piness with the observance of his laws, and mis-
ery with the violation of them, in order to display
tlie rectitude of his nature, and his hatred of moral
evil; yet he has, at the same time, in numerous
Instances, permitted vice to triumph, and virtue
to be persecuted and oppressed, to convince us,
that his government of human beings is not boun-
ded by the limits of time, but extends into the
eternal world, where the system of his moral ad-
ministration will be completed, his wisdom and
rectitude justified, and the mysterious ways of his
Providence completely unraveled.

This argument might have been farther illus-
trated from a consideration of those moral per-
ceptions implanted in the human constitution,
and which may be considered as having the force
of moral laws proceeding from tlie Governor of the
universe. The difference between right and wrong,
virtue and vice, is founded upon the nature of
tilings, and isperceptible by every intelligent agent
whose moral feelings are not altogether blunted
by vicious indulgences. Were a man to aflirm
tliat there is no difference between justice and
injustice, love and hatred, truth and falsehood ;
that it is equally the same whether we be faithful
to a friend or betray him to his enemies, whether
Bervants act with fidelity to their masters or rob
them of their property, whether rulers oppress
their subjects or promote their interests, and
whether parents nourish their children with teu-
derne.ss, or smother them in their cradles — he
wauld at once be denounced as a fool and a mad-

man, and hissed out of society. The differenco
between such actions is eternal and unchangeable,
and every moral agent is indued with a faculty
which enables him to perceive it. We can choose
to perform the one class of actions and to refrain
from the other; we can comply with the voice
of conscience which deters us from the one, and
excites us to the other, or we can resist its dic-
tates, and we can judge whether our actions de-
serve reward or punishment. Now if God has
indued us with such moral perceptions and capa-
cities, is it reasonable to suppose, that it is equal-
ly indifferent to him whether we obey or disobey
the laws lie has prescribed ? Can we ever suppose,
that he who governs the universe is an unconcern-
ed spectator of the good or evil actions that hap-
pen throughout his dominions ? or that he has
left man to act, with impunity, according to his
inclinations, whether they be right or wrong : If
such suppositions cannot be admitted, it follows
that man is accountable for his actions, and that
it must be an essential p irt of the Divine govern-
ment to bring every action into judgment, and
to punish or reward his creatures according to
their works. And if it appear, in point of fact,
that such retributions are not fully awarded ia
the present state, nor a visible distinction made
between the righteous and the violators of his law,
we must necessarily admit the conclusion, that the
full and equitable distribution of punishments and
rewards is reserved to a future world, when a visi-
ble and everlasting distinction will be inade, and
the whole intelligent creation clearly discern be-
tween him that sei-ved God and him that served
him not.

SECTION X.

On the absurdity of supposing that the think-
ing PRINCIPLE IN MAN WILL EVER BE ANNIHI-
LATED.

It is highly unreasonable, if not absurd, to sup-
pose that the thinking principle in man will ever
be annihilated.

In so far as our knowledge of the universe ex-
tends, there does notappeara single instance of an-
nihilation throughout the material sy.steni. There
is no reason to believe, that, throughout all the
worlds which are dispersed through the immen-
sity of space, a single atom has ever yet been, or
ever will be annihilated. P'rom a variety of obser-
vations, it appears highly probable, that the work
of creation is still going forward in the distant
regions of tlie universe, and tliat the Creator is
replenishing the voids of space with new worlds
and new orders of intelligent beings; audit is rea-
sonable to believe, from the incessant agency of
Divine Omnipotence, that new systems will be
continually emerging into existence while eternal
ages are rolling on. But no instance has yet occur-
red of any system or portion of matter either in
heaven or earth having been reduced to anniliila-
tion. Changes are indeed incessantly taking place,
in countless variety, throughout every department
of nature. The spots of the sun, the belts of Ju-
piter, the surface of the moon, the rings of Saturn,
and several portions of the starry heavens, are fre-
quently changing or varying their aspects. On
the earth, mountains are crumbling down, the
caverns of the ocean filling up, islands are emer-
ging from the bottom of the sea, and again sink-
ing into the abyss ; the ocean is frequently shift-
ing its boundaries, and trees, plants, and waving
grain now adorn many trjcts which were once

34

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

overwhelmed with the foaming lillows. Eartli-
quakes have produced freqiient devastations, vol-
canoes liave overwhelmed fruitful fields with tor-
rents of burning lava, and even the solid strata
within the bowels of the earth have been bent and
disrupted by the operation of some tremendous
power. The invisible atmosphere is likewise the
Bcene of perpetual changes and revolutions, by the
mixture and decomposition of gases, the respira-
tion of animals, the process of evaporation, the
action of winds, and the agencies of light, heat,
and the electric and magnetic fluids. The vege-
table kingdom is either progressively advancing
to maturity or falling into decay. Between the
plants and the seeds of vegetables there is not the
most distant similarity. A small seed, only one-
tenth of an inch in diameter, after rotting for a
while in the earth, shoots forth a stem ten thou-
sand times greater in size than the germ from
which it sprung, the branches of which afford an
ample shelter for the fov Is of heaven. The tribes
of animated nature are 1 Jcewise in a state of pro-
gressive change, either from infancy to maturity
and old age, or from one state of existence to an-
other. The caterpillar is first an egg, next, a
crawling wonn, then a nymph or chrysalis, and
afterward a butterfly adorned with the most gau-
dy colors. The may-bug beetle burrows in the
earth where it drops its egg, from which its young
creeps out in the shape of a maggot, which casts
Its skin every year, and, in the fourth year, it bursts
from the earth, unfolds its wings, and sails iai rap-
ture « through the soft air. " The animal and
vegetable tribes are blended, by a variety of won-
derful and incessant changes. Animal produc-
tions afford food and nourishment to the vegeta-
ble tribes, and the various parts of animals are
compounded of matter derived from the vegetable
kingdom. The wool of the sheep, the horns of
the cow, the teeth of the lion, the feathers of the
peacock, and the skin of the deer — nay, even our
hands and feet, our eyes and ears, with which we
handle and walk, see and hear, and the crimson
fluid that circulates in our veins — are derived
from plants and herbs which once grew in the
fields, which demonstrate the literal truth of the
ancient saying, "All flesh is grass."

Still, however, amidst these various and unceas-
ing changes and transformations, no example of
annihilation has yet occurred to the eye of the
most penetrating observer. When a piece of coal
undergoes the process of combustion, its previous
form disappears, and its component parts are dis-
solved, but the elementary particles of which it
was composed still remain in existence. Part of
it is changed into caloric, part into gas, and part
into tar, smoke, and ashes, which are sooii formed
nto other combinations. When vegetables die,
or are decomposed by heat or cold, they are resol-
ved into their primitive elements, caloric, light,
hydrogen, oxygen, and carbon, — which immedi-
ately enter into new combinations, and assist in
carrying forward the designs of Providence in
other departments of nature. But such incessant
changes, so far from militating against the idea of
the future existence of man, are, in realitj', pre-
sumptive proofs of his immortal destination. For,
if amidst the perpetual transfonnations, changes,
and revolutions that are going forward through-
out universal nature in all its departments, no par-
ticle of matter is ever lost, or reduceed to nothing,
it is in the highest degree improbable, that the
thinking principle in man will be destroyed, by
the change which takes place at the moment of
his dissolution. That change, however great and
interesting to the individual, may be not more won-

derful, nor more mysterious than the changes
which take place in the different states of existence
to which a caterpillar is destined. This animal^
as already stated, is first an eg^, and how different
does its form appear when it comes forth a crawl-
ing worm ? After living some time in the caterpil-
lar state, it begins to languish, and apparently dies;
it is encased in a tomb and appears devoid of life and
enjoyment. After a certain period it acquires new
life and vigor, bursts its confinement, appears in a
more glorious form, mounts upward on expanded
wings, and traverses the regions of tiie air. And, is it
not reasonable from analogy, to believe, that man«
in his present state, is only the rudiments of what he
shall be hereafter in a more expansive sphere of
existence? and that, when the body is dissolved in
death, the soul takes its ethereal flight into a celes-
tial region, puts on immortality, and becomes "all
eye, all ear, all ethereal and divine feeling?"

Since, then, it appears that annihilation forma
no part of the plan of the Creator in the material
world, is it reasonable to suppose,that a system of an-
nihilation is in incessant operation in the world of
mind? that God is every day creating thousands of
minds, indued with the most capacious powers, and
at the same time, reducing to eternal destruction
thousands of those which he had formerly created?
Shall the material universe exist amidst all its va-
riety of changes, and shall that noble creature _/br
whose sake the universe icas created, be cut off for-
ever in the infancy of its being, and doomed to
eternal forgetfulness? Is it consistent with the
common dictates of reason to admit, that matter
shall have a longer duration than mind, which
gives motion and beauty to every material scene?
shall the noble structures of St. Paul and St. Peter,
survive the ravages of time, and display their beau-
tiful proportions to successive generations, while
Wren and Angelo, the architects that planned
them, are .reduced to the condition of the clods of
the valley? Shall the "Novum Organum" of jBa-
con, and the "Optics" and"Principia" of Newton,
descend to future ages, to unfold their sublime
conceptions, while the illustrious minds which gave
birth to these productions, are enveloped in the
darkness of eternal night? There appears a palpa-
ble absurdity and inconsistency in admitting such
conclusions. We might almost as soon believe that
the universe would continue in its present har-
mony and order, were its Creator ceasing to exist
" Suppose that the Deity, through all the lapse of
past ages, has supported the universe by such
miracles of power and wisdom as have already
been displayed — merely that he might please him-
self with letting it fall to pieces, and enjoy the
spectacle of the fabric lying in ruins" — would
such a design be worth}' of infinite Wisdom, or
conformable to the ideas we ought to entertain of
a Being eternal and immutable in his nature, and
possessed of boundless perfection? But suppose,
farther, that he will annihilate that rational nature
for whose sake he created the universe, while the
material fabric was still permitted to remain in
existence, would it not appear still more incom-
patible with the attributes of a being of unbound-
ed goodness and intelligence? To blot out from
existence the rational part of his creation, and to
cherish desolation and a heap of rubbish, is such
an act of inconsistency, that the mind shrinks
back with horror at the thought of attributing it
to the All-Wise and Benevolent Creator.

We are, therefore, necessarily led to the follow-
ing conclusion: " That, when the human body 19
dissolved, the immaterial principle by which it waa
animated, continues to think and act, either in a
state of separation from all body, or in som*

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

35

material vehicle to which it is intimately united, and
which goes ofT with it at death; orelso, thatit ispre-
eerved by the Fatiier of spirits for tlio purpose of ani-
mating a body in some future state." Tile soul con-
tains no principle of dissolution within itself, since
it is an immaterial uncompounded substance; and,
thorefore, altliough the material creation were to
be dissolved and to fall into ruins, its energies
might still remain unimpaired, and its faculties
" flourish in immortal youth,

" Unhurt, ajnidstthe war of element*,
J The wreck of ni.'itler and the ciusii of worlds."

And the Creator is under no necessity to annihi-
late the soul for waht of power to support its fac-
ulties, for want of objects on which to exercise
them, or for want of space to contain the innu-
merable intelligences that are incessantly emerg-
ing into existence; for the range of immensity is
the theater of his Omnipotence, and that powerful
Energy, which has already brought millions of
systems into existence, can as easily replenish the
universe with ten thousand millions more. If
room were wanted for ncwcreations, ten thousand
additional worlds could be comprised within the
limits of the solar system, while a void space of
more than a hundred and eighty thousand miles
would still intervene between the orbits of the
respective globes; and the immeasurable spaces
which intervene between our planetary system
and the nearest stars, would afford an ample range
for the revolutions of millions of worlds. And,
therefore, although every soul, on quitting its
mortal frame, were clothed with a new material
vehicle, there is ample scope in the spaces of the
universe, and in the Omnipotent energies of the
Creator, for the full exercise of all its powers, and
for every enjoyment requisite to its happiness.
So that in every point of view, in which we can con-
template the soul of man and the perfections of its
Creator, it appears not only improbable, but even
absurd in the highest degree, to suppose that the
epark of intelligence in man will ever be extin-
guished.

SECTION XL

On the gloomy considerations and absurd con-
seduences i.nvolved in the denial of a future

STATE.

The denial of the doctrine of a future state in-
volves in it an immense variety of gloomy consid-
erations and absurd consequences.

If the doctrine of a future existence beset aside,
man appears an enigma, a rude abortion, and a
monster in nature, his structure is inexplicable,
and the end for which he was created an unfath-
omable mystery; the moral world is a scene of
confusion, the ways of Providence a dark impen-
etrable maze, the universe avast, mysterious, and
inexplicable system, and the Deity a Being whose
perfections and purposes can never be traced nor
unfolded.

Let us suppose, for a few moments, that there
Is no state of existence beyond the grave, and con-
sequently, that the supposed discoveries of Rev-
«lationare a mere delusion; and consider some of
tlie gloomy prospects and absurd consequences to
which such a supposition necessarily leads. I
shall suppose myself standing in an attitude of seri-
ous contemplation, and of anxious inquiry respect-
mg the various scenes and objects which surround
me, and the events that pass under my review: —

J first of all look into myself, and inquire,

whence I came? whither I am going? who pro-
duced me? of what my body is composed? what
is the nature of my senses? of the thinking prin-
ciple I feel within me? and for what purpose was
I ushered into being? I perceive in my body a
wonderful mechanism which I cannot compre-
hend: I find by experience, that my will exercises
a sovereign power over my muscular system, so
that my hands, feet, arms, and limbs, are dispos-
ed to obey every impulse, and, at the signal of. a
wish, to transport my body from one place to an-
other. I find my thinking principle intimately
connected with my coiporeal frame, and both ac-
ting reciprocally on each other; but I cannot fathr
om the manner in which these operations are ef-
fected. I feel ardent desires after enjoyments in
wiiich I never shall participate, and capacities for
knowledge and improvement which I never can
attain. I feel restless and uneasy, even amidst
the beauties of nature, and the pleasures of the
senses. I ask whence proceeds the want I feel
amidst all my enjoyments? Wherefore can I
never cease from wishing for something in addition
to what I now possess? Whence arises the dis-
gust that so quickly succeeds every sensitive en-
joyment, and the want I feel even in the midst of
abundance? I ask why I was called into existence
at this point of duration, rather than at any other
period of that incomprehensible eternity which is
past, or that which is j'et to come? why, amidst
the vast spaces with which I am encompassed, and
the innumerable globes which surround me, I waa
chained down to this obscure corner of creation
from which I feel unable to transport myself?
why I was ushered into life in Britain, and not in
Papua or New Zealand? and why I was formed
to walk erect and not prone, as the inferior ani-
mals? To all such inquiries I can find no satisfac-
tory answers, — the whole train of circumstances
connected with mj"^ existence appears involved in
impenetrable darkness and mystery. Of one thing
only I am fully assured, that my body shall, ere
long, be dissolved and mingle with the dust, and
my intellectual faculties, desires, and capacities
for knowledge be forever annihilated in the tomb
I shall then be reduced lo nothing, and be as
though I never had been, while myriads of beings,
like myself, shall start into existence, and perish
in like manner, in perpetual succession through-
out an eternity to come.

I look backward through ages past — I behold
everything wrapped in obscurity, and perceive no
traces of a beginning to the vast system around
me, — I stretch forward toward futurity, and per-
ceive no prospect of an end. All things appear to
continue as they were from generation to gen-
eration, invariably subjected to the same move-
ments, revolutions, and changes, without any dis-
tinct marks which indicate either a beginning or
an end. — I look around on the scene of terrestrial
nature — I perceive many beauties in the verdant
landscape, and many objects the mechanism of
which is extremely delicate and admirable — I in-
hale tlie balmy zephyrs, am charmed with the
music of the groves, the splendor of the sun, and
the variegated coloring spread over the face of cre-
ation. But I behold other scenes, which inspire
melancholy and terror. The tempest, the hurri-
cane, and the tornado; the sirocco, the saraiel and
other poisonous winds of the desert; the appalling
thunder cloud, the forked lightnings, the earth-
quake shaking kingdoms, and the volcano pouring
fiery streams around its base, which desolate vil-
lages and cities in their course. — I behold in one
place a confused assemblage of the ruins of nature
in the form of snow-capped mountains, precipices,

Sf)

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

chasms and caverns; in another, extensive marsh-
es and immense deserts of Iwrrcn sand; and, in
another, a large proportion of the globe a scene
of sterile desol;ition, and bound in the fetters of
eternal ice. I know not what opinion to form of
a world where so many beauties are blended with
80 much deformity, and so many pleasures min-
gled with so many sorrows and scenes of terror,
— or what ideas to entertain of Him who formed
it. But 1 need give myself no trouble in inqui-
ring inlo sucli subjects; for my time on earth is
short and uncertain, and when I sink into the
arms of death, I shall have no more connec-
tion witli the universe.

I take a retrospective view of the moral world
in past ages, in so far as authentic history serves
as a guide, and perceive little else but anarchy,
desolation and carnage — the strong oppressing the
weak, the powerful and wealthy trampling under
foot the poor and indigent — plunderers, robbers,
and murderers, ravaging kingdoms, and drench-
ing the earth with human gore. I beliold the
virtuous and innocent persecuted, robbed and
massacred, while bloody tyrants and oppressors
roll in their splendid chariots, and revel amidst
the luxuries of a palace. In such scenes I per-
ceive nothing like regularity or order, nor any
traces of justice or equity in the several allotments
of mankind; for since their whole existence ter-
minates in the grave, the virtuous sufferer can
never be rewarded, nor the unrighteous despot
suffer the punishment due to his crimes. The
great mass of human beings appear to be the sport
of circumstances, the victims of oppression, and
the dupes of knavery and ambition, and the moral
world at large an assemblage of discordant ele-
ments tossed about like dust before the whirlwind.
I hear virtue applauded, and vice denounced as
odious and hateful. But what is virtue? A sha-
dow, a phantom, an empty name! Why should
I follow after virtue if she interrupts my pleasures,
and why should I forsake vice if she points out
the path to present enjoyment? It is my wisdom
to enjoy life during the short period it continues;
and if riches be conducive to my enjoyment of
happiness, why should I fear to procure them
either by deceit, perjury, or rapine? If sensual
indulgence contribute to my pleasure, why should
I refrain from drunkenness and debauchery, or
any other action that suits my convenience or
gratifies my passions, since present enjoyments
are all I can calculate upon, and no retributions
await me bej^ond the grave?

I feel myself subjected to a vai-iety of sufferings,
disappointments and sorrows — to poverty and re-
proach, loss of friends, corporeal pains and men-
tal anguish. I am frequently tortured by the
recollection of the past, the feeling of the present,
and the dread of approaching sufferings. But I
see no object to be attained, no end to be accom-
plished by my subjection to such afflictions: I
suffer merely for the purpose of feeling pain,
wasting my body and hastening its dissolution: I
am sick only to languish under the burden of a
feeble emaciated frame — perplexed and downcast
only to sink into deeper perplexities and sorrows,
oppressed with cares and difficulties only to enter
on a new scene of danger and suffering. No
drop of comfort mingles itself with the bitter cup
of sorrow; no affliction is sweetened and alleviated
by the prospect of a better world; for the gloomy
mansions of the grave bound my views and ter-
minate all my hopes and fears. How, then, can
I be easy under my sufferings? how can I be
cordially resigned to the destiny which appointed
them? or how can I trace the benevolence of a

superior Being in permitting mo thus to be pain*
ed and tormented for no end? I will endeavor to
bear them with resolute desperation, merely be-
cause I ani borne down by necessity to pain and
affliction, and cannot possibly avoid them.

I lift my eyes to the regions above, and con-
tem]dato the splendors of tiio starry frame. What
an immensity of suns, and systems and worlds
burst upon ray view, when I apply the telescope
to the spaces of the firmament! How incalcula-
ble their number! how immeasurable their dis-
tance! iiow immense their magnitude! how glori-
ous their splendor! how sublime their movementsl
When 1 attempt to grasp this stupendous scene,
my haauhnation is bewildered, and my faculties
overpowered with wonder and amazement. I
gaze, I ponder; I feel a longing desire to know
something farther respecting the nature and des-
tination of these distant orbs; but my vision is
bounded to a general glimpse, my powers are limit-
ed, and when I would fly away to those distant re-
gions, I find myself chained down, by an overpower-
ing force, to the diminutive ball on which 1 dwell.
Wherefore, then, were the heavens so beautifully
adorned, and so much magnificence displayed in
their structure, and why v/ere they ever presented
to my view; since I am never to become farther
acquainted with the scenes they unfold? Perhaps
this is the last glance I shall take of the mighty
concave before my eyes have closed in endless night
"Wherefore was light given to him that is in
misery, — to a man whose way is hid, and whom
God hath hedged in?" Had I been inclosed in a
gloomy dungeon my situation had been tolerable,
but here I stand as in a splendid palace, without
comfort and without hope, expecting death every
moment to terminate my prospects; and when it
arrives, the glories of the heavens to me will be
annihilated forever.

I behold science enlarging its boundaries, and
the arts advancing toward perfection; I see nu-
merous institutions organizing, and hear lectures
on philosophy delivered for the improvement of
mankind, and I am invited to take a part in those
arrangements which are calculated to produce a
general diffusion of knowledge among all ranks.
But of what use is knowledge to beings who are
soon to lose all consciousness of existence? It re-
quires many weary steps and sleepless nights to
climb the steep ascent of science; and when we
have arrived at the highest point which mortals
have ever reached, we descry still loftier regions
which we never can approach, — our footing fails,
and down we sink into irretrievable ruin. If our
progress in science here were introductory to a
future scene of knowledge and enjoyment, it
would be worthy of being prosecuted by every
rational intelligence; but to beings who are un-
certain whether they shall exist in the universe
for another day, it is not only superfluous, but
unfriendly to their present enjoyments. For, the
less knowledge they acquire of the beauties and
sublimities of nature, and the more brutish, igno-
rant and sottish they become, the less they will
feel at the moment when they are about to be
launched into non-existence. Let the mass of
mankind, then, indulge themselves in whatever
frivolous amusements they may choose; do not
interrupt their sensual pleasures, hj vainly at-
tempting to engage them in intellectual pursuits;
let them eat and drink, and revel and debauch, for
to-morrow they die. All that is requisite, is, to
entwine the chains of despotism around their
necks, to prevent them from aspiring after the en-
joyments of their superiors.

In short, I endeavor to form some conception!

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF I^ATURE.

37

of the attributes of tliat great unknown Cause
which produced all things around me. But my
thoughts become bewildered amidst a maze of un-
accountable operations, of apparent contradictions
and inconsistencies. I evidently'perceivcthat (he
Creator of the universe is possessed of boundless
power, but I see no good reason to conclude that
he exercises unerring wisdom, unbounded good-
ness and impartial justice. I perceive, indeed,
some traces of.wisdom, in the construction of my
body and its several organs of sensation; and of
goodness, in the smiling day, the flowery land-
scape, and the fertile plains; but I know not how
to reconcile these, with some other parts of
his operations. How can I attribute the perfec-
tion of wisdom to one who has implanted in my
constitution desires whicli will never be gratified,
and furnished me with moral and intellectual fac-
ulties which will never be fully exercised, and
who has permitted the moral world in every
age to exhibit a scene o,. disorder? I perceive no
evidences of his benevolence in subjecting me to
a variety of sorrows and sufferings which ac-
complish no end but the production of pain; in
tantalizing me with hopes, and alarming mo with
fears of futurity which are never to be realized,
and in throwing a vail of mystery over all his
purposes and operations. Nor can I trace any-
thing like impartial justice in the bestowment of
his favors, for disappointments and sorrows are
equally the lot of the righteous, and the wick-
ed, and frequently it happens that the innocent
are punished and disgraced, while villains and de-
bauchees are permitted to glory in their crimes.
All that I can plainly perceive, is, the operation
of uncontrollable power dii'ccted by no principle
but caprice, and accomplishing nothing that can
inspire ardent affection, or secure the permanent
happiness of rational beings.

Such are some of the gloomy reflections of a
hopeless mortal whose prospect is bounded by
the grave; and such are some of the horrible con-
sequences which the denial of a future state ne-
cessarily involves. It throws a vail of darkness
over the scenes of creation, and wraps in impene-
trable mystery the purposes for which man was
created, — it exhibits the moral world as a chaotic
mass of discordant elements, accomplishing no end,
and controlled by no intelligent agenc}^ — it rep-
resents mankind as connected with each other
merely by time and place, as formed merely for
sensual enjoyment, and destined to perish with
the brutes, — it subverts the foundations of moral
action, removes the strongest motives to the prac-
tice of virtue, and opens the flood-gates of every
vice, — it removes the anchor of hope from the
anxious mind, and destroys ever)» principle that
has a tendency to support us in the midst of suf-
ferings,— it throws a damp on every effort to raise
mankind to the dignity of their moral and intel-
lectual natures, and is calculated to obstruct the
progress of useful science, — it prevents the mind
from investigating and admiring the beauties of
creation, and involves in a deeper gloom the ruins
of nature which are scattered over the globe, — it
terminates every prospect of becoming more
fully acquainted with the glories of the firmament
and every hope of beholding the plans of Provi-
dence completely unfolded, — it involves the char-
acter of the Deity in awful obscurity, it deprives
Him of the attributes of infinite wisdom, benevo-
lence j.nd rectitude, and leaves him little more
than boundless omnipotence, acting at random,
and controlled by no beneficent agency. In short,
it obliterates every motive to the performance of
noble and generous actions, damps the finest feel-

ings and affections of humanity, leads to universal
ske])ticism, cuts off' the prospect of everything
which tends to cheer the traveler in his pilgrimage
through life, and presents to his view nothing but
an immense blank, overspread with the blackues*
of darkness forever.

Such being the blasphemous and absurd conse-
quences which flow from the denial of the doc-
trine of a future state of retrihiiticn — the man
who obstinately maintains such a position, must
bo considered as unworthy not only of the name
of a philosopher, but of that of a rational being,
and as one who would believe against demonstra-
tion, and swallow any absurdity, however extrava-
gant, which quadrates with his groveling appe-
tites and passions. Mathematicians frequently
demonstrate a truth by showing that its contrary
is impossible, or involves an absurdity. Thus,
Euclid demonstrates the truth of the fourth
proposition of the first book of his Elementg,
by showing that its contrary implies this ob-
vious absurdity — "that two straight lines may
enclose a space." This mode of proving the
truth of a proposition is considered by every ge-
ometrician, as equally conclusive and satisfactory,
as the direct method of demonstration; because
the contrary of every falsehood must be truth,
and the contrary of every truth, falsehood. And
if this mode of demonstration is conclusive in math-
ematics, it ought to be considered as equally con-
clusive in moral and theological reasoning. If,
for example, the denial of a future existence in-
volves in it the idea that God is not a Being possess-
ed of impartial justice, and of perfect wisdom and
goodness — notwithstanding the striking displays
of the two last mentioned attributes in the system
of nature — we must, I presume, either admit the
doctrine of the immortality of man, or deny that
a Supreme Intelligence presides over the affairs of
the universe. For, a Being divested of these at-
tributes, is not entitled to the name of Deity, nor
calculated to inspire intelligent'minds with adora-
tion and love; but it is reduced to something like
uncontrollable fate, or mere physical force, impel-
ling the movements of universal nature with-
out a plan, without discrimination, and without
intelligence. On the same principle (the reductio
ad absurdum), we demonstrate the eartii's annual
revolution round the sun. The motions of the
planets, as viewed from the earth, present an in-
explicable maze contrary to everything we should
expect in a well arranged and orderly system.

These bodies appear sometimes to move back-
ward, sometimes forward, sometimes to remain
stationary, and to describe looped curves, so ano-
malous or confused, that we cannot suppose an
Infinite Intelligence the contriver of a system of
such inextricable confusion. Hence the astro-
nomer concludes, on good grounds, that the earth
is a moving body; and no one thoroughly ac-
quainted with the subject ever calls it in question:
for when our globe is considered as revolving
round the center' of the system in concert with
the other planetary orbs, all the apparent irregula-
rities in their motions are completely accounted for,
and the whole system appears reduced to a beau-
tiful and harmonious order, in accordance with
every idea we ought to form of the wisdom and
intelligence of its author.

In the same way, the admission of the doctrine
of a future state accounts for the apparent irregu-
larities of the moral world, and affords a key for
a solution of all the difficulties that may arise in
the mind respecting the equity of the Divine ad-
ministration in the present state. In opposition to
the desponding reflections and gloomy views of the

88

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

akeptic, it inspires the virtuous mind with a lively
hope, and throws a glorious radiance over tlio
scenes of creation, auJ over every part of the
government of the Almighty. It exhibits the Self-
existent and Eternal Mind as an object of ineffable
sublimity, grandeur, and loveliness, invested with
unerring wisdom, impartial justice, and boundless
benevolence, presiding over an endless train of in-
telligent minds formed after his image, governing
them with just and equitable laws, controlling all
things by an almighty and unerring hand, and
rendering all his dispensations ultimately condu-
cive to the happiness of the moral universe. It
presents before us an unboun;led scene, in which
we mav hope to contemplate the scheme of Provi-
dence in all its objects and bearings, where the
glories of the divine perfections will be illustriously
displayed, where the powers of the human mind
will be perpetually expanding, and new objects of
sublimity and beauty incessantly rising to the view,
in boundless perspective, world without end. It
dispels the clouds that hang over the present and
future destiny of man, and fully accounts for those
longing looks into futurity which accompany us
at every turn, and those capacious powers of intel-
lect, wliich cannot be fully exerted in the present
life. It presents the most powerful motives to a
life of virtue, to the performance of beneficent
and heroic actions, to the prosecution of substan-
tial science, and to the diffusion of useful know-
ledge among all ranks of mankind. It affords the
strongest consolation and support, amidst the trials
of life, and explains the reasons of those sufferings
to which we are here exposed, as being incentives
to the exercise of virtue, and as " working out for
us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of
glory." It affords us ground to hope that the vail
which now intercepts our view of the distant re-
gions of creation, will be withdrawn, and that the
amazing structure of the universe, in all its sub-
lime proportions and beautiful arrangements, will
be more clearly unfolded to our view. It dispels
the terrors which naturally surround the messenger
of death, and throws a radiance over the mansions
of the tomb. It cheers the gloomy vale of death,
and transforms it into a passage which leads to a
world of perfection and happiness, where moral
evil shall be forever abolished, where intellectual
light shall beam with effulgence on the enraptured
spirit, and v.'here celestial virtue, now so frequent-
ly persecuted and contemned, shall be enthroned
in undisturbed and eternal empire.

Since, then, it appears that the denial of a future
state involves in it so many difficulties, absurd
consequences and blasphemous assumptions, and
the admission of this doctrine throws a light over
the darkness that broods over the moral world,
presents a clue to unravel the mazes of the divine
dispensations, and solves every difficulty in relation
to the present condition of the human race — the
pretended philosopher who rejects this important
truth must be considered as acting in direct oppo-
sition to those principles of reasoning which he
uniformly admits in his physical and mathemat-
ical investigations, and as determined to resist the
force of ever}' evidence which can be adduced in
proof of his immortal destination.

Thus I have endeavored, ih the preceding pages,
to prove and illustrate the immortality of man,
from a consideration of the universal belief which
this doctrine has obtained among all nations — the
desire of immortality implanted in the human
Breast — the strong desire of knowledge, and the ca-

paciovs intellectual powers with which man is fur-
nished— the capacity of making perpetual progress
toward intellectual and moral perfection — the un-
limited range nfvieic which is opened to the human
mind throughout the immensity of space and dura-
tion— the moral powers of action with which man
is indued — the forebodings and apprehensions of the
mind when under the influence of remorse — the
disordered state of the nwral world when contrast-
ed with the systematical order of the material — tho
unequal distribution of rewards and punishments,
viewed in connection with the justice of God — the
ahsurditi/ of admitting that the thinking principle in
wan will be annihilated — and the blasphemous and
absurd consequences which would follow if the idea
of a future state of retribution were rejected.

Perhaps there are some of these arguments,
taken singly, that would be insufficient fully to es-
tablish the truth of man's eternal destiny; but
when taken in combination with each other, they
carry irresistible evidence to the mind of every
unbiased inquirer. They all reflect a mutual lus-
ter on each other; they hang together in perfect
harmony; they are fully consistent with the most
amiable and sublime conceptions we can form of
the Deity; they are congenial to the sentiments
entertained by the wisest and best of men in every
age; they are connected with all the improvement
and discoveries in the moral and physical worlds;
and, like the radii of a circle, the}'^ all converge to
the same point, and lead directly to the same con-
clusion. It appears next to impossible, that such
a mutual harmony, consistency, and dependence,
could exist among a series of propositions that had
no foundation in truth; and, therefore, they ought
to be considered, when taken conjunctly, as hav-
ing all the force of a moral demonstration. They
rest on the same principles and process of reason-
ing from which we deduce the being of a God;
and I spe no way of eluding their force, but by
erasing from the mind every idea of a Supreme
Intelligence. Hence, it has generallj', I might
say, uniformly been found, that all nations that
have acknowledged the existence of a Divine Be-
ing, have likewise recognized the idea of a future
state of retribution. These two fundamental pro-
positions are so intimately connected, and the lat-
ter is so essentially dependent on the former, that
they must stand or fall together. And, conse-
quently, we find, that the man who obstinately
rejects the doctrine of a future state, either avows
himself a downright atheist, or acts precisely in
the same way as a person would do, who believes
that a Supreme Moral Governor has no existence.
But even the principles of atheism itself, though
frequently embraced by vicious characters to allay
their fears, are*not sufficient to remove all appre-
hensions in regard to a future existence. For, if
tho universe be the production merely of an eter-
nal succession of causes and effects, produced by
blind necessity impelling the atoms of matter
through the voids of immensity — what should hin-
der, that amidst the infinite combinations arising
from perpetual motion, men should be created, de-
stroyed, and again ushered into existence, with the
same faculties, reminiscences, perceptions and rela-
tions as in their foi-mer state of existence? And,
although thousands or millions of years should in-
tervene between such transformations, yet such
periods might appear as short and imperceptible
as the duration which passes while our facultiea
are absorbed in a sound repose. The idea of infi-
nity, immensity, and an endless succession of
changes, renders such a supposition notaltogethef
impossible. But what a dreadful futurity might
not the mind be left to picture to itself in such a

PROOFS FROM THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

3d

ease? If the movements of the universe were the
productions of chance, directed by no intelligent
agency, we should inces-iiuilly bo haunted with tiie
most ilreadful anticipalions. Wo should see the
images of death, anniiiilation, and reproduction
advancing before us in the most terrific forms, and
should find it impossiiile to determine on what
foundation the hoji's and the destiny of iiiti-lliiren-
Ces reposed. We should bo uncertain whetli'T
mankind were doomed to perish irrecoverably, or,
by the operation of some unknown cause, or acci-
dent, to be reproduced, at some future period in
duration, and devoted to endless torments. The
comparative order and tranquillity which now sub-
sist, or have subsisted for agi^s past, could afford us
no ground of hope that such consequences would
not take place: for all the- revolutions of time to
which we can look back, are but as a moment in the
midst of infinite duration, and the whole earth but
5 point in the immensity of space. So that, during
the lapse of infinite ages, cliauges, revolutions and
transformations might be efFected, which might
overwhelm all the intelligent beings that ever ex-
isted, in eternal misery. Hence it appears, that
even atheism itself, with all its mass of contradic-
tions and absurdities, cannot entirely shelter its
abettors from the terrors of an unknown futurity.
I shall only remark farther, on this part of my
subject, — that, although the arguments now ad-
duced in support of the immortality of man were
less powerful than they really are, they ought to
make a deep impression on the mind of every re-
flecting person, and determine the line of conduct
which he ought to pursue. If they were only
probable — if they possessed no greater degree of
weight than simply to overbalance the opposite
arguments, still, it would be every man's interest
to act on tha supposition, that a future world has
ft real existence. For, in the ordinary affairs of
human life, and even in the sciences, our opin-
ions and conduct are generally determined by a
aeries of probabilities, and a concurrence of rea-
cons, which supply the want of more conclusive
evidence on subjects which are not susceptible
of strict demonstration. A merchant, when he
purchases a certain commodity, has no demonstra-
tive evidence thiit the sale of it shall ultiinately
turn to his advantage; but, from a consideration
of its price and quality, of the circumstances of
trade, and of his immediate prospects, he deter-
mines on the purchase ; and, by acting on the
ground of similar probabilities, he conducts his
affairs, so as to issue in his prosperity and success.
A philosopher has no demonstrative arguments to
support tlie one-half of the opinions he has
formed, in relation to the phenomena of human
society, and of the material world. His deduc-
tions respecting the causes of the winds, of thunder
and ligiitning, of volcanic eruptions, of the na-
ture of light, sound, electricity, galvanism, and
other operations in the system of nature, are
grounded on that species of reasoning vi'hich is
termed analogical, and which, at best, amounts to
nothing more than a high degree of probability.
Notwithstanding, he feels no hesitation in prose-
cuting his experiments and researches, und'-r the
guidance of such reasoning, confident that it
drill ultimately lead hijn to the innennost recesses
of the temple of truth ; for we know, that the
moat S|)lendid discoveries of modern times, have
originated from inquiries and observations, con-
ducted on the ground of analogical reasoning.
In like manner, in the important subject under
consideration, we ought to be determined in onr
views and conduct, even by prnhabilities, although
the arguments adduced should leave the question

Vol. I.— 13

at i^sue in some measure undetermined. For, if
an eternal world has a real existence, we not oiily
embnice an error in rejecting tiiis idea, but, by
acting in conformity with our erroneous concep-
tions, run t!ie risk of exposing ourselves to the
most drf.adful and appalling consequences. Where-
as, if there be no future state, the belief of it,
accoiiipanii'd with a corr^'sponding conduct, can
prodn(;e no bad etfcct eitlu-r upon our own miiida
or those of others. On the contrary, it would
prove a pleasing illusion during our passage,
through a world of physical and moral evil, and
would revive the downcast spirit, when over-
whelmed with the disappointments^ and sorrows
which are niiavoidable in our present condition.
So that, even in this case, we might adopt the
sentiment of an ancient philosopher,* and say —
"If I am wrong in believing that the souls of
men are immortal, I please myself in my mistake;
nor while I live will I ever choose that this opin-
ion, with which I am so much delighted, should
be wrested from me. But if, at death, I am to be
annihilated, as some minute,philosophers suppose,
I am not afraid lest those wise men, when ex-
tinct too, should laugh at my error."

But, if the arguments we have brought for-
ward, amount, not only to bare probability, but to
moral certainty, or, at least, to something nearly
approximating to moral demonstration — if the
opposite opinion involves a train of absurdities,
if it throws a dismal gloom over the destiny of
man, and over the scenes of the universe, and if
it robs the Almighty of the most glorio'is and
distinguishing attributes of his nature — no words
arc sufficient to express the folly and inconsisten-
cy of the man, by whatever title he may be dis-
tinguished, who is determined to resist conviction,
and who resolutely acts, as if the idea of a future
world were a mere chimera. To pass through
life with indifference and unconcern, to overlook
the solemn scenes of the invisible world, and to
brave the terrors of the Almighty, which may be
displayed in that state — in the face of such
powerful arguments as even reason can produce
— is not only contrary to every prudential princi-
ple of conduct, but the hight of infatuation and
madness. Such persons must be left to be aroused
to consideration, by the awful conviction which
will flash upon their minds, when they are trans-
ported to that eternal state which they now dis-
regard,and find themselves placed at the bar of au
ahnighty and impartial Judge.

Among the considerations which have been
adduced to prove the immortality of man, I have
taken no notice of an argument, which is almost
exclusively dwelt upon by some writers, namely,
that which is founded on the immateriality of the
human soul. I have declined entering upon any
illustration of this topic, — 1. Because the proof
of the soul's immateriality involves a variety of
abstract metaphysical discussion«, and requires
replies to various objections which have been
raised against it, which would tend only to per-
plex readers endowed with plain common sense.
2. Because tlw doctrine of the immateriality of
the thinking principle, however clearly it may be
proved, can add nothing to the weight of the
considerations already brought forward; nor,
when considered by itself. Can it afford any con-
clusive argument in favor of the soul's immor-
tality. It simply leads us to this conclusion, —
that, since the soul is an uncompounded sub-
stance, it cannot perish by a decomposition of ita
parts; and consequently, may exist, in a separata -

* Cicero.

40

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATR

state, in the tU' exercise of its powers, after its
corporeal tencineut is aissolvcd. But its iinmor-
talily cannot necessarily be inferrod from its
natural capacity of existing in a slate of separa-
tion from tilt", body; for tiuit being who created
it may, if he pleases, reduce it to auniliilation, since
all the works of God, whother material or im-
material, depend \?holIy on that power by which
they were originally brouglit into existence. Its
immortality depends solely on the will of its
Creator, witlioiit wliose sustaining energy the
whole creation would sink into its original no-
thing. If it could be proved that God will employ
his power to auuihilate the soul, in vain should
we attempt to demonstrate that it is naturally im-
mortal. But whether God wills that the soul
should be destroyed at death, is a veiy different
question from that which relates to its nature as
an immaterial substance. The whole train of
argument illustrated in the preceding pages, af-
fords, I presume, satisfactory evidence that the
Creator will never annihilate the human soul, but
has destined it to remain in the vigorous exercise
of its noble faculties to all eternity.

Hence it follows, that it is a matter of trivial
importance, when considering the arguments
which prove our immortal destiny, whether we
view the soul as a material, or as an immaterial
substance. Suppose I were to yield to the skep-
tic, for a moment, the position, " that the soul is
a material substance, and cannot exist but in con-
nection with a material frame," what would he
gain by the concession? It would not subtract a
single atom from the weight of evidence which
has already been brought forward to prove the
immortality of man. b or, if we can prove that
God has willed the immortality of the soul, and,
consequently, has determined to interpose his al-
mighty power, in order to support its faculties
tliroughout an eternal existence, in vain shall he
have proved that it is not immortal in its nature.
He who created the human soul and indued it
with so many noble faculties, can continue its

existence, through an unlimited extent of dura-
tion, in a thousand modes incomi)reh«nsible to ua
If a material system of organical powers be ne-
cessjy-y for tlie exercise of its energies, he can
either clothe it with a fine ethereal vehicle, at the
moment its present tenement is dissolved, or con-
nect it, in another region of the universe, with
a corporeal frame of move exquisite workmanship,
analogous to that which it now animates. For
aiiytliing we know to the contniry, there may
be some fine material system, with '.vhich it ia
essmtially connected, and which goes off with it
at death, and serves as a medium through which
it may hold a direct communication with the
visible universe. Even although its conscious-
ness of existence were to be suspended for
thousands of years, its Creator can afterward in-
vest it with a new organical frame, suited to the
expansive sphere of action to which it is destined;
and the intervening period of its repose may be
made to appear no longer than the lapse of a few
moments. In short, if God has sustained the
material universe hitherto, and will, in all proba-
bility, continue it forever in existence, so that not a
single atom now existing, shall at aaiy future
period be annihilated — the same Power and In-
telligence can, with equal ease, support the think-
ing principle in man, whatever may be its nature
or substance, and however variec the transforma-
tions through which it may pass. If the Creator
is both able and willing to perpetuate the exist-
ence of the rational spirit through an endless
duration, and if his wisdom, benevolence and rec-
titude require that this object should be accom-
plished, all difficulties arising from its nature or the
mode of its subsistence, must at once evanislt
The preceding arguments in support -f a future
state, are, therefore, equally conclusive, whether
we consider the sou! as a pure immaterial substance,
or as only a peculiar modification of matter; so
that the skeptic who adopts the absurd idea of the
materiality of mind, cannot, even on this ground
invalidate the truth of man's eternal destinatioiv

CHAPTER II.

PROOFS OF A FUTURE STATE FROM DIVINE REVELATION.

The evidences of a future state, which we have
endeavored, in the preceding pages, to investi-
gate on the principles of human reason, are am-
oly confirmed and illustrated in the Revelation
contained in the Sacred Scriptures. It is one of
the distinguishing characteristics of that revela-
tion, that, in every important point, it harmo-
nizes with the deductions of sound reason, and
*the principles of common sense. This was natu-
rally to be presumed ; since God is the author
both of the reasoning faculty, and of the declara-
tions contained in the volume of insj)iralion; and
tills consifleration forms a strong presumptive
argument in support of the divine authority of
the Scriptures, and should excite us to receive,
with cordial veneration and esteem, a revelation
which confirms the law of nature, and is conge-
nial to the sentiments of the wisest and the best
of mankind in all ages. If any serious inquirer,
who had entertained doubts on this subject, has
been led to a conviction of the reality of his im-
mortal destiny, by such arguments as the preced-
ing, he will naturally resort to the Sacred Records

for more full information on thjs important point;
and I should have no fear of any one remaining
long an enemy of Revelation, when once a pow-
erful conviction of a future state has beei^ deeply
impressed on his mind. If a man is fully con-
vinced that he is standing every moment on the
verge of an eternal state, he cannot but feel
anxious to acquire the most correct information
that can be obtained respecting that world which
is to constitute his everlasting abode; and if ho
is altogether careless and insensible in this respect
it is quite clear, that he has no thorough convie-
tion of the realities of a life to come.

The Christian Revelation has "brought life
and immortality to light," not so much on ac-
count of the express assurance it gives of the
reality of a future world, but chiefly, as it clearly
exhibits the nature and the employments of that
state, its endless duration, the ground on which
we can expect happiness in it, and the dispositions
and virtues which qualify us for relishing its ex-
ercises and enjoying its felicities; and particu.arly,
as it opens to our view the glorious scene of a

PROOFS FROM DIVINE REVELATION.

41

" resurrection from tht dfad,^' and the re-union of
soul and body in the mansions of bliss.

In illustrating this topic, it would be quite un-
necessary to enter into any jengthenetl details.
When the divine auliiority of the Scriptures is
recognized, a single proposition or assertion, when
it is clear and express, is sutficient to determine
the reality of any fact, or the truth of any doc-
trine; and therefore, I shall do little more than
bring forward a few passages bearing on the
point under consideration, and intersperse some
occasional remarks. As .some have called in
question the position, " that the doctrine of a
future state was known to the Jews," I shall, in
the first place, bring forward a few passages and
considerations to show that tiie doctrine of iin-
mortality was recognized under the Jewish as
well as under the Christian dispensations.

As the belief of a future state lies at the very
foundation of religion, it is impossible to suppose,
that a people whom the Almighty had chosen to be
his worshipers, and the depositories of his revealed
will, should have remained ignorant of this inter-
esting and fundamental truth, and have had their
views ccfnfined solely to the fleeting scenes of tlie
present world. " Faith," says Paul, in his Epistle
to the Hebrews, " is the confident expectation of
things hoped for, and the conviction of things
not seen."* It includes a belief in the existence
of God, and of the rewards of a life to coriie; for,
says th^ same apostle, " He that cometh to God
must believe that he is, and tliat he is the re-
warder of them that diligently seek him." Hav-
ing stated these principles, he proceeds to show,
that the ancient patriarchs were animated in all
their services by their conviction of the realities
of a future and invisible world. With respect to
Abraham he informs us, that " he expected a city
which had foundations, whose builder and maker
b God." He obtained no such city in the earthly
Canaan; and therefore we must necessarily sup-
pose, that his views were directed to mansions of
perpetuity beyond the confines of the present
world. With respect to Moses, he says, that un-
der all his persecutions and afflictions, "he en-
dured as seeing Him who is invisible; for he had
a respect to the recompense of reward." That
reward did not consist in temporal grandeur,
otherwise, he might have enjoyed it in much more
splendor and security in Egypt, as the son of
Pharaoh's daughter; nor did it consist in the pos-
session of Canaan, for he was not permitted to
enter into that goodly Itaid. It must, therefore,
have been the celestial iidieritance to which the
eye of his faith looked forward, as the object of
his joyful anticipation. With regard to all the other
patriarchs whose names stand high on the records
of the Old-Testament Church, he declares, that
" they confessed that they were strangers and
pilgrims on earth," that '-they declared plainly
that they sought a better country, that is, an
heavenly;" and that those who " were tortured"
to induce them to renounce their religion, en-
dured their sufferings with invincible fortitude,
"not accepting deliverance" when it was ofiered
them, "that tfiey might obtain a belter resurrec-
tion."

In accordance with these declarations, the pro-
phe'A, in many par's of their writings, speak
decl^jirely of their expectations of a future life,
and of the consolation the prospect of it afl'orded
them, under their sufTerings. "As for me," says
the Psalmist, " I shall behold thy face in right-
eousness; I shall be satisfied when I awake with

Doddridge'8 Translation of Heb. z' ■ I.

thy likeness." " My flesh shall rest in hope ; for
thou wilt not leave my soul in the grave. Thou
wilt show me the path of life: ia thy presence is
fullness of joy; at thy right hand are pleasures
for evermore." " Yea, though I walk through the
valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil;
for thou art with me. Surely goodness and
mercy will follow me all the days of my life,
and i shall dwell in tlie house of t'le Lord forever."
"God will redeem my soul irorn the grave; for
he will receive me." "Whom have I in heaven
but thee? and there is none upon earth that I de-
sire beside thee. Thou wilt guide me with tliy
counsel, and aftenvard receive me to glory. My
flesh and n;y heart shall fail ; but God is tha
strength of my heart and viy portion forever."
Nothing can be no more clear and express than
such declarations. If the psalmist had no belief
in a future state, and no hopes of enjoying its
felicities, after the termination of his earthly
pilgrimage, his language is absolutely without
meaning. What rational interpretation can be
given to the expressions of " dwelling in the
house of God forever," after his days on earth
are numbered — of "Jehovah being his everlast-
ing portion," after his heart had ceased to beat —
and of his being "redeemed from the grave,"
and put in possession of "fullness of joy," and
" everlasting pleasure," — if his views were con-
fined to the narrow limits of time, and the bounda-
ries of the earthly Canaan? Such expressions would
be a species of bombast and hyperbole altogether
inconsistent with the dignity and veracity of an
inspired writer.

Job, that illustrious example of patience under
afHiction, consoled his spirit in the midst of ad-
versity by the hopes he entertained of a blessed
immortality. " I know," says he, " that my
Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the
latter day upon tiie earth: and, after I awake,
though this body shall be destro3'ed, j^et out of
my flesh shall I see God." In various other pas-
sages of the prophets, not only a future state, but
a resurrection from the grave and the solemni-
ties of the day of judgment are plainly intimated.
" The dead men shall live, together with my dead
body shall they rise. Awake and sing, ye that
dwell in dust; for thy dew is as the dew of herbs,
and the earth shall cast out the dead." " Rejoice,
0 young ma% in thy youth, and walk in the
ways of thy heart, and in the sight of thine eyes:
but know thou, that for all these things God will
bring thee into judgment." " For God shall
bring every work into judgment, with every
secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it.be
evil." " -Alany of them that sleep in the dust of
the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and
some to shame and everlasting contempt. And
they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of
the firmament ; and they that turn many to
righteousness as the stars forever and ever."

One reason, among others, why the doctrine
of a future state is not freque.itly adverted to,
and treated in detail, in the writings of the Old
Testament, undoubtedly is, that it was a truth so
well understood, so generally recognized, and so
essential to the very idea of religion, that it
would have been superfluous to have dwelt upon
it in detail, or to have brought it forward as a new
discovery. This doctrine is implied in the phra-
seology of the Old Testament, in many cases
where there is no direct reference to a future
world, as in such passages as the following: "I
am the God of thy father, the God of Abraham,
the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob:" Exod.
iii. 6. Our Saviour has taught us to consider

42

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE

tliis and similar passages as embodying' llie doc-
trine of a future life. "For (lod is not tlie God
of tlie dead, but of the livinir." If the lioly pa-
triarchs vviiose names are liere coninuMnorated
witli so nuich honor, were reduced to tlie condi-
tion of the clods of the valley, and if their intel-
lectual part were not in existence, Jehovaii would
never own the hiiih relation of a God to those
whom he, has finally abandoned, and su tiered to
sink into non-existence. Consequently, Abraham,
Isaac and Jacob were living and intelligent beings,
in another state, when this declaration was made
to Moses at the burning bush. The i)hrase, "llf
was gathered to his people," implies a similar
sentiment. In Gen. xxv, it is said, " Abrahnni
gave up the ghost, and was pafhered to his pcojile."
This expression is not to be viewed as im]!0rliiig
that he was buried with his fathers; for the fathers
of Abraham were buried several hundreds of miles
from the cave of Machpelah, in which Abraham's
mortal remains were deposited, — some of tiiein in
the land of Chaldea, and some of them in the
country of Mesopotamia, which lay at a consid-
erable distance from the land of Canaan. The
true meaning must therefore be, that he was
"gathered" to the assembly of the righteous, to
the blessed society of those congenial spirits, emi-
nent for their piety, who had passed before him
into the invisible world. Hence says the Psalmist,
"Gather not my soul with sinners." — Hence, says
Job, when describing the miseries of the wicked,
"The rich man shall lie down" in the grave,
"but he shall not be gathered;'''' and the prophet,when
personating the Messiah, declares, "Though Is-
rael be not gathered, yet shall I be glorious in the
eyes of Jehovah."

These remarks may suffice to show, that the
doctrine of a future state was known, and
generally recognized, by the venerable patriarchs
and other illustrious characters that flourished
iiader the Jewish dispensation.

That this doctrine is exhibited in the clearest
light in the Christian Revelation, has never been
disputed, by any class of religionists, nor even by
infidels themselves. In this revelation, however,
the doctrine of immortality is not attempted to
be proved by any labored arguments or super-
natural evidences, nor is it brought forward as a
new discovery. It is evidently taken for granted, and
incidentally interwoven through all the discourses
of our Saviour and his apostles, as a truth which
lies at the foundation of religion, and which
never ought for a moment to be called in ques-
tion. In elucidating this topic, it will be quite
sufficient simply to quote a few passages from the
New-Testament writers.

Paul, when looking forward to the dissolution
of his mortal frame, declares, in his own name,
and in the name of all Christians — " Our light
affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh
out for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight
of glory; while we aim not at things which are
visible, but at those which are invisible ; for the
things which are visible are temporary, but those
which are invisible are eternal. For we know,
that, if this earthly house of our tabernacle were
dissolved, we have a building of God, an house
not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."
When the time of his departure from the body
was at hand, he declared, "I have fought the
gooa fight, I have finished my course, 1 have
kept the faith: henceforth there is laid up for me a
crown of righteousness, which the righteous Judge
shall give me at that day; and not to me only, but to
all them that love his appearing." The apostle
Peter declares, tliat believers " are regenerated to

the lively hope of an inheritance incorruptible,
undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in
heaven for them." "When the chief Shepherd
rjiall appear, we shall receive a crown of glory,
which fadeth not away." Our Saviour de-
clares, in reference to his servants, "I give unto
them eternal life, and they snail never perish."
" In my Father's house are many mansions: if it
were not so I would luive told you. I go to i)re-
pare a place for you. And 1 will come again,
and receive you to myself, that where I am liiere
you may be also." And again, " Many shall
come from the east and the west, and sIkiII sit
down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in
the kingdom of heaven." "Then shall the right-
eous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of
their Father."

While these and similar passages clearly de-
monstrate the certainty of an eternal world, and
the future happiness of the righteous — the apos-
tles and evangelists are equally explicit in assert-
ing the future misery of the wicked. "The un-
righteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God,"
but "shall go away into everlasting punishment."
" The Lord Jesus shall be revealed front heaven,
with his mighty angels, in flaming fire, taking
vengeance on them that know not God, and who
obey not the Gospel: who shall be punished with
everlasting destruction from the presence of the
Lord, and from the glory of his power." " At
the end of the world, the angels shall come forth
and sever the wicked from among the just, and
shall cast them into a furnace of fire, where shall
be weeping and gnashing of teeth." "The fear-
ful and unbelieving, and murderers, and whore-
mongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars,
shall have their part in the lake which burneth
with fire and brimstone. There shall in nowise
enter into the heavenly Jerusalem anything that
defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination,
or maketh a lie."

The way by which happiness in the future
world may be obtained is also clearly exhibited.
"' Eternal life is the gift of God, through Jesus
Christ our Lord." " For God so loved the world,
that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoso-
ever bclicveth in him should not perish, but have
everlasting life." "This is the record, that God
hath given to us eternal life, and this life is
in his Son." "The God of all grace hath called
us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus." — The
dispositions of those on whom tliis happiness will
be conferred, and the train of action which pre-
pares us for the enjoyment of eternal bliss, are
likewise distinctly described. "Whatsoever a
man soweth, that shall he also reap. He that
soweth to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption,
but he that soweth to the spirit, shall of the
spirit reap life everlasting." " To them who, by
patient continuance in well-doing, seek for glory,
honor, and immortality, God will recompense
eternal life." " The pure in heart shall see God "
" He that doetk the u'ill of God abideth forever."
"Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the
temple of my God, and he shall go no more out."
"Blessed are they that do his commandmtnts,
that they may have a right to the tree of life, and
may enter through the gates into the city."

The nature of the heavenly felicity, and tha
employments of the future world, are likewise in
cidentally stated and illustrated. The foundation
of happiness in that state is declared to consist in
perfect freedom from moral impurity, and in the
attainment of moral perfection. "No one wh«
worketh abomination can enter the gates of the
New Jerusalem." "Christ Jesus gave himself

PROOFS FROM DIVINE REVELATION.

48

for the cliurcb, that he might sanctify and cleanse
it, and that ho niig^ht present it to himself a glori-
ous chiircli, holy, and without blemish." The
honor which awaits the faitiiful, in the heavenly
world, is designated "a crown of riyldeoiisness.'"
The inheritance to which they arc destined is
declared lobe " undetiled" witli moral pollution;
and it is "an inheritance among thejn that are
tanctijied." "Wlien Christ, who is our life,
shall ap[)ear," says tlie Apostle John, " ice shall be
like him," adorned with all the beauties of holi-
ness which he displayed on earth as our pattern
and exemplar. The einployincnts of that world
are represented as consisting in adoration of the
Creator of the universe, in the celebration of his
praises, in the contemplation of his works, and
in tliose active services, flowing from the purest
Jove, which have a tendency to promote the har-
mony and felicity of the intelligent creation. "I
beheld," said John, when a vision of the future
world was presented, to his view, "and, lo, a
great multitude, which no man could number,
of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and
tongues, stood before the throne, clothed in white
robes, crying with a loud voice, Salvation to our
God that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the
Lamb. Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and
thanksgiving, and honor, and pow'er, be ascribed
to our God forever and ever." That the contem-
plation of the works of God is one leading part
of the exercises of the heavenly inhabitants, ap-
pears, from the scene presented to the same apos-
tle, in another vision, where the same celestial
ehoir are represented as falling down before Him
tliat sat on the throne, and saying, "Thou art
worthy, O Lord, to receive glory, and honor, and
power; for thou hast created all things, and for
thy pleasure they are, and were created." Such
Bublime adorations and ascriptions of praise, are
the natural results of their profound investiga-
tions of the wonderful works of God. In ac-
cordance with the exercises of these holy ititelli-
gences, another chorus of the celestial inhabitants
is exhibited as singing the song of Moses, the
servant of God, and the song of the Lamb, saying,
"Great and marvelous are thy works, Lord God
Almighty, just and true are thy ways, thou King
of saints."

The resurrection of the body to an immortal
life, is also declared, in the plainest and most de-
cisive language. This is one of the peculiar dis-
coveries of Revelation; for, although the ancient
Bages of the heathen world generally admitted the
immortality of the sonl, they seem never to have
formed the most distant conception, that the
bodies of men, after putrefying in the grave,
would ever be reanimated; and hence, when Paul
declared this doctrine to the Athenian philoso-
phers, he was pronounced to be a babbler. This
sublime and consoling truth, however, is put
beyond all doubt by our Saviour and his apostles.
•^" The hour is coming," says Jesus, "when all
that are in the graves shall hear the voice of the
Son of God, and shall come forth: they that have
done good, to the resurrection of life; and they that
have done evil, to the resurrection of condemna-
tion." " I am the resurrection and the life: he
that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet
shall he live." "Why should it be thought a
thing inr;redible that God should raise the dead?"
"We look for the Saviour, who shall change our
vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his
glorious body, ac%ordlng to the energy by which
lie is able even to subdue all things to himself."
"We shall all be changed, in a moment, in the
twiukliug of an eye, at the last trump; for the

trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised
incorruplible, and we shall be changed." — The
nature of this change, and the qualities of the
rosnrreclion-body, are likewise particularly de-
scribed by Paul in the fifteenth chapter of thfl
first epistle to the Corinthians. " It is sown," or
committed to the grave " in corruption; it is raised
in incorruption,^' — liable no more to decay, dis-
ease and death, but immortal as its Creator. "It
is raised in Power," — indo'^d with strength and
vigor incapable of being weakened or exhausted,
and fitted to accompany the mind in its most
vigorous activities — " It is raised in glory" — des-
tined to flourish in immortal youth and beauty,
and arrayed in a splendor similar to that wbich
appeafed on the body of Christ when " his face
liid shine as the sun, and his raiment became
white and glittering." — " It is raised a spiritual
body" — refined to the highest pitch of w'hich
matter is susceptible, capable of the most vigorous
exertions and of the swiftest movements, indued
with organs of perception of a more exquisite
and sublime nature than those with which it is
now furnished, and fitted to act as a suitable ve-
hicle for the soul in all its celestial services and
sublime investigations.

Such is a brief summary of the disclosures which
the Christian Revelation has made respecting
the eternal destiny of mankind — a subject of in-
finite importance to every rational being — a sub-
ject of ineffable sublimity and grandeur, which
throws info the shade the most important trans-
actions, and the most splendid pageantry of this
sublunary scene — a subject which should be in-
terwoven with all our plans, pursuits and social
intercourses, and which ought never for a mo-
ment to be banished from our thoughts. — I shall,
therefore, conclude this department of my subject
with a remark or two

On the rRACTICAL INFLUENCE WHICH THE DOCFRUfK
OF A FUTURE STATE OUGHT TO HAVE UPON OUR
AFFECTIONS AND CONDUCT.

When we look around us on the busy scene of
human life, and especially when we contemplate
the bustle and pageantry which appear in a popu-
lous city, we can scarcely help concluding, that
the great majority of hhnian beings that pass in
review before us, are acting as if the present
world were their everlasting abode, and as if they
had no relation to an invisible state of existence
To indulge in sensual gratifications, to acquire
power, wealth and fanie, to gratify vanity, ambi-
tion and pride, to amuse themselves with pictures
of fancy, with fantastic exhibitions, theatrical
scenes and vain shows, and to endeavor to banish
every thought of death and eternity from the
mind, appear to be in their view the great and
ultimate ends of existence. This is the case, not
merelj'^ of those who openly avow themselves
"men of the world," and call in question the
realit\' of a future existence ; but also of thou-
sands who regularly frequent our worshiping as-
semblies, and profess their belief in the realities
of an eternal state. They listen to the doctrines
of eternal life, and of future punishment, with-
out attempting to question either their reality op
their importance, but as soon as they retire fiom
" the place of the holy," and mingle in the social
circle, and the bustle of business, every impression
of invisible realities evanishes from their minds,
as if it had been merely a dream or a vision
of the night. To cultivate the intellectual fac-
lUties, to aspire after moral excellence, to de-
vote the active powers to the glory of the

44

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

Creator, and the benefit of mankind; to live as
strangers and pilgrims npon eartli, to consider
the glories of this world as a transient scene that
will ?ooii [KISS away, and to keep the eye con-
stantly fixed on the realities of an immortal life
— are characteristics of only a comparatively
small nnmber of individuals scattered amidst the
swarming popnlation around us, who are fre-
quently regarded by their fellows as a niean
spirited and ignoble race of beings. Though
death is making daily havoc around them, though
their friends and relatives are, year after year,
dropping into the grave, though poets and orators,
princes and philosophers, statesmen and stage-
players, are continuiiUy disappearing from the
living world; though sickness and diseafb are
raging around and laying their victims of every
age prostrate in the dust, and though they fre-
quently walk over the solemn recesses of the
burying ground, and tread upon the aslies of "the
mighty man, and the man of war, the judge and
the ancient, the cunning artificer, and the elo-
quent orator," — yet thej' prosecute tlie path of
dissipation and vanity with as much keenness
and resolution, as if everything around them
were unchangeable, and as if their present en-
jojments were to last forever.

If this representation be founded on fact, we
may assuredly conclude, that the great bulk of
mankind have no fixed belief of tiie reality of a
future world, and that more than the one lialf of
those who profess an attachment to religion, are
as little influenced in their general conduct by
this solemn consideration, as if it were a matter
of mere fancy, or of "doubtful disputation." It
is somewhat strange, and even paradoxical, that,
amidst the never-ceasing changes which are tak-
ing place among the living beings around us, men
should so seldom look beyond the grave to which
they are all advancing, and so seldom make in-
quiries into the certainty and tiie nature of that
state into which the tide of time has carried all
the former generations of mankind. If a young
man were made fully assured that at the end of
two years, he should obtain the sovereignty of a
fertile island in the Indian ocean, where he should
enjoy every earthly pleasure his heart could de-
sire,— his soul would naturally bound at the pros-
pect, he would search his maps to ascertain
the precise position of his future residence, he
would make inquiries respecting it of those
travelers who had either visited the spot or passed
near its confines ; he would r ruse with avidity
the descriptions which geogrp ners have given of
its natural scenery, its soil and climate, its pro-
ductions and inhabitants ; and, before his depar-
ture, he would be careful to provide everything
that might be requisite for his future enjoyment.
If a person, when setting out on a journey which
he was obliged to undertake, were informed that
his road lay through a dangerous territory, wliere
he should be exposed, on the one hand, to the
risk of falling headlong into unfathovnable gulfs,
and, on the other, to the attacks of merciless
savages, — he would walk with caution, he would
look around him at every step, and he would wel-
come with gratitude any friendly guide that
would direct his steps to the place of his destina-
tion. But, in relation to a future and invisible
world, there exist, in the minds of the bulk of
mankind, a most unaccountable apathy and in-
diflTerence; and not only an indifference, but, in
many instances, a determined resolution not to
listen to anything that may be said respecting it.
To broach the subject of immortality, in certain
convivial circles, would be considered as approach-

ing to an insult; and the person who had the
hardihood to do so, would be regarded as a rude,
sanctimonious intruder How unaccountably
foolish and pieposterous is such a conduct! es-
pecially when we consider that those very persons
who seem to he entirely regardless whether they
shall sink into the gulf of annihilation, or into
the regions of endless perdition, will pass whole
days and nights in chagrin and despair for the loss
of some employment, for a slight affront, or for
some imaginary reflection on their reputation
and honor!

Were it necessary to bring forward additional
proofs that the greater part of mankind have no
belief in a future state, or, which amounts nearly
to the same thing, that it has no influence what-
ever on the general tenor of their thoughts and
actions — the prominent features of their conduct
alFord abundant evidence of this melancholy truth.
Would a man, who firndy believes that he is des-
tined to an everlasting state, pass fifty or sixty
years of his life without spending one serious
thought about that unknown futurity into which
he is soon to enter, or making the least inquiry
res2)ectii!g its nature and employments? Would
he toil from morning to night, with incessant
care, to laj' Uj) a few fleeting treasures, and never
spend a single hour in considering what prepa-
rations are requisite, for an endless existence?
Woul.l he spurn at that book which has unvailed
the glories and the terrors of eternity, and
"brought life and immortality to light?" Would
he sneer at the person who is inquiring the way
to a blessed immortality, and count him as an ene-
my Wiien he wished to direct his attention to the
concerns of an unseen world? Can that man be
supposed to believe that a crown of glory awaits
him in the heavens, whose whole soul i? absorbed
in the pursuits of ambition, and who tra'np'-'s tn
every priiiciple of truth and justice, in order to
gain possession of a post of opulence and honor?
Can those parents believe that in heaven there is
"a treasure tliat fadetli not," while they teach
their children to conclude, that the acquisition of
a fortune, and the favor of the great, are the
grand objects to which they should aspire? Can
that old hoary-headed votary of pleasure consider
himself as standing on the verge of an eternal
world, who still indulges himself in all the fash-
ionable follies and frivolities of the age, and never
casts an eye beyond tlie precincts of the grave?
Can that hard-hearted worldling, "who shuts his ears
at tiie cry of the poor and needy and who grasps his
treasures with eagerness even amidst the agonies
of dissolution — believe that "a recompense of re-
ward" awaits the benevolent "at the resurrection
of the just?" Can that man be impressed with
the solemnities of the eternal world, who, the mo-
ment after he has committed the remains of a rela-
tive to the grave, violates every humane and
friendly feeling, and for the sake of a few paltry
pounds or shillings, deprives the widow and the
or])han of every earthly enjoyment? Can that
courtly .sycophant, who is continually hunting
after places and pensions, fawning upon his supe-
riors, and whose whole life is a continued course
of treachery, adulation and falsehood — believe that
"all liars shall have their portion in the lake that
burnetii with fire and brimstone?" Can that
thoughtlesi debauchee believe that future punish-
ment awaits the workers of iniquity, who runs
from one scene of dissipation, to anotluir, who
wastes his time in folly and •xtravagance, and
whose life is but one continued crime? Or can
we even suppose that that clergyman, who is un-
remittingly aspiring after preferment, who ia

PROOFS FROM DIVINE REVELATION

45

mercilessly fleecing his flock, yet neglecting their
instruction, and engaged in incessant litigations
about some paltry tyllies, seriously believes, that
the treasures of this world are unworthy to be
compared with that " exceeding great and eternal
weight of glory which is about to be revealed in the
life to come?" Such conduct plaiidy indicates,
whatever professions certain descriptions of tliese
characters may make, that the solemn realities of
the eternal world have no more pnicticul influence
on their minds than if they regarded them as un-
substantial phantoms, or as idle dreams.

Tlie doctrine of a future slate is not a mere spec-
nlative proposition, to serve as a subject of meta-
physrcal investigation, or to be admitted merely
to complete a system of philosophical or theologi-
cal belief. It is a truth of the highest practical
importance, which ought to be interwoven with
the whole train of our thoughts and actions. Yet
how many are there, even of those who bear the
Christian name, who are incessantly engaged in
boisterous disputes respecting the nature of faith,
who have never felt the influence of that faith
which is " the confident expectation of things
hoped for, and the conviction of things which are
not seen," and which realizes to the mind, as if
actually present, the glories of the invisible world!
If we really believe the doctrine of immortality,
it will manifest itself in our thoughts, affections
and pursuits. It will lead us to form a just esti-
mate of the value of all earthly enjoyments. For, in the
light of eternity, all the secular pursuits in which
men now engage, appear but as vanity, and all
the dazzling objects which fascinate their eyes, as
fleeting shadows. A realizing view of an eternal
state dissipates the illusion which the eye of sense
throws over the pageantry and the splendors of
this world, and teaches us that all is transitory
and fading, and that our most exquisite earthly
enjoyments will ere long be snatched from our
embrace. For, not a single mark of our sublun-
ary honors, not a single farthing of our boasted
treasures, not a single trace of our splendid pos-
sessions, nor a single line of the beauty of our
persons, can be carried along with us to the re-
gions beyond the grave. It will stimulate us to set
our affections on things above, and to indulge i7i
heavenly contemplations. " Where our treasure is, j
there will our hearts be also." Rising superior to !
the delights of sense, and to the narrow boundaries '
of time, we will expatiate 'at large in those bound-
less regions which eye hath not seen, and contem- '
plate, in the light of reason and of revelation those
scenes of felicity and grandeur, which will burst |
upon the disembodied spirit, when it has dropped
its earthly tabernacle in the dust. Like Seneca, i
when he contemplated, in imagination, the magni-
tude and beauty of the orbs of heaven, we will look I
down, with a noble indifference, on tlie earth as a
scarcely distinguishable atom, and say, " Is it to
this little spot that the great designs and vast de- I
sires of men are confined ? Is it for this there is j
such disturbance of nations, so much carnage, and !
so many ruinous wars ? O folly of deceived men ! j
to Imagine great kingdoms in the compass of an 1
atom, to raise armies to divide a point of earth '
with their swords I It is just as if the ants should |
divide their molehills into provinces, and conceive 1
a lield to be several kingdoms, and fiercely contend j
to enlarge their borders, and celebrate a triumph
in gaining a foot of earth, as a new province to .
tlieir empire " In the light of heaven all sublu- j
nary glories fade away, and the mind is refined
ana ennobled, when, with the eye of faith, itpene- |

trates within the vail, and describes the splenaors
of the heaven of heavens.
I Again, if we believe the doctrine of immortality,
wo will be careful to avoid those sins which
would expose us to misery in the future world,
and to cultivate those dispositions; and virtues
' wliich will prepare us for the enjoymtait of eternal
felicity. I'otween virtue and vice, sin and holiness,
there is an essential and eternal distinction; and
this distinction will be fully and visibly aispla)'ed
in the eternal world. He whose life is a contin-
! ued scene of vicious indulgence, and who has de-
voted himself to "work all manner of uncloauness
with greediness," becomes, by such habiti, "a
vessel of wralh fitted for destruction;" and, from
the very constitution of things, there is no possi-
bility of escaping misery in the future state, if his
existence be prolonged. Whereas, he who is
devoted to the practice of holiness, who loves his
Creator with supreme affection, and his neighbor
as himself, who adds to his faith "virtue, know-
ledge, temperance, patience, brotherly-kindness,
and charity," is, by such graces, rendered fit for
everlasting communion with the Father of spirits,
and for delightful association with all the holy
intelligences that people his immense empire.
Again, the beficf of a future world should excite
us to the exercise of contentment, and reconcile
our minds to whatever privations or afflictions
Providence may allot to us in the present world.
'•' For the sufferings of the present time are not
worthy to be compared with the glory which is
to be revealed." If we believe that the whole train
of circumstances connected with our present lot,
is arranged by Infinite Wisdom and benevolence,
everything that befalls us here must have a
certain bearing on the future world, and have a
tendency to prepare us for engaging in its exer-
cises and for relishing its enjoyments. In short,
if we recognize the idea of an immortal life, we
will endeavor to acquire clear and comprehen-
sive views of its nature, its pleasures, and its em-
ployments. We will not rest satisfied with vague
and confused conceptions of celestial bliss; but
will endeavor to form as precise and definite
ideas on this subject as the circumstances of our
sublunary station will permit. We will search the
Oracles of Divine Revelation, and the discoveries
of science, and endeavor to deduce from both the
sublimest conceptions we can form of the glories
of that "inheritance which is incorruptible, unde-
filed, and that fadeth not away, which is reserved
in heaven for thj faithful."

In a word, if our minds are as deeply impressed
with this subject as its importance demands, we
shall experience feelings similar to those which
affected the mind of Hyeronymus when he con-
templated the dissolution of the world, and the
solenmiiies of the last judgment. — " Whether I
eat or drink, or in whatever other action or em-
ployment I am engaged, that solemn voice always
seems to sound in my ears, 'Arise ye dead and
come to judgment!' — As often as I think of the
day of judgment, my heart quakes, and my whole
frame trembles. If I arn to indulge in any of the
pleasures of the present life, I am resolvedfo c»it
in such a way, that the solemn realities of the fu-
ture judgment may never be baniehed fro)n my
recollection."*

* Sive comednm, sive bibam, sive aliquid aliud fariam,
semper vox ilia in auribns mens sonare videtiir : Purgite
Mortui, et venite ad judicium. Cinotiiis diem jndicii cogito,
tolns corde et corpore contremisco. Si qua enim prjesentii
vita- est la;tili«, ita agenda est, ut nunqiiara amaritudo futuh
iudicii recedat a memoria.

PART II,

ON THE CONNECTION OF SCIENCE WITH A FUTURE STATE.

A GREAT ov.tcry has frequently been made, by
many of those who wish to l>e considered as pious
persons, about the vanity of human science. Cer-
tain divines in their writings, and various descrip-
tions of preachers in their pulpit declamations,
not unfrequeiitly attempt to embellish their dis-
courses, and to magnify the truths of scripture, by
contrasting them witla what they are pleased to
call "the perishing treasures of scientific know-
ledge." "The knowledge we derive from the
Scriptures," say they, '• is able to make us wise
unto salvation ; all other knowledge is but com-
parative folly. The knowledge of Christ and him
crucified will endure forever; but all human
knowledge is transitory, and will perish forever
when this world comes to an end. Men weary
themselves with diving into human science, while
all that results to them is vanity and vexation of
spirit. Men may become the greatest philosophers,
and have their understandings replenished with
every kind of human knowledge, and yet perish
forever. What have we to do with the planets
and the stars, and whether they be peopled v/ith
inhabitants 1 Our business is to attend to the sal-
vation of our souls."

Now, although some of the above, and similar
assertions, when properly modified and explained,
may be admitted as true, the greater part of them,
along with hundreds of similar expressions, are
either ambiguous or false. But, although they
were all admitted as strictly true, what effect can
the frequent reiteration of such comparisons and
contrasts have on the mass of the people to whom
they are addressed, who are already too much dis-
inclined to the pursuit of general knowledge — but
to make them imagine, that it is useless, and in
Bome cases dangerous, to prosecute any other
kind of knowledge than what is derived directly
from the Scriptures ? And what is the know-
ledge which the great majority of those who at-
tend the public senices of religion have acquired
of the contents of the sacred oracles ? It is too
often, I fear, exceedingly vague, confused and
superficial; owing, in a great measure, to the
want of those habits of mental exertion, which a
moderate prosecution of useful science would have
induced.

Such declamations as those to which I have
now adverted, obviously proceed from a very lim-
ited sphere of information and a contracted range
of thought. It is rather a melancholy reflection,
that any persons, porticularly preachers of the
gospel, should endeavor to apologize for their
own ignorance by endeavoring to unden'alue
what they acknowledge they never have acquired,
and therefore, cannot be supposed to understand
and appreciate. For, although several well-in-
formed and judicious ministers of religion, have
been led, from the influence of custom, and from
copying the expressions of others, to use a phrase-
ology which has a tendency to detract from the
Utility of 'scientific knowledge, yet it is generally

tlie most ignorant, those whose reading and obser-
vation have been confined within the narrowest
range, who are most forward in their bold and vague
declamations on this topic. We never find, in
any part of the Sacred Records, such comparisons
and contrasts as those to which I allude. The •
inspired writers never attempt to set the icord of
God in opposition to his works, nor attempt to
deter men from the study of the wonders of his
creation, on the ground that it is of less impor-
tance than the study of his word. On the con-
trary, they take every proper opportunity of di-
recting the attention to the mechanism and order,
the magnificence and grandeur of the visible
world ; and their devotional feelings are kindled
into rapture by such contemplations. When the
Psalmist had finished his survey of the different
departments of nature, as described in the civ.
Psalm, he broke out into the following devotional
strains: "Plow manifold are thy works, 0 Lord!
in wisdom hast thou made them all : the earth is
full of thy riches, so is the great and wide sea.
The glory* of the Lord shall endure forevei , the
Lord shall rejoice in all his works. I will sing
unto the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praises
to my God while I have my being " For the
visible works of God display the same essential
attributes of Deity, and of his superintending
providence, as the revelations of his word ; and it
is one great design of that word to direct men to
a rational and devout contemplation of these
works in which his glory is so magnificently dis-
played. And, therefore, to attempt to magnify
the word of God by degrading his works, or to set
the one in opposition to the other, is to attempt
to set the Deity in opposition to himself, and to
prevent mankind from offering a certain portion
of that tribute of adoration and thanksgiving
which is due to his name.

It is true, indeed, that the mere philosopher has
frequently been disposed to contemplate the uni-
verse as if it were a self-acting and independent
machine. He has sometimes walked through the
magnificent scenes of creation, and investigated
the laws which govern the motions of the celes-
tial orbs, and the agencies which produce the vari-
ous phenomena of our sublunary system, without
offering up that tribute of thanksgiving and praise
which is due to the great First Cause, or feeling
those emotions of adoration and reverence which
such studies have a tendency to inspire. But it is
no less true, that the mere theologian has, like-
wise, not unfrequently, walked through the field
of revelation, studied its doctrines and facts, and
moral requisitions, written volumes in support of
its heavenly origin, and defended its truths against
the cavils of adversaries, without feeling that
supreme love to God and affection toward his

• That is, the display of the Divine perfections in the ma^
terial world, as the connection of the passage plainly inti
mates.

(46 ->

OBJECT OF SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATION.

47

neighbor which it is the great object of tlie Scrij)-
tures to proJiice, and disi)laying a disposition and
conduct directly repugnant to its holy jjrccepts.
An argument founded on tlie impiety of certain
pretended pliilosophers, to dissuade us from the
study of the inati-rial world, would, therefore, bo
equally powerful to deter us from the study of
divine revelation, when we consider that many
who iirofess to receive its doctrines live in open
defiance of its most sacred requisitions. In both
cases, swAi examples merely show, that man is a
frail iiiconsisttuit being, and too frequently dispos-
ed to overlook his Creator, and to wander from
the source of happiness.

In a work entitled, " The Christian Philoso-
pher,'" i have endeavored to illustrate this subject
at consideraltle length, and to show, that the in-
vestigation of the works of creation, under the
guidance of true science, has a tendency to- ex-
pand our conceptions of the power, wisdom, be-
nevol'Mice, and superintending providence of God,
— and that the various sciences and the inventions
of art may be rendered subservient in promoting
the objects of true religion, and diffusing its in-
fluence among the nations. — At present, I shall
confine m_v views, in the few following remarks,
to the illustration of the following position —
" That science has a relation to a future state."

It is a very vague, and, in nwny points of view,
TifaUe assertion, which has so frequently b:>en re-
iterated— that, what is generally termed human
knowledge, or the sciences, have no connection
with an immortal existence, and that they Vvill h^
of no utility whatever when this world comes to
an end. — Truth, of every description, is, from its
verj' nature, eternal and unchangeable ; and, con-
sequently, it cannot be supposed a preposterous
opinion, that the established principles of several
of our sciences will be the basis of reasoning and
of action in a future state as well as in the pres-
ent'. That a whole is greater than any of its
parts; that the three angles of a triangle are equal
to two right angles; that the sides of a plane tri-
angle are to one anotiier, as the sides of the angles
opposite to them; these and many similar proposi-
tions are eciually true in heaven as on earth, and
may probai)ly be as useful truths there as in our
present abode.

OBJECT OF saENTIt'IC INVESTIGATION'-.

In order to avoid misconception, and a confu-
sion of thought on this subject, it may not be im-
propei, in the first place, to define and illustrate
what is meant by the term Science.

Sciv^nce, in its most g'Mieral acceptation, denotes
Itnowledge of every description; in a more restrict-
ed Si^nsi', it denotes that species of knowlowge
which is acquired chiefly by the exercise of tin-
human faculties; and in "a still more resirictcii
sense, it denotes that systematic species of know-
edge which consists of rule and order, — sucli as
geometry, arithmetic, algebra, natural philosophy,
geography, astronomy, chemistry, mineralogy
and botany- — Fn the observations which follow,
the term m;iy be taken in any one of these senses;
but [)articnlarly in tlie last, which is the most
common and appropriate meaning. By means of
Bcieniific iiivesligition, the powers of the human
mind have been wonderfully strengthened and ex-
panded, anil our knowledge of the operations of
the Creator extensively enlarged. Science has en-
abled us to transport ourselves from one conti-
nent to another, to steer our course through the
pathless ocean, and to survey all the variety of
eceue . ,■> i the terraqueous globe displays; it

has taught us to mount upward to the region of
the clouds, and to penetrate into the bowels of the
earth, to explore the changes which the earth has
undergone since the period of its creation. It has
laid open to our view the nature and constitution
of the atmosphere, the principles of which it is
composed, and its agency in supporting fire ana
flame, and vegetable and animal lil'e. On the
principles which science has e.stablished, we have
been enabled to ascertain the distances of many
of the heavenly bodies, to compute their magni-
tudes, and to determine the periods of their revo-
lutions; and by means of the instruments it has
invented, we have been enabled to take a nearer
survey of distant worlds — to contemplate new
wonders of creating power in regions of the sky
which lie far beyond the utmost stretch of the un-
assisted eye, — and to explore those in\'isible re-
gions, where myriads of living beings are concen-
trated within the compass of a visible point. — In
consequence of such discoveries, we have been
enabled to acquire more clear and ample concep-
tions of the amazing energies of omnipotence, of
the inscrutable depths of infinite wisjom, of the
overruling i)roviJence of the Almighty, of the be-
nevolent care he exercises over all his creatures,
and of the unlimited extent of those dominions
over which he eternally presides.

T\\Q faculties by which man has been enabled to
make the discoveries to which I have alluded,
were implanted in his constitution by the hand of
his Creator; and the objects on which these facul-
ties are exercised, are the works of the Creator,
which, the more minutely they are investigated,
the more strikingly do they display the glory of
his character and perfections. Consequently, it
must have been the intention of the Creator that
man should employ the powers he has given him
in scientific researches; otherwise, he would nei-
ther have endowed him with such noble faculties,
nor have opened to his view so large a portion of
his eri'.pire. Scientific investigations, therefore,
are to be con.sidered as nothing less than inquiries
into the plans and operations of the Eternal, in
order to unfold the attributes of liis nature, his
providential procedure in the governmtut of his
creatures, and the laws by which he directs the
movements of universal nature. It is true, indeed,
(hat every one who -lalls himself a philosopher
may not keep this end in view in the prosecution
of scientific acquirements. He may perhaps be
actuated merely by a principle of curiosity, by a
love of worldly gain, or by a desire to acquire
reputation among the learned by the discoveries
he may bring to light, just in the same way as
some theologians are actuated in prosecuting the
study of the Christian system. But the discove-
ries which have been made by such persons, are,
notwithstanding, real developments of the plans
of the Deity, and open to a devout mini a more
expansive view of the power, wisdom, and benev-
oli'iice of Ilim who is "wonderful in council, and
excellent in working." It is our own fault if we
do not derive useful instruction from the investi-
gations and discoveries of philosophy; it is owing
to our want of intelligence to discrimiubte between
the experiments of men, and the operations of
God, and to the want of that reverence, humility,
and devotion, which ought to accompany us in
all our studies and cont<M7iplations of nature
Science, therefore, from whatever motives ii may
be prosecuted, is, in effect, and in reality, an »"»-
fjiiiry after God: it is the study of angels and ether
superior intelligences; and we cannot suppose
there is a holy being throughout the universe that
is not employed, in one mode or another, in scien-

48

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

tlfic research and fnvestiffation; unless we can
suppose tli;>t tliere are moral iulellijieuces who are
Insensible to tho displays of the divine glory, and
altogether iiidkrore<it, whether or not tliuy make
progress in the knowledge of their Creator.

OBJECTS ON WHICH THE FACULTIES OF Cj:i.ESTIAL IN-
TELLIGENCES WILL BE MU'LOYED.

Let US now consider the objects on which the
faculties of celostiil intellit^'nc-s will bo employed
in the way of scientific inveslifiution.

Tiie grand scene of universal natnre — that au-
gust theater on which the Almighty displays, to
countless myriads, his glorious perfections — will
remain substantially the same as it is at present,
after all the clrtnges in reference to our globe shall
have taken place; and the clear and expansive
view of its economy, its movements, and its pecu-
liar glories, which will then be laid open to their
Inspection, will exercise the faculties, and form a
considerable portion of the felicity of renovated
moral agents.

That the general system of nature will remain
materially the same, when the present fabric of
our globe is dissolved, may be argued, 1. From
the immense number and magnitude of the bodies
of which it is composed. In every direction to
which we can turn our eyes, the universe appears
to be replenished vi'itli countless orbs of light, dif-
fusing their splendors from regions immeasurably
distant. Nearly one hundred millions of tliese
globes are visible tiiroagh telescopes of the great-
est magnifying power; and it is more than proba-
ble, that beyond the reach of the finest glasses
that art has ever constructed, thousands of milli-
ons exist in the unexplored regions of immensity,
which tlie eye of man, while he remains in this
lower world, will never be able to descrJ^ AH
these luminous globes, too, are bodies of immense
magnitude; compared with anj' one of which, the
whole eartli dwindles into an inconsiderable ball.
It is probable that the smallest of them is at least
one hundred thousand times larger than the globe
on which we live. — 1. All these bodies are im-
mensely distant from the earth. Although we could
wing our course with a swiftness equal to ten
thousand miles a-day, it would require more than
five millions of years before we could reach the
nearest star; and the more distant of these orbs
are placed in regions so immensely distant, that
the imagination is bewildered and overpowered
when it attempts to grasp the immeasurable extent
which intervenes bstween us and them. This
circumstance proves, that these bodies are of an
immense size and splendor, since tliey are visible
at such distances; and consequently demonstrates,
that each of them is destined, in its respective
sphere, to accomplish some noble purpose, worthy
of the plans of a Being of infinite wisdom and
goodness. — 3. The whole of this vast assemblage
of suns and worlds has no imme'Iiate connection
with the present constitution and arrangement of
our globe. There are no celestial bodies that have
any immediate connection wiUi the earth, or di-
rect influence upon it, except the sun, the moon,
and several of the jjlanets; and therefore, those
more distant orbs, to which I allude, cannot be
supposf^d to be involved in the physical evils
wliich the fall of man has introduced into our
world; or to have the least connection with any
future change or catastrophe that may befall the
terraqueous globe. Though this globe, and "all
th:it it inherits," were dissolved; yea, although
the sun himself aiH his surrounding planets were
Bet in u blaze, and bktted forever out of creation ;

tlie innumerable and vast bodies which replenish
the distant regions of the universe, would sf ill ex-
ist, and continue to illuminate the voids ol crea-
tion with uudhninished splendor.

EXTENT OF THE GENERAL CONri^AORATION.

From the considerations now stated, it is evi-
dent, that the changes which are predicted to take
place at the general conflagration, will not i»xten(3
Ijcyond the environs of our globe, or at f.irthest,
beyond the limits of the solar system. There is,
indeed, no reason to conclude, that they will ex-
tend beyond the terraqueous globe itself and its
surrounding atmosjjhtTe; for since all the revela-
tions of Scrii)ture have a peculiar reference to the
inhabitants of this globe, the predicted changes
which are to take place in its physical constitu-
tion, at the close of the present economy of Provi-
dence, must be considered as limited to the same
sphere. As the world was formerly destroyed by
a deluge of waters, in consequence of the deprav-
ity of man, so its destruction by fire will take
place, for the same reason, in order that it may be
purified from all the eflfects of the ciir.te which
was originally pronounced upon the ground for
man's sake, and restored to its former order and
beauty. But there is not the smallest reason to
conclude, either from Scripture or the general
constitution of the universe, that this destruction
will extend beyond that part of the frame of na-
ture which was subjected to the curse, and is
physically connected with the sin of man; and
consequently, will be entirely confined to certain
changes which will he effected throughout the
continents, islands, and oceans, and in the higher
and lower regions of the atmosphere.

This appears to be the sense in which the most
judicious expositors of Scripture interpret those
passages which have a particular reference to this
event. Dr. Guyse, in his '-'Paraphrase on the
New Testament," interprets 2 Peter iii. 7, 12,
precisely in this sense: " Wlien that final decisive
day of the Lord Jesus shall come, — the aerial
heavens, being all in a flame, shall be destroyed,
and the constituent principles of the atmosphere,
together with the earth and all things in it, shall
be melted down by an intense dissolving heat into
a confused chaos, like that out of which they
were originally formed." And in a note on this
paraphrase he remarks, "By the heavens is meant
here the aerial heavens. For theheavens and the
earth are here spoken of in opposition to those of
the old world, which could mean nothing more
than the earth and its former atmosphere, the
state of which underwent a great alteration by
the flood." — "By the heavens and the earth, in
such passages as these," says the learned Dr.
Mede, "is to be understood, that part of nature
which was subjected to the curse, or that is inhab-
ited by Christ's enemies, and includes in it the
earth, water, and air, but not the heavenly bodies,
which are not only at a vast distance from it, but
it is little more than a point, if compared to them
for magnitude." — Dr. Dwight, when adverting to
this subject, expresses the same sentiment: "The
phrase heavens and earth (saj's he), in Jewish
phraseology, denoted the universe. In the present
case, hov.'ever (2 Peter iii. 10, 12. 13), the viorc.9
appear to be used with a meaning less extended,
where it is declared, that that which is intended
by both terms, shall he consumed, dissolved, and
pass away. This astonishing event, we are t;iiight
shall take place at the final ju 'gment; and ice
hare no hint in the Scriptures, that the j>id(fment will
involve any other beings beside angels and men."

EXTENT OF THE GENERAL CONFLAGRATION.

49

From tlie preceding considerations, it is obvi-
ous, that when the inspired writers use such ex-
Eressions as these, — "The stars sliali fall from
eaven," " the powers of iieaven shall be shaken,"
and, "the heaven departed as a scroll," thej' are to
bo understood not in a lucral but in a Jiguratwc
sense, as denoting ciianges, convulsions, and revo-
lutions in tlie moral world. And when, in refer-
ence to the dissolution of our globe and its appen-
dages, it is said, that "tiie heavens shall pass away
witli a mighty noise," the aerial heaven, or the
■nrrounding atmosphere is to be understood
How this appendage to our world may be dissolv-
ed, or ])uss away with a miyhtij noise, it is not
difficult to conceive, now that we liave become
acquainted with the nature and energies of its
constituen parts. One essential part of the at-
mosphere contains the principle of flame; and if
tills principle were not counteracted by its connec-
tion with another ingredient, or were it let loose to
exert its energies without control, instantly one
immense flame would envelope the terraqueous
globe, which would set on fire the foundations of
the nT6untains, wrap the ocean in a blaze, and
dissolve, not only coals, wood, and otlier combus-
tibles;, but the hardest substances in nature. It is
more than probable, that when the last catastrophe
of our globe arrives, the oxj'gen and nitrogen, or
the two constituent principles of the atmosphere,
will be separated by the interposition of Almigh-
ty power. And the moment this separation takes
place, it is easy to conceive, that a tremendous
concussion will ensue, and the most dreadful ex-
plosions will resound throughout the whole of the
expanse which surrounds the globe, which will
etun the assembled world, and shake the earth to
its foundations. For, if, in chemical experiments
conducted on a small scale, the separation of two
■gases, or their coming in contact with the princi-

[>le of flame, is frequently accompanied with a
oud and destructive explosion, — it is impossible
to form an adequate idea of the loud and tremen-
dous explosions which would ensue were the ichole
atmosphere at once dissolved, and its elementary
principles separated from each other and left to
exert their native energies. A sound as if crea-
tion had burst asunder, and accompanied the next
moment with a universal blaze, extending over
Bea and land, would present a scene of sublimity
and terror, which would more than realize all the
striking descriptions given in Scripture of this
solemn scene.

Again, when in reference to this tremendous
event, it is said, that " the earth and the heaven
fled away" (Rev. xx. 11), we are not to imagine,
that the distant bodies of the universe shall be
either annihilated or removed from the spaces
they formerly occupied; but that all sublunary
nature shall be thrown into confusion and disor-
der, and that the celestial orbs, during this uni-
versal uproar of the elements, will be ecli])sed
from the view, and appear as if they had fled
away. The appearance of the heavens whirling
with a confused and rapid motion, at this pi-riod,
would be produced, were the Almighty (as will
probably be the cise) suddenly to put a stop to
the diunial rotation of the earth, or to increase tlie
rale of its motion; in which case, the celestial
luminaries would appear either to stop in their
courses, or to bo thrown into rapi.l and irregular
agitations. And the appearance of the heavens
in reality receding from the view, would be pro-
duced, were the earth to leave its present station
among the planets, and to be impelled with a ra-
pid motion toward the distant parts of the solar
syste-Ti, or beyond its boundaries; in which case,

the sun would appear to fly ofi" witli a rapid mo-
tion to a distant part of space, until he had dinnij-
ished to the size of a twinkling star, and the moon
and the nearest planets would, in a short time,
entirely disappear. — Whether these suppositions
exactly correspond with the arrangements which
Divine Wisdom has made in reference to the gen-
eral conflagration, I do not take upon mo posi-
tively to determine. But I have stated them in
order to show, that all the descriptions contained
in Scripture, of the dissolution of our globe, and
of (he circumstances connected with il, can be
easily accounted for, and may be fully realized,
without supposing any change to take place in the
universe beyond the limits of the earth and its
atmosphere.

To suppose, as some have done, that the whole
fabric of creation will be shattered to pieces, that
the stars will literally fall from their orbs, and the
material universe be blotted out of existence, is
a sentiment so absurd and extravagant and so
coirtrary to the general tenor of Scripture, and
the character of God, that it is astonishing it
should ever have been entertained by any man,
calling himself a divine or a Christian preacher.*
I have already had occasion to remark, that there
is no example of annihilation, or entire destruc-
tion of material substances, to be found in the
universe, and that it is to the last degree improba-
ble, that any one particle of matter which now
exists will ever be completely destroyed, however
numerous the changes that may take place in the
universe-t We have no reason to believe, that
even those changes to which our world is destin-
ed, at the general conflagration, will issue in its
entire destruction. The materials of which the
earth and its atmosphere are composed, will still
continue to exist after its present structure is de-
ranged, and will, in all probability, be employed
in the arrangement of a new system, purified
from the physical evils which now exist, and
which may continue to flourish as a monument
of liivine power and wisdom, throughout an in-
definite lapse of ages.

In accordance with these sentiments, we find
the inspired writers asserting the stability and per-
petuity of the material universe. In a passage
formerly alluded to, the Psalmist, after liaving
contemplated the scenes of the material creation,
declares, in reference to these visible manifesta-
tions of the divine perfections, — "The glory of
the Lord shall endure forever, the Lord shall re-
joice in all his works." And the Apostle Peter,
when describing the dissolution of the elementary-
parts of our globe, intimates, at the same time,
the' continued exisience of the visible fabric of
nature. "We look," says he, "for new heavens
and a new earlh, wherein dwelleth righteousness."
The same truth is incidentally declared in many

* As a specimen of the vague and absurd declamations
on this subject, which have been published both from the
pulpit and'the press, the following extract from a modern
and elestantlv printed volume of sermons may snflice. —
" The bii^t of the seventh trumpet thundering' with terrifio
cbin'.'or tlirouirh the sky, and echoing from worhl to world,
sliall fill the universe, and time shall he no more! The sij
trumpets have already soumicd: wlien the seventh shaU
blow, a total change shall take place throii-jhnnt the crea.
tion; the vast ?lohe which we now inhabit sliall cii^^oive,
and minslc with von beauteous azure fiinianient, with sun,
and moon, and all the immense luminaries tiaminj there, in
one uiulmtinguishcd ruin; all shall vanish away like a fleet-
in? vapor, a visionary phantom ofthe nisht, and not. a singlg
trltrc of ti'irm be found! Even the last enemy. Death, shall
he destroyeil, and time itself shall he no more!" &c. &c.
When such bondiastic rant is thundered in the ears of Chris-
tian people, it is no wonder that their ideas on this srbjejt
become extremely incorrect, and even extravagantly a -snxd.

t See Sect, x, page 33.

50

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE

othe^ portions of Scripture. In the prophecies
respecting the Messiali and tiio duration of his
kingdom, it is declared, that "His name shall en-
dure forever, his name shall be continued as long
as the sun. His seed shall endure forever, and his
throne as the sun before me;" which expressions
evidently imply that the sun will not be blotted
out of creation, but continue to hold a station in
the universe as long as the Redeemer and his sub-
jects exist. It is also stated, in reference to the
same illustrious personage, "His seed will I make
to endure forever, and his throne as the days of
heaven;" which intimates, that tiie heavens will
endure as long as the government of Immanuel.
In reference to the stability and perpetuity of the
celestial luminaries, it is declared, that "Jehovah
hath prepared his throne in the heavens." And
when the Psalmist calls upon all the beings in the
universe to celebrate the praises of the Creator, he
says, in reference to the orbs of heaven, "Praise
ye him, sun and moon, praise him all ye stars of
light — Let them praise the name of the Lord; for
he commanded, and tliey were created. He hath
also established them forever and ever; he hath made
a decree ichich shall not pass;* which expressions
evidently imply, tiiat, wliatever changes may hap-
pen in particular systems, the great body of the
celestial orbs, which constitute some of the grand-
est scenes of the universe, will remain stable and
permanent as the throne of the Eternal. — But,
not to multiply quotations, — the following decla-
ration of Jehovah by the prophet Jeremiah, is
quite decisive on this point. "Thus saith the
Lord, who giveth the sun for a light by day, and
the ordinances of the moon and of the stars for a
light by night: The Lord of Hosts is his name.
Jf these ordinances depart from before me, saith the
ijord, then the seed of Israel also shall cease from
being a nation before me forever,"t which words
plainly imply, that if these luminaries continue
n existence, the accomplishment of the divine
promise is secured to all the spiritual seed of Is-
rael; but should they be blotted out of creation,
or depart from before Jehovah, the happiness of
the "ransomed of the Lord," and their relation to
him as the source of their felicity, would be ter-
minated forever. And have not these luminaries
continued in their stations, since the prediction
was announced, during a period of more than two
thousand years? And do they not still shine with
undiminished luster? Yes, and they will still con-
tinue to display the glor^ of their Creator, while
countless ages are rolling on. Hence it is declar-
ed, with respect to the "saints of the Most High,"
"They that be teachers of wisdom shall shine as
the brightness of the firmament, and they that
turn many to righteousness, as the stars forever
and ever."

In short, when we consider the boundless ex-
tent of the starry firmament, the scenes of gran-
deur it displays, the new luminaries, which, in
the course of ages, appear to bo gradually aug-
menting its splendor, and the countless myriads
of exalted intelligences which doubtless people its
expansive regions — when we consider that it con-
stitutes the principal portion of the empire of the
Eternal, the most astonishing scene of his opera-
tions, and the most striking display of his om-
nipotence and wisdom, — it would be one of the
most extravagant notions that can possibly be en-
tertained, and inconsistent with every rational
and Scriptural idea we can form of the goodness
and intelligence of the Deity, to suppose, that

•See Psalm hxii. 17; Uxxix. 36, &c.; ciii. 19; cxlviii.
S— 7.
t Jeremiah xzzi. 33, 30.

these vast dominions of his, in which his perfec-
tions shine with a splendor so iuefTable, will ever
be suflVred to fall to pieces, or to sink into non-
existence. With almost equal reason might wo
suppose, that the Creator himself would cease to
exist; and infinite space be left as a boundless blank
without matter and intelligence.

If the considerations now adduced be admitted
to have any force, and if the position I have en-
deavored to establish, cannot be overthrown, either
on Scriptural or rational grounds — many of our
sermons and poems which profess to give a de-
scription of tlie scenes of the '■'■Last day," must
be considered as containing a species of bombast
which has a tendency to bewilder the mind, and
to produce distorted views of the perfections of
the Creator, and of the wise arrangements he has
established in the system of the universe. A cele-
brated poet, when expatiating on this subject,
in order to give eifect to his descriptions, breaks
out into the following extravagant exclamations,
when alluding to the starry firmament:

" How far from east to west? The lab'ring eye
Can scarce the distant azure bounds descry —
So vast, this world's a grain; yet myriads grace
With golden pomp the throng'd ethereal space.
How great, how firm, how sacred all appears!
How worthy an immortal round of years!
Yet all must drop, as autumn's sickliest grain,
Jlnd earth and firmament be sought in vain.
Time shall be slain, all nature be destroy'd,
JVor leave a)i atom in the mighty void.
One universal ruin spreads abroad.
Nothing is safe beneath the throne of God."

Again,

" The flakes aspire, and make the heavens meir prey;
The sun, the moon, the stars, all melt away;
All, all is lost, no monument, no sign,
Where once so proudly blaz'd the gay machine," &o.

If such descriptions were to be literally realizedt
a. resurrection from the dead would be an absotuU
impossibility — the universe would be reduced to an
immense blank — and the visible glories of tho
Creator, by which alone his perfections are recog-
nized by finite intelligences, would be eclipsed in
the darkness of eternal night. Poetical scraps of
this description, are, however, frequently reitera-
ted by flaming orators, in order to give effect to
their turgid declamations, while they have no
other tendency than to lead their hearers into a
maze of error and extravagancy, to prevent them
from thinking soberly and rationally on the scenes
predicted in Scripture, and to excite the sneer of
philosophical infidels.

The only passage of Scripture which, at first
view, seems to militate against the position I
have endeavored to establish, is that contained in
Psalm cii. 25, 26. " Of old hast thou laid the
foundation of the earth; and the heavens are the
work of thy hands: they shall perish, but thou
shalt endure; yea, all of them shall wax old like
a garment; as a vesture shalt thou change them,
and they shall be changed: but thou art the same,"
&c. Some commentators, as Mr. Pierce and oth-
ers, suppose, that by "the earth and heavens," in
this passage, are to be understood, governments, or
civil and ecclesiastical states, as these words, ip
their figurative sense, sometimes denote. But
this does not appear to be the sense in which they
are here used. Taken in their literal sense, they
may refer to tiie same objects and events alluded
to by the Apostle Peter, in his Second Epistle,
chap. iii. 7, 10, formerly explained; namely, to
the dissolution of the earth and the aerial hea-
vens, at the close of time. But, supposing that
the words were taken in their most extensive
sense, as denoting the whole fabric of the material
universe, it would not in the least invalidate tba

PERMANENCY OV THE UNIVERSE.

51

I

proposition I am now supporting. The main de-
sign of the passiifre is to assert the eternity and
in)niutal)ility of God, in opposition to ti)e nuita-
blo nature of created beings. All material things
arc liable to change; but chan'^e does not imply
destruction cr annifiilalion. When it is said, "thi^
rigliteous pensk and no man layeth it to heart;"
and " they that arc far from God shall prrish,^^ it
is not to be understood, that either the one or the
Other shall be blotted out of existence. So, when
it is said that the heavens and the earth shall per-
ish, a change or revolution is implied, but not an
entire destruction. It is farther said, "As a ves-
ture they shall be folded up," &c. This appears
to be spoken in allusion to the custom which ob-
tains in the Eastern nations, among the grandees,
of frequently changing their garments as a mark
of respect; and seems to import, the ease and ce-
lerity with which the Divine Being can accom-
plish important changes in the universe. He can
accomplish the revolutions of worlds and of sys-
tems with an ease similar to that of a prince
changing his apparel, or laying asida his vestments.
But his changing any particular system from its
original state, implies only his opening a new
scene, and varying the course of his dispensations
in relation to a certain order of his creatures.
Nor does the passage under cons^ideration lead us
to conclude, that the changes alluded to shall all
take place throughout the whole universe at the
tame period, but they may be considered as hap-
pening at different periods throughout the lapse
of infinite duration, according to the designs
which his wisdom has determined to accomplish.
That all material objects are subject to decom-
pcsition and changes, we have abundance of evi-
dence in every department of nature. With
respect to the earth on which we tread, we per-
ceive the soil in the higher grounds gradually
washed down by the action of winds ami rains,
and carried by the rivers to the bed of the ocean.
Banks are accumulating at the mouths of rivers,
and reefs in the midst of the seas, which are the
terror of mariners and obstructions to navigation.
In every pit and quarry, and on the face of eve-
ry crag and broken precipice, we perceive the
marks of disorder, and the eifects of former chan-
ges and convulsions of natur-i; Vv'liile around the
bases of volcanic mountains, we behold cities
buried under a mass of solid lava, orchards and
vineyards laid waste, and fertile fields transform-
ed into a scene of barrenness and desolation. Ob-
servation likewise demonstrates, that even the
luminaries of heaven are not exempted from revo-
lutions and changes. The law of gravitation,
which extends%s influence through all the celes-
tial orbs, has a tendency, in the course of ages, to
draw together all the spacious globes in the uni-
verse, and to condense them into one solid mass;
and, were it not for the counteracting and sus-
taining hand of God, this efTect, at some distant
period in duration, would inevitably take place,
and creation be reduced to one vast and frightful
ruin. Many of the stars are ascertained to be
subjected to periodical changes, varying their Ins-
tot, and apijearing and disappearing at certain in-
tervals; while others, which formerly shone with
superior brilliancy, have gradually disappeared,
and their place in the heavens is no longer to be
found. Other stars, unknown to the ancients and
to preceding observers, have made their appear-
ance in modern times: and various nebulous spot?;,
in the distant regions of space, appear to be in-
creasing both in luster and extent. These, and
many other similar facts, indicate changes and
revolutious as great, and even much greater than

those which are predicted to befall the earth when
its atmosphere shall be dissolved, its "elemeiita
melt with fervent heat," and a new world rise out
of its ruins. It is probable, that, in the [apse of
infinite duration, all the systems which now ex-
ist, some at one period and some at another, will
undergo changes and transformations which will
astonish the intelligent creation, and open new
ai>d sublimer scenes of divine operation to an ad-
miring universe. But such changes will be alto-
gether difi'erent from annihilation -or utter destruc-
tion— altogether different from the ideas embodied
in the language of poets, when they tell us that
" not one atom shall be left in the mighty void,"
and that "earth and firmament will be sought in
vain." Those stars which appeared, the one in
1572, and the other in 1604, which shone with a
brightness superior to Venus, and afterward dis-
appeared, we have no reason to believe, are blot-
ted out of creation. They may either have been
changed, from flaming suns, to opaque globes like
the planets, and may still be existing in the same
region of space; or they may have been carried
forward with a rapid motion, to a region of the
universe altogether beyond the utmost limits of
our vision, or some other transformation, beyond
the reach of human conception, nlay have been
effected. P'or the annihilation of matter appears
to form no part of the plan of the Creator's ar-
rangements; at least, we have no proof of it, in
any one instance, and the very idea of it seems to
imply an inconsistency, which is repugnant to
what we already know of the divine cliaracter
and operations.

Such changes, then, so far from diminishing j
the visible glory of the universe, will present to *
the view of the intelligent creation a greater vari-
ety of sublime scenery than if all things "continued
as they were from the beginning of tlie creation,"
and will exhibit the attributes of the Almighty in
all their varied aspects and diversified modes ef
operation. While they demonstrate the mutaole
nature of created beings, and the immutabilify of
the Creator, they will enliven the scenes of the
universe, and excite the admiration and praises of
countless multitudes of enraptured intelligences.

From the considerations now stated, it will fol-
low, that the various relations which now subsist
among the great bodies which compose the uni-
verse,will not be materially altered by any changes
or revolutions which may take place in our ter-
restrial sphere: nor will the general aspect of cre-
ation be sensibly altered by any changes that may
occasionally happen among the ceb-stiul lumina-
ries. Whatever may be the nature of such chan-
ges, or however important they maj^ be to the in
habitants of the systems in which they happen,
they bear no sensible proportion to the whole fab-
ric of the universe. Though stars have, at differ-
ent ])eriods, disappeared from the visible concave
of the firmament, and have, doubtless, undergone
amazing revolutions, yet the general appearance
of the heavens in all ages has been nearly the
same, and will probably continue so for an inilefi-
nite lapse of ages yet to come. Although our
earth were just now transported to a point of
space a hundred thousand millions of miles be-
yond the sphere we presently occu])y, the g 'iieral
aspect and the relative positio-vs of the starrj- orbs,
and the figures of the different constellations, would
appear, on the» whole, the same as they now do
when we lift our eyes to the nocturnal sky. The
constellations of Orion and Charles's Wain, for
example, would present tlie same shape, thes.ime
number of stars, and t!ie same relations to neigh
boring constellations, when viewed from a region

62

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTITRE STATE.

1,000,000,000,000,000* of miles distant from the
eartli, as t!ii;y now ilo from the spliere in which
we are piiicod.f — Extension, majjnituclo, rela-
tive position, attraction, gruvitiition, central forces,
rectilineal ami circular motions, and other prop-
erties and relations of mailer, will still subsist in
the universe, after we are transported to another
state and to adifterentregiou; — and, consequently
the sciences founded on the various combinations
of these properties and of the laws which govern
them, will be cultivated by intelligent beings, and
carried forward to that measure of perfection
which they cannot attain in the present state; un-
less we suppose, what is evidently absurd and con-
trary to Scripture, that our knowledge will he
more limited in the future, than iu the present
world.

For example, the laws which direct the motions
of falling bodies, the appearances produced by bo-
dies iu the heavens moving with different degrees
of velocity, the apparent motions of the sun and
of tlie starry heavens, and the general principles
of geography and astronomy, on the planet Jupi-
ter, or any other similar globe, with the exception
of a few local modifications, are materially the
same as on the surface of the earth; — whicli is
evident from the consideration of his splieroidal
figure, his diurnal and annual motions, and from
the consideration that gravitation is regulated by
the same general laws on that body, and on similar
globes, as on the surface of the earth or the moon.
— The laws of vision, and the nature and proper-
ties of light and colors, are essentially the same
throughout all that portion of the universe whicli
lies within the sphere of our obseiTation; and we
have no reason to believe, that the general laws of
the universe will bo unhinged for the sake of man,
or on account of any changes that happen in his
present abode, or in reference to his future desti-
nation. For, to use the words of a late eminent
Scottish philosopher, "The light bj'^ which the
fixed stars are seen, is the same with that by
which we behold the sun and his attending planets.
It moves with the same velocity, as we observe by
comparing the aberrations of the fixed stars with
the eclipses of Jupiter's satellites. It is refracted
and reflected by the same laws. It consists of the
same colors. No opinion, therefore, can be formed
of the solar light which must not also be adopt-
ed with respect to the light of the fixed stars. The
medium of vision must be acted on in the same
manner by both, whether we suppose it the un-
dulations of an ether, or the emission of matter
from the luminous body." — From these facts we
may conclude, that the general and fundamental
principles of the science of Opiics are recognized
and acted upon in the remotest regions which the
telescope has explored, and from a portion of
that knowledge which is possessed by the intelli-
gences which occupy those distant provinces of
the Creator's empire — always, however, making
proper allowances for those local varieties and mo-
difications, which must produce an infinite di-

• That is, a thousand billicms; a billion being equal to ten
hundred thousand millions.

t This will appear quite evident to any one who considers
the immense distance of the stars from the earth and from
one another. We know, by experience, that a change of
place equal to 190 millions of miles, or the diameter of the
oartli's annual orbit, produces no sensible difference in the
appearance of the starry heavens, and it is certain that if
Uiis distance were multiplied by ten hundred thousand, the
esse would be nearly the same. The nearest star is, at
/east, 20 billions of miles distant, and remoter stars several
thousands of billions; and therefore, the relative positions
of bodies so widely dispersed from each other, would not be
»ensibly altered by a change of place equal in extent to a
thousand billions of tuilei.

versity of scenery throughout the universe, al-
though the same general laws operate throughout
the whole.

What has been now stated in reference to iighi,
gravitalion, and other affections of matter, might
be extended to various other properties, and to the
sciences which have been founded upon them;
such as, the pressure and motio;is of fluids, the
properties of gaseous bodies, the phenomena of
electricity and magnetism, and all those aftiuilies,
decompositions and changes, which arc the ob-
jects of chemical research. I'or, in a materinl fab-
ric, iu whatever portion of space it may bo placed,
there innst, from the very nature of things, be a
diversity of objects for the investigation of the nat-
uralist, the chemist, and the philosopher, in which
the wisdom and goodness of the Deity wifl al-
ways be displayed. Every system of matter,
wherever existing, in infinite space, has a deter-
minate size and figure; it is composed of an in-
finite number of atoms, variously modified and
arranged; it has certain diversities of surface and
internal arrangement; it is susceptible of certain
motions; it stands in certain relations to surround-
ing bodies, and it is destined to accomplish some
wise designs corresponding to the eternal plan of
the infinite Creator. There is no portion of organized
matter now existing, or which may hereafter exist,
but which must be considered in these and .simi-
lar points of view. Now the object of every ra-
tional intelligence, whether designated by the ap-
pellations of philosopher, astronomer or chemist,
when contemplating any material system, is, or
onght to be, ,to trace the various properties and
arrangements which exist in that system, in order
to perceive the intelligence, wisdom and benevo-
lence that appear in its construction, and thus to
acquire a more correct and comprehensive view
of the plans and perfections of his Creator. But
such .contemplations necessarily suppose, the cul--
tivation of those sciences which will enable him
to make such investigations with spirit and effect,
without which he would be unable to trace either
the qualities and relations of material objects, or
to perceive the admirable designs of the all-wise
Creator in the works which his almighty power
has produced.

SCIENCES WHICH WILL BK CULTIV.\TED IN A FtmiRE

STATE.

In order to illustrate this subject a little farther,
I shall oflfera few brief remarks on some of those
sciences which will be recognized and prosecuted
in a future world.

ARITHMETIC.

Arithmetic, or the knowledge of numbers, and
their various powersand combinations, is a science
which must be understood in a greater or less de-
gree by all intelligent beings wherever existing;
without some knowleda;f3 of which, no extensive
progress could be made in the study of the works
of God, and in forming just conceptions of the
immense number and variety of beings which ex-
ist within the limits of his empire. By the appli-
cation of the science of numbers the bulk of the
earth has been ascertained; the distances and mag-
nitudes of many of the heavenly bodies have been
computed; the proportion which one part of the
universe bears to another has been determined;
the inconceivable minuteness of the particles of
effluvia, of animalculae, and of the atoms of light,
has been brought within the limits of our contem-
plation; and we have been enabled to form some

ARITHMETIC.

53

• With the solar system to which we belong, there are
•onnecteil more than a hundred globes of different sizes, if
we take into account the planets both primary and seconda-
ry, and likewise the comets.

feint conceptions of the amazing velocities with
which tlie celestial orhs are carried forwanl in
their courses. The universe presents to our view
an assemblage of objects, relations, and move-
ments calculated to draw fortii into exercise all
the knowledge of numbers we can possibly acquire.
We are presented with magnitudes so stupendous,
and with spaces and distances so vast, that the
mind is obliged to summon up all its powers of
calculation, and all its knowledge of proportions,
progressions and equations, and to add ono known
magnitude to another, in a long mental process,
before it can approximate to anj-thing like a well
defined iiiea of such sublime and expansive objects;
and, after all its mental efforts, computations and
comparisons, it is frequently under the necessity
of resting satisfied with ideas which are vague, in-
accurate, and obscure. With regard to the miil-
tiplicity and variety of the objects which creation
contains, our present knowledge of the powers of
numbers is altogether inadequate to convey to the
mind anything approaching to a distinct and com-
prehensive conception. The number of systems
in the heavens which lie within the range of our
telescopes, is reckoned to be at least a hundred
millions (100,000,000). In the regions of infinite
epace, beyond the boundaries of all these, it is not
improbable, that ten thousand times ten thousand
millions of other systems are running their am-
ple rounds. With each of these sj-stems, it is
probable, that at least a hundred worlds are con-
nected.* Every one of these worlds and systems,
we have reason to believe, differs from another,
in its size, splendor, and internal arrangements,
in the peculiar beauties and sublimities with
which it is adorned, and in the organization and
capacities of the beings with which it is furnished.
The immense multitude of rational beings and
other existences with which creation is replenished,
is an idea which completely overpowers the human
faculties, and is beyond the power of our arithmeti-
cal notation to express. Even the multiplicity of
objects in one world or system, is beyond our dis-
tinct conception. How very feeble and imperfect
conceptions have we attained of the immensity of
radiations of light incessantly emitted from the
sun and falling upon our globe, and of the innu-
merable crossings and recrossings of these rays
from every object around, in order to produce vi-
sion to every beholder! of the incalculable myriads
Df invisible animalculae which swim in the waters
md fly in the air, and pervade every department
jf nature; of the particles of vapor which float in
^Ihe atmosphere, and of the drops of water contain-
fid in the caverns of the ocean! of the many mil-
lions of individuals belonging to every species of
vegetables, of which 50,000 different species have
ftlready been discovered, and of the number of
tjees, shrubs, flowers and plants of every descrip-
tion which have flourished since the creation! of
the countless myriads of the lower animals, and of
the human species, which have been brought
into existence since the commencement of time,
and of those which are yet to appear in regular
BUccession until time shall be no more! of the im-
mense variety of movements, adjustments and
adaptations connected with the structure of an ani-
mal body, of which fourteen thousand may be
reckoned as belonging to the system of bones and
muscles comprised in the human frame, beside a
distinct variety of as numerous adaptations in
each of the 60,000 different species of animals

which are already known to exist! of the count-
less globules contained in the eyes of the numer-
ous tribes of beetles, flies, butterflies, and other
insects, of which 27,000 have been counted in a
single eye! And, if the multiplicity of objects in
one world overwhelms our powers of concep-
tion and computation, how much more the num-
ber and variety of beings and operations conne<!t-
ed with the economy of millions of worlds! No
finite intelligence, without a i)rofound knowledge
of numbers in all their various combinations, can
form even a rude conception of the diversified
scenes of the universe; and yet, without some
faint conception at least, of such objects, the per-
fections of the Creator, and the glories of his king-
dom cannot be appreciated.

It is evident, therefore, that superior intelli-
gences, such as angels, and redeemed men in a
future state, must have their attention directed to
the science of numbers, unless we suppose, what
is contrary to Scripture, that their knowledge and
capacities of intellect will be more limited than
ours are in the present state. They may not stand
in need of the aids of anything similar to slates,
pencils or numerical chai-acters to direct them in
their computations, or to give permanency to the
results of their arithmetical processes. The vari-
ous steps of their calculations may be carried for-
ward with inconceivable rapidity, by a mental
process which will lead to unerring certainty; but
the same general principles on which we proceed
in our notations and calculations, must, from the
nature of things, be recognized in all their nu-
merical processes and sublime investigations.

The Scriptures occasionally give us some in-
timations of objects and scenes calculated to ex-
ercise the numerical powers of the heavenly in-
habitants. When Daniel beheld the vision of the
"Ancient of Days" sitting on his throne, a nu-
merous retinue of glorious beings appeared in his
train to augment the grandeur of the scene.
"Thousand thousands ministered unto him, and
ten thousand times ten thousand stood before
him." We are told in the sixty-eighth Psalm,
that " the chariots of God are twenty thousand,
even many thousands of angels!" and in the
Epistle to the Hebrews, we read of " an innumer-
able company of angels." The apostle John,
when narrating his visions of the celestial world,
tells us, that he " beheld and heard the voice of
many angels round about the throne, and the
number of them was ten times ten thousand, and
thousands of thousands." And again, "After this
I beheld, and lo, a great multitude which no man
could number, of all nations and kindreds, and
people, and tongues — and all the angels stood
round about the throne, and fell on their faces and
worshiped God." These expressions are the
strongest which the inspired writers make use of
in order to express a countless multitude of ob-
jects; and they lead us to conclude, that, in the
heavenly world, vast assemblages of intelligent
beings will be occasionally presented to the view;
and consequently, a countless variety of scenes,
objects and circumstances connected with their
persons, stations and employments. And, tliere-
fore,-if celestial beings were not familiarized with
numerical calculations and proportions, such
scenes, instead of being contemplated with intel-
ligence and rational admiration, would confound
the intellect, and produce an effect similar to that
which is felt by a savage when he beholds, for
the first time, some of the splendid scenes of civi-
lized life.

It is owing, in a great measure, to ignorance of
the powers of numbers, and the mode of applying

64

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

tliem, that we find it impossible to convey any
distinct ideas ol'lliu velocities, distances, and mag-
nitudes of tlie iieavenly bodies to tlie illiterate
rauiis of mankind. We are told by travelers,
(hat there are some untutored tribes wlioso know-
ledge of numbers is so limite.l, that they cannot
count beyond a hiindretl, and that there are others
whose notuiion is limited to twcniij, or the nura-
oer of fingers and toes on their hands and feet.
*Vhile such ignorance of minihers exists, it is quite
evidont, thatsuoh persons are entirely unqualified
for surveying, wiih an eye of intelligence, 'the
grand and ^iversijied operations of the Creator,
and for appreciating their number and magnifi-
cence. Even the most cultivated minds, from an
imperfect knowledge of this subject, find it diffi-
cult to form distinct conceptions of the ))lans of
the Creator, and of the various relations which
subsist in tlie universe. After familiarizing our
minds .to the classification and arrangement of
numbers, wo can form a tolerable notion of a
Utousand, or even of a hundred thousand; but it is
questionable, whether we hive any distinct and
well-defined idea of a million, or tea hundred
thousand. And if our conceptions of such a num-
ber be imperfect, how exceedingly vague must be
our ideas of a thousand millions, of billions, tril-
lions, ana quartiliwns, when used to express the
number or distances of t'le iieavenly bodies? — It
is evident, then, that beings of a superior order, or
in a higher state of exi^tonce, must have a more
profound and compreliensive knowledge of num-
bers than man : iu consequence of which tliey are
enabled to survey the universe with more intelli-
gence, and to form more distinct and ample con-
ceptions of the designs and operations of infinite
wisdom and omnipotence.

MATHEMATICS.

Mathematics, including geometry, trigonometry,
conic sections, and other branches, is another de-
partment of science which will be recognized by
superior beings in a future state. It is tlie science
of Quantity, and treats of magnitude, or local ex-
tension, as lines, surfaces, solids, &c. Tlie de-
monstrated truths of this science are eternal and
unchangeable, and are applicable to the circum-
stances of all worlds, wherever they may exist,
and in every period of duration, so long as the
material fabric of the universe remains. Guided
by the truths which this science unfolds and de-
monstrates, we have been enabled to determine
tlie figure and dimensions of the earth, to direct
our course from one continent to another across
the pathless deep, to ascertain the distance and
maguitude of the sun and planets, and the laws
which the Almighty has ordained for preserving
• their order anddirfcting them in their movements;
and have been led to form more correct ideas of
the immense distances and the vast extent of the
starry heavens. It was owing to his profound
knowledge of the truths of this science that the
illustrious Sir Isaac Newton determined the prop-
erties and the composition of light, the causes of
the alternate movements of the ocean, and the
mechanism of the planetary system; and expanded
our views of the grandeur of the universe and the
perfections of its Almighty Contriver.

Some of the truths of this science may appear,
to a superficial thinker, as extremely trivial, and
almost unworthy of regard. The properties of a
trianqle, sacii as, " that the square of the hypo-
tenuse of a right-angled triansrle, is equal to' the
squares of the other two sides" — "that the three
angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles"

— and, " that the sides of a plane triangle are to
one another as the sines of the angles opposite to
thenr' — may appear to some minds as more curi-
ous than useful, and scarcely deserving the least
attention. Yet these truths, when applied to the
relations of the universe, and traced to all their
legitimate consequence*, have led to the most im-
portant and sublime results. On the ground of
such truths we have ascertained, that the moon is
21(1,000 miles distant from the earth, that the sun
is thirteen hundred thousand times larger than our
globe, that the planet Herschel is removed to the
distance of eighteen hundred millions of miles, and
that the nearest star is at least two hundred thou-
sand times farther from us than the sun. When
the length of any one side of a triangle is known,
however large that triangle may be, and the quan-
tity of its angles determined, the length of the
other sides can easily be found : we know the
extent of the earth's diameter; we can ascertain
under what angle that diameter appears at the
moon, and from these data we can, by an easy
calculation, determine the length of any of the
other two sides of this triangle, which gives the
distance of the moon.

We have every reason to conclude, that angels
and other superior intelligences proceed on the
same general principles in estimating the distances
and magnitudes of the great bodies of the universe.
They may not, indeed, require to resort to the
same tedious calculations, nor to the some instru-
ments and geometrical schemes which we are
obliged to use. Without such aids, they may ar-
rive at the proper results with unerring precision,
and their computations may be performed almost
in the twiijkiing of an eye; and while ive are
obliged to confine our calculations to lines and
triangles of only a few thousands or millions of
miles in extent, they may be enabled to form tri-
angles of inconceivable extent, on hase lines of
several thousands of trillions of m.iles in length.
We are informed, in the book of Daniel, that
"the angel Gabriel, being commanded to fly swift-
ly from the celestial regions, reached the prophet
about the time of the evening sacrifice." This
fact implies, not only that angelic beings are in-
dued with powers of rapid motion, but that they
are intimately acquainted with the directions,
distances, and positions of the bodies which com-
pose the material universe. This heavenly mes-
senger, having been previously stationed far be
yond the limits of our planetary system, liad to
shape his course in that direction, to discriminate
the orbit of the earth from the orhit.s of the other
planets, and the particular part of its orbit in
which it was then moving; and having arrived at
the confines of our atmosphere, ho required to
discriminate the particular region in which Daniel
resided, and to direct his flight to the house in
which he was offering up his devotions. Now,
since angels are neither omniscient nor omnipres-
ent, as they are limited beings, possessed of ration-
al faculti(!s, and as it is probable are invested with
bodies, or fine material vehicles,* — they must be
guided in such excursions by their reasoning
powers, and the faculty of rapid motion with
which they are indued. Such excursions imply
the recognition ef certain mathematical principles,
and I have already had occasion to notice, that
these principles are applicable throughout every
part of the universe, and must be recognized,
more or less, by all intelligent beings.

Tlie Creator himself has laid the founda-
tion of the mathematical sciences. His works

* The Author will afterward have an opportunity of iUoi-
trating this position, in Fait III, of this work.

ASTRONOMY.

55

consist of globes and spheroi.ls of all different
dimensions, and of immnnso concentric rings
revolving with a rapid motion. Those globes arc
carried round different centers, some of them in
circles, some in ellipses, and others in long' eccen-
tric curves. Being impelled in their courses by
different degrees of velocity, their real motions
cannot be traced, nor the beautiful simplicity and
harmony of the dilierent systems made apparent,
without the application of mathematical investiga-
tions. To an observer untutored in this science,
many of the celestial motions would appear to
display inextricable confusion, und lead him to
conclude, that the Framsr of the universe was
deficient in wisdom and intelligent design. — The
principles of mathematics are also c.\hibit(.'d in the
numerous and diversified figures into which dia-
monds, crystals, salts, and other bodies, arc form-
ed; in the hexagonal cells of bees, wasps and hor-
nets, in the pobjjons and paralld lines which enter
into the construction of a spider's web, and in
many other objects in nature.' — Now, since God
has exhibited the elements of this science before
us in his works ; since he has indued us with ra-
tional faculti's to ai)preciate and apply these ele-
ments to useful investigations; and since his vv'is-
dom and intelligence, and the beauty and order of
^ his works, cannot be fully understood without
such investigations, — it is evident, that he must
have intended, that men should be occasionally
exercised in such studies; in order to perceive Ihe
depths 01 Us wisdom, and the admirable simpli-
city an I harmony of his diversified operations.
And as "he applications of this science are extreme-
ly limiti d in the present world, its more extensive
applicat ons, like those of many other branches of
knowledge, must be considered as reserved for the
life to c >me. — To suppose, therefore, that such
studies ■« ill be abandoned, and such knowledge
tSliteratt-d in a future state, would be to suppose,
th\t the works of God will not be contemplated in
tha'. state, and that redeemed men in the heavenly
world will lose a part of their rational faculties,
and remain inferior in their acquirements to the
inhabitants of the earth, even in their present im-
perfect and degraded condition.

A S T R O N O M V.

Astronomy is another science which will occupy
the attention of pure intelligences in the future
world. Tl'.e object of this science is, to determine
the distances and magnitudes of the heavenly bo-
dies, the form of the orbits they describe, \the laws
by which their motions are directed, and the na-
ture and destination of the various luminous and
opaque globes of which the universe appears to be
composed. It is the most noble and sublime of all
the sciences, and presents to our view the most
astonishing and magnificent objects, — whether we
consider their immense magnitude, the splendor
of their appearance, the vast spaces which sur-
round them, the magnificent apparatus with which
some of tliem are encompassed, the rapi.iity of
their motions, or the display they afford of the
omnipotent energy and intelligence of the Creator.
In conse'juence of the cultivation of this science,
ourviewa of the extent of creation, and of the sub-
lime scenery it unfolds, are expanded far beyond
what former ages could have conceived. From
the discoveries of astronomy it appears, that our
earth is but as a point in the immensity of the
universe — that there arc worlds a thousand times
larger, enlightened by the same sun which "rules
our day" — that the sun himself is an immense lu-
minous world, whose circumference would inclose
Vol. L— 14

more than twelve hundred thousand globes aa
large as ours — that the earth and its inhabitants
are carried forward through the regions of space,
at the rate of a thousand miles every minute —
that motions exist in the great bodies of the uni-
verse, the force and rapidity of which astonish
and overpower the imagination — and that beyond
the sphere of the sun and planets, cYealion is re-
plenished with millions of luminous globes, scat-
tered over immense regions to which the human
mind can assign no boundaries.

These objects present an immense field for the
contemplation of every class of moral intelli-
gences, und a bright mirror in which they will be-
hold the reflection of the divine attributes. Of
this vast universe, how small a portion has yet
been unvuiled to our view ! With respect to tho
bodies which compose our planetary system, we
know only a few general facts and relations. In
regard to the fixed stars, we have acquired little
vnore than a few rude conceptions of their im-
mense distance and magnitudes. In relation to
the cornets, we only know that they move in long
eccentric orbits, that they are impelled in their
courses with immense velocity, and appear and dis-
appear in uncertain periods of time. Of the nume-
rous systems into which the stars are arranged,
of the motions peculiar to each system, of the
relations which these motions have to the whole
universe as one vast machine, of the nature
a:id arrangement of the numerous nebulae which
are scattered throughout the distant regions of
space; of the worlds which are connected with
the starry orbs ; of the various orders of beinga
which people them ; of the changes and revolu-
tions which are taking place in different parts of
the universe, of the new creations which are start-
ing into existence, of the number o{ opaque globes
which may exist in every region of space, of the
distance to which the material world extends, and
of the various dispensations of the Almighty to-
ward the diversified orders of intelligences which
people his vast empire — we remain in almost pro-
found ignorance, and must continue in this igno-
rance, so long as we are chained down to this ob-
scure corner of creation. — There will, therefore,
be ample scope in the future world for further re-
searches into this subject, and for enlarging our
knowledge of those glorious scenes which are at
present so far removed beyond the limits of natural
vision, and the sphere of human investigation.

The heavens constitute the principal part of the
divine empire — compared with which our earth
is but as an atom, and "all nations are as nothing,
and are accounted to Jehovah as less than nothing
and vanity." Vast as this world may appear to
the frail beings that inhabit it, it probably ranks
among the smallest globes in the universe ; butal-
thougli it were twenty thousand times more spa-
cious than it is, it would be only as agrain of sand
when compared with the immensity of creation,
and all tho events that have passed over its inhabi-
tants ;is only a few of those ephemeral transactions
which crowd the annals of eternity. It is through-
out the boundless regions of the firmament that
God is chiefly ssen.and his glory contemplated 1 y
unnumbered intelligences. It is there that the
moral grandeur of his dispensations, and the mag-
nificence of his works are displayed in all their
variety and luster to countless orders of liif ration-
al ofispring, over which he will continue eternally
to preside. Hence the numerous allusions to "the
heavens," by the inspired writers, when the
majesty of God and the glory of his dominions
are intended to be illustrated. "All the gods of
the nations are idols ; but Jehovah made the Aea-

rens." "The Lord Iiafli prepared his throne in the
Aear-fns, and liia kiiijjJoiii rulcth over all." " By
his Spirit hj hatli g;iriii-:lied tin- lv?;vvons." " Tiie
hoavons dochir*i tlio glory of Jeiiovuh." "Wln'ii,
I consider thy hoavcns, tho work of thj' finger;-,
the moon anu the stars, which thou hust ordainod
— what is man, that thou art mindful of him .'
or the son of man, that thou visitest him ?"
" The heavens, even the heaven of heavens, can-
not contain thee." " By the word of Jehovah
wero the lieavens made, and all the host of them l)y
tht spirit of lii.s mouth." "The lieavens sliail
declare his righteousness." " Our God is in the
heavens, he liath done whatsoever he hath pleas-
ed." " The heavens sh'ill declare thy wonder.^, O
Lord!" "I lilt up mine eyes to thee, 0 thou
tiiat dwellest in the heavens.'''' •- Thus saith Go 1
tho Lord, he that created the heavens and stretched
them out." "Thehi'avens forhight are unsearch-
able." "As the heaven is high above the earth,
so great is his mercy toward them that fear him."
He is " the God of heaven, — he riJetli on the heaven
of heavens which he founded of old ; heaven is his
throne, and the earth his footstool." — When the
folly of idolaters is exposed, when the coming of
Messiah is announced, and when motives are pre-
sented to invigorate the faith and hope of the saints,
Jehovah is represented as that omnipotent Being
who " meteth out the lieavens with a span, who
spreadeth them out as a curtain, and hringcth forth
their hosts by the greatness of his might." " Thus
saith God "the Lord, he that created the hea-
vens and stretched tliem out — I will give thee for
a covenant of the people, for a light of the Gen-
tiles."* " Thus saith the Lord that created the
heavens — I said not to the seed of Jacob, seek ye
me in vain," &c.t These, and hundreds of sim-
ilar passages, evidently impljs that we ought to
contemplate the attributes of God chiefly in ri.da-
tion to the display which is given of them in the
firmament of his power — that the heavens are by
far the most extensive portion of his dominions —
and that th» power and intelligence displayed in
the formation and arrangement of the hosts of
heaven, lay a sure foundation for the hope and
joy, and the future prospects of the people of God.

Li order to form just conceptions of the beauty
and grandeur of the heavens, and of the intelli-
gence of Him who arranged their numerous hosts,
some of the fundamental facts and principles of
astronojny require to be understood and recog-
nized. The order of the bodies which compose the
solar system, or other systems which exist in the
universe — the form of their orbits, their propor-
tional distances and periods of revolution — their
magnitudes, rotations, velocities, and the various
phenomena which are observed on their surfaces
— the arrangement and positions of the different
clusters of stars — of the stellar and planetary
nehulcB, of double, triple, and variable stars, and
many other general facts, require to be known
before the mind can receive farther information
respecting the structure of tlie universe. It may
be also necessary, even in a higher state of ex-
istence, to be acquainted with those contrivances
or artificial hel^s by which very distant objects
may be brought near to view. We know by experi-
ence, in our present state, that by means of tele-
scopes, millions of stars, which the unassisted eye
cannot discern, are brought within the sphere of
our observation, and numerous other splendid ob-
jects, which, without the aid of these instruments,
would have been altogether concealed from our
view. The organs of vision, indeed, of the re-
deemed inhabitants of our globe, after the resur-

•Isai. xliv. 5 6. t Isai. xlv. 13, 19.

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

recfion, tlierc is eveiy reason to believe, will bo
capable of taking in a much more extensive range
of view than at present. They may be end jwed
with qualities which will enable them to penetrate
into the deptijs of space far .beyond the reach of
our most powerful telescope^^, and to ))erceira
with distinctness, objects at the distance of mnnjf
billions of miles. Still,, however, they may r&-
qtiire artificial aids to their natural organs, in
order to enable them to contemplate objects at
still greater distances. And although such helps,
to natural vision, analogous to our telescopes, may
be conceived as incomparably superior to ours,
yet the same general principles must be recog-
nized in their construction. For, as has been al-
ready noticed, the light which emanates from the
most distant stars consists of the same colors, and
is refracted and reflected by the same laws, as tlie
light which is emitted from the sun, and which
illuminates our terrestrial abode; and, consequent-
ly, must operate on the organs of sentient beings,
in those remote regions, in a manner similar to
its effects on the eyes of man.

It is highly probable, that, in the future world
a considerable portion of oar knowledge respect-
ing the distant provinces of the divine empire
will be communicated by superior beings who
have visited the different systems dispersed through
the universe, and liave acquired information re-
specting their history, and their physical anrf
moral scenery. We learn from Scripture, thai
there are intelligences who can wing their way,
in a short period of time, from one world to an-
other. Such beings, in the course of a thousand
centuries, must have made many extensive tours
through the regions of creation, and acquired a
comprehensive knowledge of the most striking
scenes which the universe displays. And, since
they have occasionally mingled in the society of
men-, and communicated intelligence from heaven
to earth, it is reasonable to believe, that they
will have more frequent intercourse with re-
deemed men in a future state, and communicate
the discoveries they have made respecting the
economy and grandeur of God's universal em-
pire. But, at the same time, it ought carefully to
be observed, that such communications would
neither be fully understood nor appreciated, un-
less the mind had a previous acquaintance with
the leading facts, and the grand outlines of astro-
nomical science. To enter into the spirit of thos;?
sublime details which angels or archangels might
comuumicate respecting other systems and worlds,
the mind 7iiust be prepared by a knowledge of
those principles which have already been ascer-
tained, and of those discoveries which have al-
ready been made in relation to the system of the
universe. Suppose a group of the native tribes
of New Holland or Van Dieman's Land, were
assembled for the purpose of listening to a detail
of the principal discoveries which modern as-
tronomers have made in the heavens — it would be
impossible to convey to their minds a clear con-
ception even of the prominent and leading facts
of this science, from the want of those genenl
ideas which are previously necessary in order to
the right understanding of such communicationau
Such would be the case of men in a future state,
in regard to the communications of angelic mes-
sengers from distant worlds, were their minds nol
imbued with a certain portion of astronomical
knowledge. They might stare, and wonder at
some of the facts detailed; but their ideas w->uld
be vague and confused, and they would be uiable
to form clear and comprehensive conceptions of
the various circumstances connected with tlia

NATURAL PHILOSOPHY.

scenes described, in all their bearings, aspects, and
relations, ami of the indications they ullord of
exquisite skill and intelligent design.

As tlie objects which astronomy explores arc
unlimited in their range, they will aflord an inex-
haustibie subject of study and contemplation to
superior beings, and to mankind when placed in
a iugher sphere of existence. Astronomical sci-
ence, as having for its object to investigate and
explore tiie facts and relations peculiar to all the
great bodies in the universe, can never be ex-
hausted; unless we suppose that finite minds will
bo able, at some future period in duration, to sur-
vey and to comprehend all the plans and opera-
tions of the infinite Creator. But this is evi-
dently impossible; for " who can by searching find
out God? Who can find out the Almighty to
perfection?" After millions of centuries have
run their rounds, new scenes of grandeur will be
still bursting on the astonished mind, now regions
of creation, and uew displays of divine power
and wisdom will still remain to be explored, and,
consL-quently, the science of astronomy will never
arrive at absolute perfection, but will be in a pro-
gressive course of improvement through all the
revolutions of eternity. In the prosecution of
such investigations, and in the contemplation of
such objects as this science presents, the grand
aim of celestial intelligences will be, to increase
in the knowledge and the love of God; and, in pro-
portion as their views of the glories of his em-
pire are enlarged, in a similar proportion will their
conceptions of his boundless attributes be ex-
panded, and their praises and adorations ascfid m
sublimer strains to Him who sits upon the throne
of the universe, who alone is " worthy to receive
glory, honor, and power," from every order of
his creatures.

• Since, then, it appears, that astronomy is con-
versant about objects the most wonderful and
Bublimo — since these objects tend to amplify our
conceptions of the divine attributes — since a clear
and distinct knowledge of these objects cannot be
attained without the acquisition of a certain por-
tion of astronomical science — since the heavens
constitute the principal part of God's universal
ein|>ire — since our present views of the magnifi-
cence of this empire are so obscure and circum-
scribed— since even the information that may be
coiUtnunicated on this subject, by other intelli-
gences, could not be fully understood without
some acquaintance with the principles of this
science — and since the boundless scenes it un-
folds present an inexhaustible subject of contem-
plation, and alFord motives to stimulate all holy
beings to incessant adoration — it would be absurd
to suppose that renovated men, in a superior state
of existence, will remain in ignorunci; of this sub-
ject, or that the study of it will ever be discontinu-
ed while eternity endures.

NATURAL PHILOSOPHY.

Natural Philosophy is another subject which
will doubtless engage the attention of regenerated
men in a future state.

The object of this science is to describe the
phenomena of the material world, to explain
their causes, to investigate the laws by which the
Almighty directs the operations of nature, and to
trace the exquisite skill and benevolant design
which are displayed in the economy of the uni-
verse. It embraces investigations into the several
powers and properties, qualities and attributes,
motions and appearances, causes and elTects, of
all the bodies with which we are surrounded, and

which are obvious to our senses, — such as light,

heat, colors, air, water, sounds, echoes; the elec-
trical and niitgnctical fluids; hail, rain, snow, dew,
thunder, lightning, the raiidjow, jiarhelia, wiuf's,
luminous and fiery meteors, the Aurora IjorealiS,
and similar objects in the system of nature.

From the discoveries of experimental philoso-
phers, we have been made acquainted with a va-
riety of striking facts and agencies in the system
of the universe, which dis[)lMy the amazing ener-
gii's of the Creator, and which tend to excite our
admiration of the depths of his wisdom and in-
telligence. We learn that the liffhl emitted from
the sun and other luminous bodies moves with a
velocity equal to 200,000 miles in a second of time
— that every ray of white light is composed of
all the colors in nature, blended in certain pro-
portions— that the immense variety of shades of
colors which adorns the different landscapes of
the earth, is not in the objects themselves, but in
the light that falls upon them — and that thou-
sands of millions of rays are incessantly flying
off from all visible objects, crossing and recros-
sing each other in an infinity of liirections, and
yet conveying to every eye that is open to re-
ceive them, a distinct picture of the objects
whence they proceed. We learn that the atmo-
sphere which surrounds us presses our bodies with
a weight equal to thirty thousand pounds, that it
contains the principles of fire and flame — that,
in one combination, it would raise our animal
spirits to the highest pitch of ecstasy, and in an-
other, cause our immediate destruction — that it is
capable of being compressed into 40,000 timea
less space tkan it naturally occupies — and tliat the
production of sound, the lives of animals, and
the growth of vegetables, depend upon its various
and unceasing agencies. We learn that a certain
fluid pervades all nature, which is capable of
giving a shock to the animal frame, which shock
may be communicated in an instant to a thou-
sand individuals — that this fluid moves with in-
conceivable rapidity — that it can be drawn from
the clouds in the form of a stream of fire — that
it melts iron wire, increases the evaporation of
fluids, destroys the polarity of the magnetic nee-
dle, and occasionally displays its energies among
the clouds in the form of fire-balls, lambent
flames, and forked lightnings. We learn that
the bodies of birds, fishes, quadrupeds, and insects,
in relation to their eyes, feet, wings, fins, and
other members, are formed with admirable skill,
so as to be exactly adapted to their various iicces-
siiies and modes of existence, and that thej- con-
sist of an infinite number of contrivances and
adaptations in order to accomplish the purpose
intended — and that the beaver, the bee, the ant,
and other insects, construct their habitations, and
perform their operations with all the skill and
precision of the nicest mathematical science. The
bee, in particular, works, as if it knew the high-
est branches of mathematics, which required the
genius of Newton to discover. — In short, the
whole of nature presents a scene of wonders,
which, when seriously contemplated, is calculvted
to expand the intellectual powers, to refine the
affections, and to excite admiration of the attri-
butes of God, and the plan of his providence.

Natural Philosophy may, therefore, be consi-
dered as a branch both of the religion of nature,
and of the religion of revelation It removes, in
part, the vail which is spread over the mysterious
operations of nature, and di^loses to our view the
wonders which lie concealed from the sottish
multitude, " who regard not the works of the
Lord, nor consider the operations of his hands."

58

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

It enables us to perceive the footsteps of the Al-
mighty hoth ill his majestic uioveinents and in his
most minute designs; for there is not a step we
can take in the temple of nature, under the guid-
ance of an enlightened philosophy, in wliich we
do not bi^lioKl traces of inscrutubie wisdom and
design and of a benevolence which extends its
kind regards to every rank of sensitive and intel-
ligent existence. It shows us the beauty and
goodness of the divine administration; and de-
monstrates, that the ( onnnunication of happiness
is the final cause of all the admirable arrange-
ments which pervade the material system. It
teaches us, that the several operations of nature
are carried on by means uncontrollable by human
power, and far transcending finite skill to plan or
to execute. It discovers those laws by which the
sovereign of the universe governs his vast domin-
ions, and maintains them in uudecaying beauty
and splendor, throughout all ages. It thus en-
ables us to consecrate the universe into one grand
temple, and, from the contemplation of every ob-
ject it presents, to elevate our minds, and to raise
our voices in grateful praises to Him " who creat-
ed all things, and for whose pleasure they are and
were created."

In the future world there will be abundant
scope for the prosecution of this subject to an in-
definite extent. With respect to the state of sepa-
rate spirits, after their departure from this world,
the employments in which they engage, and the
connection in which they stand to the material
system, we can form no distinct conception, and
must remain in ignorance until tlie period arrive
when we shall be actually ushered into that mys-
terious scene of existence. But, we are assured,
that, after the resurrection, a material world will
^ be prepared for the habitation of the just, in which
their connection with the visible universe will
doubtless, be far more extensive than it is at pres-
ent; and wherever a material system exists, it af-
fords scope for physical investigations, and for the
application of the principles of Natural Philoso-
phy. This new world will be prepared and ar-
ranged by divine wisdom; and consequently, will
exhibit scenes of beauty and grandeur, of exquis-
ite contrivance and benevolent design. For, if
the world we now inhabit, amidst all the deformi-
ties and physical derangements which sin has in-
troduced, displays so many beautiful arrange-
ments and marks of intelligence and skill, much
more may we conclude, that the world in which
"righteousness shall dwell," will abound in every-
thing that can charm the eye, the ear, or the im-
agination, and illustrate the manifold wisdom Of
God; and of course will present a boundless field
for the most sublime investigations of science.
This world, in many of its arrangements, will
doubtless present a variety of objects and scenes
altogether different from those we now behold,
even although the same physical laws which gov-
ern our terrestrial system should still continue
in operation. The inflection, refraction and re-
flection of light will be directed by the .same gen-
eral laws, and will produce effects analogous to
those we now perceive in the scene around us;
but the mediums through which it passes, and the
various objects by which it is refracted and re-
flected, and many other modifications to which it
may be subjected, may produce a variety of as-
tonishing effects, surpassing everything we now
behold, and exhibit scenes of beauty and magnifi-
cence of which we can, at present, form no dis-
tinct conception. The science of optics, in un-
folding to us the nature of light, and the various
properties of prisms, mirrors, and lenses, has en-

abled us to exhibit a variety of beautiful and sur»
|)rising effects, and to perceive traces of infinite
intelligence in relation to this element, beyond
what former ages could have believed. And,
therefore, we have reason to conclude, that, in the
\\n\vX of Omnipotence, when arranging other
worlds, the clement of light is capable of being
modified in a thousand forms of which we are
now ignorant, so as to produce the most glorious
and transporting effects. There will probably be
no such phenomena as thunder, lightning, and
fiery meteors in the world to which I allude, but
the electrical fluid, which is the principal agent in
producing these appearances, and which pervades
every part of nature, may operate in that world
in a different manner, and, instead of producing
effects that are terrific and appalling, may be an
agent for creating scenes which will inspire the
soul with admiration and delight. Some of the
mechanical, pneumatical, and hydrostatical prin-
ciples which enter into the construction of mills,
wheel-carriages, forcing-pumps, and steam-en-
gines, may not be applied to the same purposes
in the future world; but they may be applicable
to a variety of other unknown purposes corre-
sponding to the nature of that world, and the cha-
racter and employments of its inhabitants.

In such cases as those now alluded to, and in
thousands of otliers, there will be ample scope for
the application of all the principles of natural sci-
ence; and thousands of facts and principles, to us
unknov.'n, viil! doubtless be brought to light by
the superior sagacity of the heavenly inhabitants.
To maintain the contrary, would be, in effect, to
sujipose, that the inhabitants of heaven are en-
dowed with powers of intellect inferior to those
of the inhabitants of the earth, — that th.eir know-
ledge is less extensive than ours, — that they make
no progress in moral and isitellectual attainments,
— and that they have no desire to explore " the
works of the Lord, and to consider the operations
of his hands."

What has been novr stated in relation to Natu-
ral Philosophy, will equally apply to the science
of Chemistry. This science has for its object to
ascertain the first principles of all bodies, their
various properties and combinations, their mode
of operation, and the effects they produce in the
economy of nature. Its discoveries have not only
unfolded many of the admirable processes which
are going forward in the animal, vegetable, and
mineral kingdoms, but have opened to our view
many striking displays of the wisdom and good-
ness of God, in producing, by the most simple
means, the most astonishing and benevolent ef-
fects. The principles of this science must, there-
fore, be applicable, wherever matter exists, under
whatever shape or modification.it may present it-
self; and as all the worlds throughout the uni-
verse are composed of matter compounded into
various forms, they must afford an ample range
for the investigations and researches of chemical
science.

A.NATOMY AND rHYSIOLOGY.

Anatojmj and Vhysinlofiy are subjects which w«
may reasonably conclude, will occasionally oo
cnpy the attention of the inhabitants of heaven.
The object of these sciences is, to investigate the
general structure and economy of the animal
frame, and especially the parts and functions of
the human body. The system of organization
connected -with the human frame is the most ad-
mirable piece of mechanism which the mind can
contemplate — whether we consider the immense

ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY.

59

nnmber and variety of if? parts — the numerous
functions tiicy perforin — tin- rajiiJ niovfinoiits
wliicli are incessantly going forward througliout
every pnrt of tliis system — tlio amazing force ex-
erted by the heart and muscles — tiie processes of
digestion and rosjiiration — the system of veins and
arteries — flie articulation of the bones — the struc-
ture and course of the lymphatics — the ramifica-
tions 01 the nerves — the circulation of the blood
•»-the wonderful chantres, dissolutions and combi-
nations continually going on — the chemical ap-
paratus adapted for effecting these purposes — the
organs of sen>!e by which an intercourse is main-
tained vviih the external world — or, the harmonious
correspondence of all its parts and functions with
the agencies of the surrounding elements. From
the researches of physiologists we learn, that there
are in the human body, two hundred and forty-
five bones variously articulated, each of them hav-
ing above forty distinct scopes or intentions; and
four hundred and forty-six muscles of various
figures and magnitudes, connected with the bones,
for producing the numerous movements of the
animal frame — that more than a hundred of these
muscles are employed every time we breathe —
tliat ('lere are thousands of veins and arteries dis-
tribute ' ♦hroughout every part of this wonderful
Bystem — that the whole mass of blood rushes with
immense velocity, through these vessels, and
through the heart, fourteen times every hour —
that res()iration is nothing else than a species of
combustion, in which the oxygen of the atmos-
phere is absorbed by the blood, and diffuses heat
and vigor throughout the system — that the
lungs are composed of an infinite number of mem-
branous cells or vesicles variously figured, and
full of air, communicating on all sides with one
another, and that their number amounts to at
least 1,700,(100,000— that there arc above three
hundred thousand millions of pores in the glands
of tlie skin which covers the body of a niiddle-
eizotl man, through which the sweat and insensi-
ble perspiration are continually issuing — that
thousands of lacteal and lymphatic tubes are ab-
sorbing and convej'ing nutriment to the blood —
that the heart, in the center of the system, is ex-
erting an immense muscular force, and giving
ninety-six thousand strokes every twenty-four
hours; — and that all this complicated system of
mechanism, and hundreds of other functions of
which we are ignorant, must be in constant ac-
tion, in order to preser\'e us in existence, and se-
cure our enjoyment.

This subject frequently engaged the attention
of the pious Psalmist. With an eye of intelli-
gence and devotion, he surveyed the curious or-
ganization of the human frame, from tlie rude
embryo in the womb to the full development of
aJl its functions: — and, struck with the wisdom
and goodn^es displayed in its formation, he raised
his tlioughts to God in grateful adoration. " I
will praise thee," he exclaims, " for I am fearfully
and wonderfully made; marvelous are thy works!
How precious are thy wonderful contrivances in
relation to me, 0 GodI How great is the sum of
them! If I should count them, they are more in
number than the sand." This body, however,
wonderful as its structure is, is liable to decay,
and must soon be dissolved in the grave. But we
are assured that a period is approaching, when,
"all that arc in their graves shall hear the voice
of the Sor. of God, and shall come forth;" when
this mortfcl frame " shall put on immortality,''^ and
when that which was sown in corruption " shall
be raised in glory." If the human body, even in
Its present state of degradation, excited the pious

admiration of the Psalmist, much mo.o will it ap-
pear worthy of our highest admiration, when it
emerges from darkness and corruption to partici-
pate in the glories of an iminorlal life. Its facul-
ties will then be invigorated, its tendency to dis-
solution destroyed, every principle of disease an-
nihilated, and everything that is loathsome and
deformc<] forever prevented. Being " fashioned
like unto Christ's glorious body," its beauty will
be exquisite, its symmetry perfect, its aspect
bright and refulgent, and its motions vigorous
and nimble. Its sensitive organs will be refined
and improved, and the sphere of their operation
extended. Its auditory organs will be tuned 10
receive the most delightful sensations from the
harmonies of celestial music, and its visual powers
rendered capable of perceiving the minutest ob-
jects, and penetrating into the most distant re-
gions. New senses and faculties of perception,
and new powers of motion, fitted to transport it
with rapidity from one portion of space to another,
will, in all probability, be superadded to the pow-
ers with which it is now invested. And, surely,
the contrivances and adaptations which must
enter into the structure of such an organical
frame, cannot be less curious and exquisite, nor
display less wisdom and intelligence than those
which we now perceive in our mortal bodies. On
the contrary, we must necessarily suppose thou-
sands of the most delicate contrivances and com-
pensations, different from everj^thing we can now
conceive, to be essentially requisite in the con-
struction of an organized body intended for per-
petual activity, and destined to an immortal dura-
tion.— To investigate and to contemplate the con-
trivances of divine wisdom, by which the ele-
ments of disease and death are forever prevented
from entering into this renovated frame, and by
which it will be preserved in undecaying youth
and vigor throughout the lapse of innumerable
ages, we must necessarily conclude, will form a
part of the studies of renovated man in the future
world; — nor can we help thinking, that the know-
ledge of the wonders of the human frame we now
acquire, may be a preparatory qualification, for
enabling us to form an enlightened and compre-
hensive conception of the powers, qualities, and
peculiar organization, of the bodies of the saints
after the period of the resurrection.

HISTORY.

Another branch of study in which the saints in
heaven will engage, is History. History contains
a record of past facts and events; and makes us
acquainted with transactions which happened hun-
dreds or thousands of years before we were brought
into existence. When viewed in its proper light,
it may be considered as nothing else than a detail
of the operations of Divine Providence in relation
to the moral intelligences of this world. It illus-
trates the character of the human race, and the
deep and universal depravity in which they are in-
volved; and displays the rectitude of the charac-
ter of God, and the equity of his moral adminis-
tration.

History, therefore, will form a prominent ob«
ject of study among the celestial inhabitants, as fur-
nishing those materials which will illustrate the
ways of Providence and display the wisdom and
riffhteousness of Jehovah in his government of
the world. At present we can contemplate only
a few scattered fragments of the history of man-
kind. Of the history of some nations we are al-
together ignorant; and of the history of others we
have only a few unconnected details, blended

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

with fabulous narrations and extravagant fictions.
Of no nation whatever have wo an entire liis-
tory coniposeti of autlientic materials; and conse-
quontly.we perci-ive only some broken and detached
links ill tlie cliain of the divine dispensations, and
are unable to survey the tclwle of God's procedure to-
ward our race, in one unbroken series, from the crea-
tiou to the present time. We know notiiing decis-
ively respecting the period during wiiich man
remained in astate of innocence, nor of the particu-
lar transactions and events that hu])pened previous
to his fall. And how little do we know of the state of
mankind, of the events which befell them, and of
the civil and religious arrangements wliich existed
during the period of sixteen hundred years which
intervened between the creation and the deluge,
though the world was then more fertile and popu-
lous tban it has ever since been? How little do we
know of the state of mankind immediately previ-
ous to the flood, of the scenes of consternation
and terror which must have been displayed over
all the earth, when the fountains of the great
deep were broken up, and the cataracts of heaven
opened, and of the dreadful concussion of the ele-
ments of nature, when the solid strata of the earth
were rent asunder, when the foundations of tlie
mountains were overturned, and the whole sur-
face of the globe transformed into one boundless
ocean? How little do we know of the circum-
stances which attended the gradual rise of idolatry,
and of the origin of the great empires into wiiich
the world has been divided? How little do we
know even of the history of the Jewish nation,
posterior to the period of the Babylonish captivity?
Whither were the ten tribes of Israel scattered
among the nations, what events have befallen them
and in what countries are they now to be found?
Of the history of all the nations in the world ( the
Jews only excepted) from the time of the deluge
to the days of Hezekiah, a period of nearly two
thousand years, we remain in profound ignorance.
And yet, during that long period, God had not
forsaken the earth; his dispensations toward his
rational offspring were still going forward, em-
pires were rising and declining, one generation
passing away, and another generation coming,
and thousands of millions of mankind ushered
into the eternal world. — Those chasms in the his-
tory of mankind, which hide from our view the
greater portion of God's moral dispensations, v/ill
doubtless, be filled up in the eternal state, so that
we shall be enabled to take a full and comprehen-
sive view of the whole of the divine procedure, in all
its connections and bearings toward every nation
upon earth.

But the history of tnan is not the only to])ic in
this department of knowledge, that will occupy
the attention of the inhabitants of heaven. The
history of angels — of their faculties, intercourses,
and employments — of their modes of communi-
cation with each other — of their different embas-
sies to distant worlds — of the transactions which
have taken place in their sociely — and of the rev-
olutions through which they may have passsed —
the history oi apostate angels — the cause of their
fall and the circumstances with which it was at-
tended— the plans they have been pursuing since
that period, and the means by which they have
endeavored to accomplish their infernal devices —
will doubtless form a portion of the history of di-
vine dispensations, which '"the saints in light"
will be permitted to contemplate. Over this part of
the divine economy a vail of darkness is spread,
which, we have reason to believe, will be with-
drawn, when tiiat which is perfect is come, and,
" when we shall know even as also we are known."

It is also probable, that the leading facta In rolatio
to the history of other worlds will be disclosed U
their view. The history of the dillerent planet*
in the solar system, and of those wiiich aie con-
nected with other systems in the universe — tha
periods of their creation, the character of their in
habitants, the changes through which they have
passed, the peculiar dispensations of Provif.eiJC»
toward them, and many other particulars, may
be gradually laid open to the "redeemed from
among men," for enlarging their views of the di-
vine government. By means of such communica-
tions they will acquire a clearer and more distinct
conception of the moral character and attributes
of God, of the rectitude of his administrations, and
of "his manifold wisdom" in the various modes
by which he governs thedifferent provinces of his
vast empire. Under the impresstions which such
views \\ill produce, they will rejoice intiie divine
government, and join with rapture in the song of
IMoses, the servant of God, and the song of tha
liamb, saying, "Great and marvelous are thy
works. Lord God Almighty! Just and true are ilof
ways, tliou King of saints!"

Thus I have briefly stated, in the preceding
pages, some of those branches of science which
will be recognized by the righteous in a future
state. Several other departments of scientific
knowledge might have been specified; but my in-
tention simply was, to present to the view of the
reader, a few specimens as illustrations of my
general position, " that science must be consider-
ed as having a relation to a future world." If it
be admitted'that any one science will be cultiva-
ted in heaven, it will follow, that the greater part,
if not the whole, of those sciences which bring to
light the treasures of useful knowledge, will like-
wise be prosecuted by superior intelligences. For
all the useful sciences have an intimate connection
with each other; so that an acquaintance with on9
department of knowledge is essentially requisite
to a clear and comprehensive view of another.
Astronomy supposes a knowledge of arithmetic,
geometry, trigonometry, conic sections, and other
parts of mathematics; experimental philosoj)hy
supposes a previous acquaintance with natural
history and physiology, and is intimately connec-
ted with chemistry, mineralogy and botany; and
anatomy and physiology suppose a knowledge of
the leading ])rinciples of hydrostatics, pneumatics,
and optics. The principles of one science run iuto
another, and reflect a mutual luster on each other,
so that all the sciences, when properly conducted,
and viewed in their true light, iiavo but one object
in view, namely, to ascertain the facts existing ia
the universe, their connections and relations, the
laws by which they are governed, and the illus-
trations they afford of the power, wisilom and
benevolence of the Creator.

In order to elucilate this topic a little farther,
the following brief remarks maybe stated. — rit is
admitted, by every believer in Revelation,* that, at
tile close of the present arrangements respecting
our world, "All that arc in their gra\-es shall be
raised to life;" — and that, hpwever different the
constitution of these new-modeled bodies may
be from their present stale of organization, they
will still be 77(a<erJaZ vehicles, furnished with o.'gans
of sensation as the medium of perception to the
immaterial spirit. In what manner the disemb)-
died spirit views material objects and relations, and
applies the knowledge of them which it acqi ired

The foHowers of Baron Swedenborg only excepted.

LOCALITY OF HEAVEN.

61

while united to an organical structure, wo can
have no conception whatever, until we be actually
ushered into tlie separate state; and therefore, the
observations already made, or which may y(i* be
thrown out on this subject, are not intended to apply
to the intermediate state of the spirits of good men.
That state, whatever may bo the vwdus of percep-
tion and enjoyment in it, is a state of iiniieriection,
and, in some respects, an unnatural state, if we
•uppose that the spirit is not connected with any
material vehicle. — Now, if it be admitted, that
the spirits of tlie just, at the general resurrection,
are to be reunited to 9Hrt^mffiorga!ucal structures,
it must also be admitted, that those structures
must have some material substratum on which to
rest, or, in other words, a material world or habi-
tation in which they may reside. This last posi-
tion is also as evident, from the declaralions of
Scripture, as the first. For, while we are inform-
ed that the elementarj' parts of our globe shall be
dissolved, wo are at the same time assured, that
"neioheavens and a vewcarth'^ shall bo prepared,
*' wherein tiie righteous shall dwell;" — that is, a
world purified from pliysical and moral evil, and
fitted to the renovated faculties of the redeemed,
will be prepared in some part of the universe, for
the residence of the just.

In reference to the locality, and the circum-
stances of our future destination, there appear to
be only four or five suppositions tJiat can be
formed. Either, 1. The world wo now inhabit
will be new-modeled, after the general conflagra-
tion, and furnished as a proper place of residence
for its renovated inhabitants; — or, 2. Some of the
globes now existing in other regions of space, to
which the holy inhabitants of our world will be
transported, may be allotted as the more perma-
rs;it habitation of the just; — or, 3. Some new
globe or world will be immediately created,
adapted to the circumstances of redeemed- men,
and adorned with scenery fitted to call forth into
exercise their renovated powers; — or, 4. The re-
deemed inhabitants of heaven may be permitted
to transport themselves from one region or world
to another, and be furnished with faculties and
vehicles for this purpose; — or, 5. After remaining
for a certain lapse of ages in that particular world
to which they shall be introduced immediately
after the resurrection, they may be transported to
another region of the universe, to contemplate a
new scene of creating power and intelligence,
and afterward pass, at distant intei-vals, through a
successive series of -transportations, in order to
obtain more ample prospects of the riches and
glovy of God's universal kingdom.

In all these cases, whatever supposition we may
ado[)t as most jyobable, the general laws which
now govern the universe, and the general rela-
tions of the great bodies in the universe to each
other will remain, on the whole, unchanged; un-
less we adopt the unre;isonable and extravagant
supposition, that the whole frame of .Tehovah's
empire will be unhinged and overturned, for the
sake of our world, which, when compared with
the whole system of nature, is but an undistin-
guishable atom amidst the immcnsify of God's
works. With equal r?ason might we su])pose,
tliat the conduct of the inhabitants of a planet
which revolves around the star Sirius, or the
catastrophe which m^y have befallen the plannts
Ceres, Pallas, Juno, and Vesta, must necessarily
Involve in them the destruction of the terraqueous
globe.

Let us suppose, for a moment, tliat the globe
we now inhabit, with its surrounding atmosphere,
shall be cleared from the physical evils which

now exist, and tndergo a new arrangement to
render it fit for jeing the abode of holy intelli-
gences in a future state. On this supposition,
would not the general relation of thinys in the
universe remain loaterially the same as the i)re-
sent? The wide ix|)anse of the firmament, and
all the orbs it contains, would present the same
general arrangement and relation to each other
which they now do. Supposing this new-modeled
world to be of a spherical or spheroidal figure —
which appears to be the general form of all the
great bodies in the universe with which we are ac-
quainted— tliero would then exist certain proper-
ties and relations between circles cutting each
other at right angles, or in any other direction;
or, in other words, between an equator and poles,
parallels and meridians, &c. as at present. The
direction of its motion, the inclination of its axis,
the component parts of its surface and atmo-
s])here, and other ciicumstances, might be changed,
which would produce an immense variety of phe-
nomena, diflerent from what now takes place;
but the same general principles of geography,
astronomy, arithmetic, geometry, chemistry and
mechanics, which apply to all the various rela-
tions of material objects wherever existing, would
also be applicable in the present case; and, conse-
quently, such sciences would be recognized and
cultivated, and the principles on which they are
built, reasoned and acted upon, though in a more
perfect manner than at present, in this new world
and new order of things. Such sciences, there-
fore, as flow from the natural and necessary rela-
tions of material objects, and which tend to direct
us in our conceptions of the wisdom and power
of the great Architect of nature, must be known
and cultivated in a future world, where rational
spirits are united to an oi"ganical structure, and
related to a material system; and consequently,
if the elementary and fundamental principles of
such sciences he not acquired now, they will re-
main to be acquired hereafter.

The remarks now stated, with a few modifica-
tions, will apply to any of the other suppositions
which may be made in reference to the place and
circumstances of our future destination. — Even
although the relations of external objects and
their various properties, in the future world, were
altogether different from those which obtain in
the present state of things, still, it would be use-
ful and highly gratifying to the mind, to be
enabled to compare the one with the other, and to
perceive how the divine wisdom is displayed in
ever)' mode and varif^ty of existence. No possi-
ble mode of material existence, however, can be
conceived to exist, to which some of the elemen-
tary principles of scientific knowledge do not

apply-
There are, indeed, several arts and sciences
which more immediately respect the present
world, and our relations rn it, which cannot be
supposed to be subjects of investigation in a fu-
ture state of happy existence. The study of
lanc/iia(;es — which forms a prominent object of
atleiition with many of those who declaim on the
vanity of human science — the study of medicine
as a practical art; the study of civil and municipal
law; the study of political economy, heraldry and
fortification; the arts of war, farriery, falconry,
hunting and fishing; the arts of the manufac-
turer, clothier, dyer, &c. — in short, all those arts
and sciences which have their foundilion in the
moral depravity of our nature, will, of course,
pass away, as exercise's which were jieeuliar to
the deranged state of our terrestrial habitation,
and the degraded condition of its inhabitants; and

62

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

which, therefore, can have no place in a scene
of moriil p'-rfoclion. But tlio principles of tlic
matiit'nialics, and tiic axioms on whicii tlicy are
built, the Initlis of natural philo-iophy, astronomy,
geognipiiy, infcliaiiics, and similar scii'nces, will
be recognized, and form the basis of reasoning
and of action, so long as we are sentient beings,
and have a relation to the material system of the
universe. Many truths, indeed, which now re-
quire much 'stud)', an.l long and intricate trains
of reasoning b.-fore tliey can be acquired, may be
perceived by simple intuition, or, at least, be more
easily and rapidly apprehended than at present.
If a genius like tliat of Sir Isaac Newton, could
perceive at a glance, the truth of Euclid's propo-
(Bitions in geometry, without attending to every
part of the process requisite for ordinary minds,
we may reasonably conclude, that, in a world
where the physical and moral obstructions to in-
tellectual energy are removed, every science, and
every relation subsisting among corporeal and
intellectual beings, will be more clearly, rapidly,
and comprehensively perceived and understood.

Many striking instances have occasionally oc-
curred, of the capacity and vigor of the human
mind, even amidst tlie obscurities, and the obstruc-
tions to mental activity which exist in the present
state of things. The illustrious Paschal, no less
celebrated for his piety than for his intellectual ac-
quirements, when under the age of twelve years,
and while immersed in the study of languages,
without books, and without an instructor, dis-
covered and demonstrated most of the proposi-
tions in the first book of Euclid, before he knev/
that such a book was in existence — to the aston-
ishment of every mathematician; so that, at that
early age, he was an inventor of geonietricid
science. He afterward made some experiments
and discoveries on the nature of sound, and on
tlie weight of the air, and demonstrated the pres-
sure of the atmosphere: and, at the age of sixteen,
composed a treatise on Conic Sectwns, which in
the judgment of men of the greatest abilities,
was viewed as an astonishing effort of the human
mind. At nineteen years of age, he invented an
arithmetical machine by which calculations are
made, not only without the help of a pen, but
even without a person's knowing a single rule in
arithmetic ; and by the age of twenty-four, he
had acquired a proficiency in almost every branch
of hum.an knowledge, when his mind became en-
tirely absorbed in the exercises of religion. — The
celebrated Grotius, at the age of thirteen, only a
year after his arrival at the university of Leyden,
maintained public theses in mathematics, philoso-
phy and law, Avith universal applause. At the
age of fourteen, he ventured to form literary
plans which required an amazing extent of know-
ledge ; and he executed them in such perfection,
that the literary world was struck with astonish-
ment. At this early age he published an edition
of Martianus Capella, and acquitted himself of
the task in a manner which would have done
honor to the greatest scholars of the age. At the
age of seventeen he entered on the profession of
an advocate, and pleaded his first cause at Delf,
with the greatest reputation, have previously
made an extraordinary progress in the knowledge
of the sciences. — The Admirable Crichton, wlio
received his education at Perth and St. Andrews,
by the time he had reached his twentieth yei^r,
was master of ten languages, and had gone through
the whole circle of the sciences as they were then
understood. At Paris he one day engaged in a
disputation, wdiich lasted nine hours, in the pre-
sence of three thousand auditors, against four

doctors of the church and fifty masters, on every
subject they could propose, and liaving silenced
all his antagonists, he came off amidst the loud-
est acclamations, though he had spent no time in
previous preparation for the contest. — Gasaendi,
a celebrated philosopher of France, at tlie age of
four, declaimed little sermons of his own com-
po.'ution; at the age of seven, spent whole night;
in obsendng the motions of the heavenly bod'ea,
of which he acquired a considerable knowledge;
at sixteen, he was appointed professor of .-hetoric
at Digne, and at the age of ninete(:n, he was
elected professor of philosophy in the university
of Aix. His vast knowledge of philosophy and
mathematics was ornamented by a sincere attach-
ment to the Christian religion, and a life formed
upon its principles and precepts. — Jeremiah lior-
rox, a name celebrated in the annals of astronomy,
before he attained the age of seventeen, had ac-
quired, solely by his own industry, and the help
of a few Latin authors, a most extensive and accu-
rate knowledge of astronomy, and of the branches
of mathematical learning connected with it. He
composed astronomical tables for himself, and
corrected the errors of the most celebrated as-
tronomers of his time. He calculated a transit
of the planet Venus across the sun's disc, and
was the first of mortals who beheld this singular
phenomenon, which is now considered of so
much importance in astronomical science. Sir
Isaac Newton, the fame of whose genius has ex-
tended over the whole civilized world, made his
great discoveries in geometry and fluxions, and
laid the foundation of his two celebrated works,
his '' Principia" and '^Optics," by the time he
was twenty-four years of age ; and yet these
works contain so many abstract, profound and
sublime truths, that only the first rate mathema-
ticians are qualified to understand and appreciate
them. • In learning mathematics, lie did not study
the geometry of Euclid, who seemed to him too
plain and simple, and unworthy of taking up his
time. He und..-rstood him almost before he read
him ; and a cast of his eye upon the contents of
his theorems, was sufficient to make him master
of their demonstrations. — Amidst all the sublime
investigations of physical and mathematical sci-
ence in which he engaged, and amidst the variety
of books he liad constantly before him, the Bible
was that which he studied with the greatest ap-
plication; and his meekness and modesty were no
less admirable than the variety and extent of his
intellectual acquirements. — J. Philip Barratier,
who died at Halle in 1740, in the twentieth year
of his age, was endowed with extraordinary
powers of memory and comprehension of mind.
At the age of five, he understood the Greek,
Latin, German and French languages; at the ago
of nine he coul 1 translate any part of the He-
brew Scriptures into Latin, and could repeat the
wliole Hebrew Psalter; and before he had rom-
pleted his tenth year, ho drew up a Hebrew lexi-
con of uncommon and difficult words, to which
he added man)' curious critical remarks In his
thirteenth year he published, in two voluaies oc-
tavo, a translation from the Hebrew of Rabbi
Benjamin's " Travels in Europe, Asii and Afr'ca,"
with historical and critical notes and dissertations;
the whole of which he completed in four months.
In the midst of these studies, he prosecuted phi-
losophical and mathematical pursuits, and in h.s
fourteenth year invented a method of discovering
the longitude at sea, which exhibited the strongest
marks of superior abilities. In one winter he
read twi nty great folios, with alV 'he attenticm of
a vast comprehensive mind.

GENERAL REMARKS.

63

Sach rapid D'ogross in intellectual acquire-
ments strikingly evinces tiio vigor and compre-
hension of tliu human faculties; and if such varied
and extensive acquisitions in knowledge can be
attained, even aniiJst the frailties and physical im-
pediments of this mortal state, it is easy to con-
ceive, with wrhat energy and ra[)iJity the most
■ublime investigations may be prosecuted in the
future world, when thts spirit is connected with
an incorruptible bo.ly, fitted to accompany it in
all its movements; and when every moral obstruc-
tion which now impedes its activity shall be com-
pletely removed. The flights of the loftiest ge-
nius that ever appeared on earth, when compared
with the ra|)id movements and comprehynsive
views of the heavenly inhabitants, may be no
more than as tlie flutterings of a microscopic in-
sect, to the sublime flights of the soaring eagle.
When endowed with new and vigorous senses,
and full scope is afforded for exerting all the en-
ergies of their renovated faculties, they may be
enabled to trace out the hidden springs of nature's
operations, to pursue the courses of the heavenly
bodies, in their most distant and rapid career, and
to Survey the whole chain of moral dispensations
in reference not only to the human race, but to
tlie inhabitants of numerous worlds.

I shall conclude this part of my subject witli
an observation or two, which may tend to illus-
trate and corroborate the preceding remarks.

In the first place, it may be remarked, tliat our
knowledge in the future world, will not be di-
minished, but increased to an indefinite extent.
This is expressly declared in the Sacred Records.
" Now we see through a glass darkly, but then
face to face. Now we know in part, but then
shall we know, even as also we are known," 1
Cor. xiii. 12. This passage intimates, not only
that our knowledge in a future state shall be en-
larged, but that it shall be increased to an extent
to which we can, at present, affix no limits. And
if our intellectual views shall be immensely ex-
panded in the realms of light, we may rest assur-
ed that all those branches of useful science which
a-ssist us in exploring the operations of the Al-
mighty, will not only be cultivated, but carried
to the higiiest pitch of perfection. For the facul-
ties we now possess will not only remain in ac-
tion, but will be strengthened and invigorated; and
tlie range of objects on which they will be em-
ployed will be indefinitely extended. To suppose
otherwise, would be to suppose man to be depriv-
ed of his intellectual powers, and of the faculty
of reasoning, as soon as he entered the con-
fines of the eternal world.* When we enter that
world we carry viith us the moral and intellectual
faculties, of which we are now conscious, and
along with them, all those ideas and all that know-
ledge which we acquired in the present state. To
imagine that our present faculties will be essen-
tially changed, and the ideas we have hitherto ac-
quired totally lost, would be nearly the same as
to suppose that, on entering the invisible state,
men will be transformed into a new order of
beings, or be altogether annihilated. And, if our

• Art o!d Welsh minister, while one day pnrsiiing his
■tallies, lii< wife being :a the room, was suddenly interrupted
by her asking liini a <|He.;lioa, whiiili has not always been
»o satislaclorily answered — "John Evans, do you tliink we
»hall be known to each other in heaven?" Without hesita-
tion he replied, — " To l)e sure we shall, — do you think we
•hall he greater fooU- ihere, than we are here." — If the reader
keep in mind that our knowledge in heaven will be inrreascd,
and not diniini.lied; or, in other words, tliat^e shnli not be

greater \\>nU there than we are here," he will he at no loss
la appreciate all that I have hitherto stated on this subject.

present knowledge shall not be destroyed at death,
it must form the ground-work of all the future
improvements we may make, and of all the dis-
coveries that may be unfolded to our view in the
eternal state.

Again, the superior intellectual views which
some individuals shall possess beyond others, will
constitute the principal distinction between re-
deemed men in the heavenly state. The princi-
pal j>reparation for heaven will consist in rettewed
dispositions of mind — in the full exercise of love
to God, and love to all subordinate holy intelli-
gences, and in all the diversified ramifications of
action into which these grand principles necessari-
ly diverge. When arrived at that happy world
the saints will feel thetnselves to be all equal, —
as they were once "children of disobciiience evea
as others," as they were all 'redeemed "by the
precious blood of Christ," as they were renewed
by the influence of the Spirit of grace, — as they
stand in the relation of brethren in Christ, and
"sons and daughters of the Lord God Almighty," as
they are the companions of angels, and kings and
priests to the God and Father of ail. Without
the exercise of holy dispositions, heaven could
not exist, although its inhabitants had reached the
highest pitch of intellectual improvement; — and
all who shall ultimately be admitted into that
happy state, will feel that they are eternally in-
debted for the privileges and the felicity they en-
joy, to "Him that sits upon the throne, and to
tiie Lamb who was slain, and redeemed them to
God by his blood." But, notwithstanding, there
will be a considerable dilFcrence, at least in the
first instance, in regard to the expansion of their
intellectual views. In this point of view, it is im-
possible to suppose that they can be all equal.
Suppose a Negro slave, who had been recently
converted to Christianity, and a profound Chris-
tian philosopher, to enter the eternal world at the
same time, is it reasonable to believe, that there
would be no difference in the amplitude of their
intellectual views? They would both feel them-
selves delivered from sin and sorrow, they would
be filled with admiration and wonder at the new
scenes which opened to their view, and would be
inspired with the most lively emotions of humili-
ty and reverence; but if each of them carried
along with him that portion of knowledge which
he acquired in the present life, there behooved to
be a considerable difference in the comprehension
of their views and the range of their inlellectual
faculties; unless we suppose that a change amount-
ing to a miracle was effected in the nnnd of the
Negro, whose mental views were previously cir-
cumscribed within the narrowest limits. And, to
suppose such a miracle wrought in every indi-
vidual case, would not only be contrary to every-
thing we know of the general plan of the divine
procedure, but would destroy almost every motive
that should now induce us to make progress " in
the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus
Christ," and in our views of the works and dis-
pensations of the Almighty. Li the course of
ages, indeed, the Negro may equal the pldioso-
phcr in the extent of liis intf llectual acqiiisitions;
but, in the first instance, both Scripture* and
reason declare, that a diff'erence must exist, :i^. )ss
the laws which govern the intellectual world be
entirely subverted. Can we suppose, for a mo-
ment, that an ignorant profligate, wiio has been
brought to repentance, and to " the knowledge of
the truth," only a few hours before his entrance
into the world of spirits, shall, at the moment ho

* See Dan. xii. 3. 1 Cor. xv. 41, 42. Matt. x.w. 14, Stc.

64

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

has arrived in the work! of bliss, acquire tiiose
enlarged coacoptioas of divine trulii, which an
Owen, a Watts, a Doddriilijoi, or u Dwiglit, attained
at lliosanu'- stage of thoir existence? or that a Hot-
tentot, who liad been brought to the knowlodgu of
Ciirislianity only during the last month of his life,
shall enterinto lieaven with the expansive views
of a Newton or a Boyle? Such a suj);)ositi()U would
involve a reflection on the wisdom of the divine
administration, and would lead us to conclude,
that all the labor bestowed by the illustrious cha-
racters now alluded to, in order to improve in the
knowledge of divine subjects, was quite unneces-
sary, and even somewhat approaching to egregi-
ous trifling.

Not only will the views of the saints in heaven
be dilFerent in point of expansion and extent, but
their love to God, and the virtues and graces
which flow from tiiis principle, will be diminished
or increased, or, at least, somewhat modified by
the narrowness or expansion of their intellectual
views. If it be ad;nitted, tiiat the more we know
of God, the more ardently .-fhall we love him, — it
will follow, that, in proportion as we acquire a
comprehensive and enlightened view of the opera-
tions of God in the works of creation, in the
scheme of providence, and in the plan of redemp-
tion, in a similar proportion will our love and
adoration of his excellenci^^s be ardent and expan-
sive. In this point of view, " the saints in light"
will make improvement in holiness throughout all
the ages of eternity, though, at every stage of
their existence, they will enjoy pure and unmin-
gled bliss. Every science they cultivate, and every
stage to which they advance in intellectual im-
provement, will enable them to discover new glo-
rie.s in the divine character, which will raise their
affections to God still higher, and render their
confonnity to his moral image more complete.

It has frequently been a subject of discussion
among theologians, "Whether there shall be de-
grees of glory in heaven." This question may be
easily settled, if there be any weight in the re-
marks and considerations now stated. In so far
a^5 there is a difference in the vigor and expansion
of the intellectual powers, and in the amplitude
of objects they are enabled to embrace, in so far
may there be said to be "degrees of glory:" and
a superiority, in this respect, may be considered
as the natural reward which accompanies the dili-
gent improvement of our time and faculties upon
earth, though such a distinction can never be sup-
posed to produce any disposition approaching to
envy, as so frequently happens in the present
state. On the contrary, it may be supposed to
produce a holy emulation to improve every facul-
ty, to cultivate every branch of celestial science,
and to increase in the knowledge of God. In cor-
roboration of these visws, we are told in Scrip-
ture, that the reward bestowed on those servants
to whom talents were intrusted, was in proportion
to the improvement they had made; and that, at
the close of time, the saints will present an ap-
pearance analogous to that of the spangled firma-
ment; for •' as one star differeth from another star
in glory, so also is the resurrection from the
dead." And tae reason of this difference is inti-
mated by the prophet D:ini?l, "They that excel
in wisdom shall shine as the brightness of the
firmament; and they that turn many to rigliteous-
ness as the stars forever and ever."

If the remarks now stated have any solid foun-
flation, it will follov/, that what is generally term-
ed human science, ought not to be indiscriminately
considered, as having a relation merely to the
present world. Such an idea would tend to damp

our ardor in the prosecution of scientific know-
ledge, and immensely to lessen its value. He who
I)rosecutes science as a subject of speculation
merely in reference to the contracted span of hu-
man life, acts from very mean and narrow views,
and may be considered, in some points of view,
as little superior to the avaricious man whose
mind is completely absorbed in the acqnisilion of
the perishing treasures of this world. The Chris-
tian philosoj)her, who traces the perfections and
tiie agency of God in every object of his investi-
gation, ought to consider his present pursuits as
the commencement of a course of improvement
which will have no termination — as introductory
to the employments and the pleasures of a higher
state of existence — and as affording him a more
advantageous outset into that better world than
happens to those wlio are destitute of his enlarged
views. For the more we know at present of the
wonders of infinite power, wisdom, and goodness,
in the material works of the Almighty, it is obvi-
ous, that the better prepared we shall be for more
enlarged contemplations of them at a future
period, and the greater pleasure shall we feel in
beholding those objects and operations, which
are now hid in obscurity, unvailed to view.

In throwing out the preceding reflections, I
am far from pretending to determine the par-
ticular arrangements which the Almighty has
formed in relation to our future destination, or the
particular circumstances which may exist in
other worlds. These things lie altogether b.eyond
the range of our investigation, and must, therefore,
remain inscrutable in our present state. But there
are certain general principles or relations which
necessarily flow from the nature of things, which
must be considered as included within an/ par-
ticular arrangements which may be formed; and,
it is such general principles only to which I refer.
— Nor should it be considered as presumption, to
endeavor to ascertain these general principles or
necessary relations of things. The Creator evi-
dently intended we should know them ; since ho
has exhibited such an immense variety of his
works before us, and has bestowed upon us fac-
ulties adequate to explore their magnitude and
arrangement, to investigate the laws which direct
their motions, and to perceive their connection
and dependency, and some of the grand designs
for which they were intended.

To everything that has just now been stated in.
relation to the prosecution of science in the celes-
tial world, I am aware it will be objected by some,
that such knowledge, if it be requisite in a fu-
ture state, will be acquired by immediate intui-
tion, or communicated in a direct manner by the
Creator himself. — For such an assumption, how-
ever, though frequently reiterated, there is no
foundation in any passage of Scripture when
rationally interpreted; and it is repugnant to the
clearest dictates of reason. It is contrary to
every regular mode with which we are acquainted,
by which rational beings are conducted to know-
ledge and happiness; it would imply a continued
miracle — it would supersede the use of the intel-
lectual faculty — and it would ultimately detract
from the felicity of intelligent agents. For, a
gieat part of the happiness of finite intelligences
arises from the gradual evolution of truth, in con-
sequence of the exercise of their rational powers.
Were all our knowledge in a future state to be
acquired by immediate intuition, or by direct
supernatural communications from the Deity, oui
rational faciftties would, in many respects, be be-
stowed in vain. It appears to be one of the maij^

WORK OF REDEMPTION.

65

designs for which these faculties were bestowed,
that we might he directed in the prosecution of
knowledge, and led to deduce, from the scenes of
the visible universe, those tonchisions which will
gradually expand our views of the plans and per-
fections of its Almiglity Author. Adam, when
in a state of innocence (and his condition in fiiat
■tate, as a moral agent was precisely similar to
the state of good men in a future world, except
bis liability lo fall), was not acquainted, in the
first instance, with every object in the world in
which he was placed, and their various relations
to each other. He "ould not know, for example,
th^ peculiar scenery of nature which existed on
the side of the gloije opposite to that on which he
was placed. He must have exercised his senses,
his locomotive faculties, and his reasoning pow-
ers, and made observations and experimental re-
searches of various kinds, before he became
thoroughly acquainted with the structure, the
order and beauty of his terrestrial habitation. —
For to suppose man, in any state, a mere passive
subject of intellectual and external impressions,
would be, to reduce him to something like a mere
machine; and would imj)ly a subversion of all
tlie established laws which regulate the opera-
lions of matter and intellect throughout the uni-
/erse.

We know, likewise, that truth is gradually de-
/eloped even to superior intelligences. The mani-
fold wisdom of God in reference to the church,
and the plans of his grace in relation to the Gen-
tile world, were, in some measure, vailed to »he
angels, until the facts of the death and resurrec-
tion of Christ, and the preaching and miracles of

the Apostles were exhtoited to their view;* and
hence they are represented as "desiring to loon
into," or prying with avidity into the mysteries
of redemption; which cvidenty implies, the active
exertion of their powers of reason and intelli-
gence, and their gradual advancement in th«
knowledge of the purposes and plans of the Al-
mighty. And, if beings far superior to man in
intellectual capacity, acquire their knowledge in
a yradual manner, by reflection on tiie ciiviuo
dispensations, and the exercise of their mental pow-
ers, it is uuretisonable to suppose, that man, even
in a higher sphere of existence, will acquire all his
knowledge at once, or without the exertion of t'lose
intellectual energies with which he is endowed.

In short, were the saints in heaven to acquire
all their knowledge as soon as they entered on
that scene of happiness, we must suppose them
endowed with capacities, not only superior to the
most exalted seraphim, but even a])proximating
to the infinite comprehension of the Deity him-
self. For the range of investigation presented to
intelligent beings is boundless, extending to all
the objects and moral dispensations of God,
throughout tlie immensity of his empire. And
could we suppose finite minds capable of em-
bracing the whole of this range of objects at one
comprehensive grasp, their mental energy would
soon be destroyed, and their felicity terminate;
for they could look forward to no farther expan-
sion of their X'iews, nor to a succession of a new
range of objects and operations through all the
future ages of eternity.

*Ephes.iu. 5— U.

PART III.

ON THE AIDS WHICH THE DISCOVERIES OF SCIENCE AFFORD, FOR ENA-
BLING US TO FORM A CONCEPTION OF THE PERPETUAL IMPROVEMENT OF
THE CELESTIAL INHABITANTS IN KNOWLEDGE AND FELICITY.

On the subject of a future world, and the ex-
jrcises and enjoyments of its inhabitants, many
foolish and inaccurate conceptions have prevailed,
even in the Christian world. We are assured,
that the foundation of the felicity to be enjoyed
In that world, rests on the absence of every evil,
and the attainment of moral perfection — that the
princii)le of depravity must be destroyed, and the
affections purified and refined, before we can en-
joy "the inheritance of the saints in light."
These are principles which are clearly exhibited
In the Scriptures, which are accordant to the dic-
tates of sound reason, and which are generally
recognized by the various sections of the religious
world. But the greater part of Christians rest
contented with the most vague and incorrect ideas
of the felicity of heaven, and talk and write
abc ut it in so loose and figurative a manner, as
cai conV'-y no rational nor definite conception of
the sublijue contemplations and employments of
celestial intelligences. Instead of eliciting, from
Ihe metaphorical language of Scripture, the iiteas
Intended to be conveyed, they endeavor to expand
and ramify the figures employed by the sacred
writers still farther, heaping metaphor, upon meta-

Ehor, and epithet upon epithet, and blen ling a num-
er of discordant ileas, until the image or picture
presented to the mind assumes the semblance of a
spbudid chaotic mass,or of a dazzling but undefined

meteor. The term Glory, and its kindred epithets,
have been reiterated a thousand times in descrip-
tions of the heavenly state; — the redeemed have
been represented as assembled in one vast crowd
above the visible concave of the sky, adorned
with " starry crowns," drinking at " crystal foun-
tains," and making " the vault of heaven ring"
with their loud acclamations. The Redeemer
himself has been exhibited as suspended like a
statue in the heavens above this immense crowd,
crowned with diadems, and encircled with a reful-
gent splendor, while the assembly of the heavenly
inhabitants were incessantly gazing on this ob-
ject, like a crowd of spectators gazing at the
motion of an air balloon or of a splendid meteor
Such representations are repugnant to the itleas
intended to be cam-eyed by the metaphorical lan-
guage of Inspiration, when stripped of its dra-
pery. They can convey nothing but a meager
and distorted conception of the employments of
the celestial state, and tend only to bewilder the
imagination, and to " darken counsel by words
without knowledge."

Hence it has happened, that certain infidel
scofftTs have been led to conclude, that the Chris-
tian Heaven is not an object to be desiren'; and
have frequently declared, that "they could feel no
pleasure in being suspended forever in an ethereal
region, and perpetually singing psalms and hymns

66

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

to the Eternal" — an idea of lieaven which is too
frequently coiivcyod, by the vapiie and distorted
descriptions which have been given of llio exer-
cises and entertainments of the future world.

Tliere is an intimate connection between the
word and the works of God: they reflect a mu-
tual hister on each other; and the di.<coveries made
in the latter, are calculated to expand our concep-
tions and to direct our views, of the re\'elations
contained in tlie former. Without taking into
account tlic sublime manifestations of the Deity,
exhibited in iiis visible creation, our ideas of celes-
tial bliss must bo very vague and confused, and
our hopes of full and perpetual enjoyment in the
future state, extremely feeble and languid. From
the very constitution of the human mind, it ap-
pears, that in ordor to enjoy uninterrupted happi-
ness, without satiety or disgust, it is requisite that
new objects and new trains of thouglit be continu-
ally opening to view. A perpetual recurrence
of the same objects and perceptions, however
sublime in themselves, and however interesting
and delightful they may have been felt at one pe-
riod, cannot afford uninterrupted gratification to
minds endowed with capacious powers, and ca-
pable of ranging through the depths of immensity.
Eut all the objects in this sublunary world and
its environs, and all the events recorded in sacred
and profane history, are not sufficient to occupy
the expansive minds of renovated intelligences
for a million of ages, much less throughout an
endless duration of existence. A series of objects
and of moral dispensations, more extensive than
those immediately connected with the globe wc
inhabit, must, therefore, be supposed to engage
the attention of "the spirits of just men made
perfect," during tiie revolutions of eternal ages;
in order that their faculties may be gratified and
expanded — that new views of the divine character
may be unfolded — and that in the contemplation
of his peifeclions, they may enjoy a perpetuity
of bliss.

It has been, indeed, asserted by some, that "the
mysteries of redemption will be sufficient to afford
scope for the delightful investigation of the saints
to all eternity." It is readily admitted, that con-
templations of the divine perfections, as displayed
in human redemption, and of the stupendous facts
which relate to that economy, will blend them-
selves with ail the other exercises of redeemed in-
telligences. While their intellectual faculties are
taking the most extensive range through the do-
minions of Him who sits upon the throne of uni-
versal nature, they will never forgot that love
"which brought them from darkness to light,"
and from the depths of misery to the splendors of
eternal day. Tlieir grateful and triumphant praises
will ascend to the Father of glory, and to the
Lamb who was slain, forever and ever. But, at
the same time, the range of objects comprised
within the scheme of redemption, in its reference
to human beings, cannot be supposed, without the
aid of other objects of contemplation, to afford
full and uninterrupted scope to the faculties of
the saints in heaven, throughout an unlimited du-
ration.— This will appear, if we endeavor to ana-
l}'ze some of the objects presented to our view in
the economy of redemption.

In the first place, it may be noticed, that a vail
of mystery surrounds several parts of the plan of
redemption. " God manifested in the flesh," the
intimate union of the eternal self-existent Deity
with "the man Christ Jesus," — is a mj'stery
impenetrable to finite minds. But the eternity,
the omnipresence, and the omniscience of the
Deity, are equally mysterious '"or they are equally ,

incomprehensible, and must forcvei remain in-
comprehensible to all limiteil intclligt nces. It is
equally incotnprehensible, that a sensitive being
should exist, turnished with all the organs and
functions requisite for animal life, and yet of a
size ten thousand times less than a mite. These
are facts which must be admitted on the evidence
of sense and of reason, but they lie altogether be-
yond the sphere of our comprehension. — Now, an
object which involves a mystery cannot be sup-
posed to exercise and entertain the mind through
eternity, considered simply as incomprehensible,
without being associated with other objects which
lie within the range of finite comprehension;
otherwise, reflections on the eternity and omni-
presence of God, considered purely as abstrac-
tions of the mind, might gratify the intellectual
faculties, in the future world, in as high a degree
as anything that is mysterious in the scheme of
redemption. But it is quite evident, that perpetu-
al reflection on infinite space and eternal duration,
abstractly considered, cannot produce a very high
degree of mental enjoyment, unless when consid-
ered in their relation to objects more definite and
comprehensible. Such contemplations, however,
will, doubtless, be mingled with all the other views
and investigations of the saints in the heavenly
world. In proportion as they advance through
myriads of ages in the course of unlimited dura-
tion, and in proportion to the enlarged view*
they will acquire, of the distances and magnitudes
of the numerous bodies which diversify the re-
gions of the universe, their ideas of infinite space
and of eternal duration, will be greatly expanded.
For we can acquire ideas of the extent of
space, only by comparing the distances and bulla
of material objects with one another, — and of du-
ration by the trains of thought derived from sen-
sible objects, which pass through our minds, and,
from the periodical revolutions of material object*
around us. — The same things may be affirmed in
relation to all that is mysterious in the economy
of human redemption; and, if wljat has been now
said be admitted, it will follow that such myste-
ries, considered merely as incomprehensible reali-
ties, could not afford a rapturous train of thought
to entertain the mind throughout the ages of
eternity. It is definite and tangible objects, and
not abstract niysteries, that constitute the proper
subject of contemplation to a ralionat mind. For
although we were to ponder on what is incompre-
hensible, such as the eternity of God, for millions
of years, we should be as far from compi'ehend-
ing it, or acquiring any new ideas respecting it,
at the end of such a period, as at the present mo-
ment.

In the next place, redemption may be consider-
ed in reference to the important fads connected
with it, in which point of view, chiefly, it becomes
a tangible object for the exercise of the moral and
intellectual powers of man. These facts relate
either to the "man Christ Jesus, the Mediator be-
tween God and Man," or to the saints whose re-
demption he procured. The general facts which
relate to Christ, while he sojourned in our world,
are recorded in the New Testament by the Evan-
gelists. These comprehend his miraculous con-
ception, and the circumstances which attended
his birth; his private residence in Nazareth; his
journies as a public teacher through the land of
Judea; bis miracles, sufferings, crucifixion, resur-
rection, and ascension to heaven. There is doubt-
less a variety of interesting facts, beside those
recorded in the Gospels, with whicli it would be
highly gratifying to become acquainted: such as
the manner in which he spent his life, from thft

STARRY SYSTEMS.

period of the first dawnings of reason, to the time
of his coinincncing liis public administrations —
the various trains of thought that passed through
his miud — the mental aud corporeal exercises in
which lie engaged — the social intercourses in
which lie mingled — tlie tojdcs of conversation he
suggested — the amusements (if any) in which he
Indulgeil — the pious exercises and sublime con-
templations in which he engaged, when retired
from the haunts and the society of men; — and
particularly fiiose grand and important transac-
tions in which he has been employed, since that
moment when a cloud interposed between his glo-
rified body, and the eyes of his disciples, after his
ascent from Mount Olivet — What regions of the
material universe he passed through in liis trium-
phant ascent — what intelligence of liis achieve-
ments he conveyed to other worlds — what portion
of the immensity of space, or what globe or ma-
terial fabric is the scene of his more immediate
residence — wliat are the external splendors and
peculiarities of that glorious world — what inter-
course he has with the spirits of just men made
perfect; with Enoch and Elijah, who are. already
furnished with bodies, and with other orders of
celestial intelligences — what scenes and move-
ments will take place in that world, when he is
about to return to our terrestrial sphere, to sum-
mon all the tribes of men to the general judgment?
The facts in relation to these, and similar circum-
stances, still remain tobe^sclosed.and the future
details which may be given of such interesting
particulars, cannot fail to be highly gratifying to
every one of the " redeemed from among men."
But still, it must be admitted, that although the
details respecting each of the ficts to which I al-
lude, were to occupy the period of a thousand
years, the subject would soon be exhausted, if
other events and circumstances, and another
train of divine dispensations were not at the same
time presented to view; and the future [leriods of
eternal duration would be destitute of that variety
and novelty of prospect which are requisite to se-
cure perpetual enjoyment.

The other class of facts relates to the redeemed
themselves, and comprehends those diversified
circumstances, in the course of providence, by
means of which they were brought to the know-
ledge of salvation, and conducted through the
scenes of mortality to the enjoyment of endless
felicity. These will, no doubt, afford topics of
interesting discourse, to diversify and enliven the
exercises of the saints in heaven. But the remark
now made in reference to the other facts alludi-d
to above, is equally applicable here. Tiie series
of divine dispensations toward every indivi.lual,
though different in a few subordinate particulars,
partakes of the same character, and wears the
same general aspect. But although the di^spcnsa-
tionR of Providence toward every one of the re-
deemed were as difi'erent from another as it is pos-
sible to conceive, and although a hundred years
were devoted to the details furnished by every
saint, eternity v/ould not bo exhausted by such
themes alone.

Again it has been frequently asserted, that the
•aints in heaven wil. enjoy perpetual rapture in
continually gazing on the glorified humanity of
Christ Jesus. The descriptions sometimes given
of this circumstance, convey the idea of a vast
concourse of spectators gazing upon a resplendent
figure placed upon an eminence in the midst of
them, — which, suiely, must convey a very im-
perfect and distorted idea of the sublime employ-
ments of the saints in light. The august splen-
dors of the ♦• man Christ Jesus," tho exalted station

67

he holds in the uppei world, the occasional inter-
course which all his taints will hold with him,
'the lectures on the plaqs and operations of Deity
with which he may entertain them — the splendid
scenes to which he may guide them — and many
other circumstances — will excite the most raptu-
rous admiration of Him who is " the brightness of
the Fathi-r's glory." — But, since the glorified body
of Christ is a material substance, and, consequent-
ly, limited to a certain portion of space, it cannot
be supposed to be at all times within the view of
every inhabilant of heaven; and although it were,
the material splendors of that body, however au-
gust and astonishing, cannot be supposed to afford
new and varieil gratification, throughout an end-
less succession of duration. He will be chiefly
recognized as the Head of the redeemed family of
man, "in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom
and knowledge," who will gradually reveal the
secret counsels of God, and direct his saints to
those displays of divine glory which v^^ill enlighten
and entertain their mental powers. This seems to be
intimated in such representations as the follow-
ing,— " The Lamb that is in the midst of the tlirona
shall feed them, and shall lead them to living
fountains of water." By directing their attention
to those objects in which they may behold the
most august displays of divine perfection, and
teaching them in what points of view they ought
to be contemplated, and what conclusions they
ought to deduce from them, "he will feed" the
minds of his people with divine knowledge, and
"lead them" to those sublime and transporting
•trains of thought, which will fill them with "joy
unspeakable and full of glory."

Thus it appears, that neither the mysteries, nor
the leading facts connected with the plan of re-
demption, when considered merely in relation to
human beings — can be supposed to be the prin-
cipal subjects of contemplation in the heavenly
state, nor sufficient to produce those diversified
gratifications which are requisite to insure per-
petual enjoyment to the expanded intellects of re-
deemed men in the future world — though such
contemplations will undoubtedly be intermingled
with all the other intellectual surveys of the saints
in glory.

I now proceed to the principal object in view,
namely, to inquire, what other objects will em-
ploy the attention of good men in the world to
come, and what light the material works of God,
which have been unlblded to our view, tend to
throw upon this subject.

The foundation of the happiness of heavenly
intelligences being laid in the destruction of every
principle of moral evil, — in the enjoyment of
moral perfection — and in the removal of every
physical impediment to the exercise of their intel-
lectual powers — they will be fitted for the most
profound investigations, and for the most enlarged
contemplations. And one of their ciiief employ-
ments, of course, will be, to investigate, contem-
plate, and admire the glory of the divine perfec-
tions. Hence it is declared in Scripture as one
of the privileges of the saints in light, that " ihey
shall see God as he w" — that "they shall see liia
face" — and that "they shall behold his glory," —
which expressions, and others of similar import,
plainly intimate, that they shall enjoy a clearef
vision of the divine glory than in the present state.
But how is this vision to be obtained? The Deity,
being a spiritnal uncompounded substance, hav-
ing no visible form, nor sensible quantities. " in-
habiting eternity," and filling immensity wKn his
presence — his efsential glory cannot form an ob-

68

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

ject for the direct contemj''ation of any finite intel-
ligence His fflory, or, in other words, the gran-
deur of his perfections, can be traced only in the
external manifestation which he gives of himself
hi the material creation whi: h his power has
brought into existence — in the various orders of
iutelligMices witii which he has peoi)led it — and
in his moral dispensations toward a"l worlds and
beings which now exist, or may hereafter exist,
througiiout his boundless empire.

It is in this point of view, that our \rowledge
of the material universe assists our coi»crp1ions
of the scenes of a future state, and throws a .-eful-
genc^ of ligiit on the employments, and the nrin-
terrupted pleasures of the redeemed in heaven.
By the discoveries of modern science, in the dis-
tant re;;ions of space, we are fully assured, tha'
the attributes of the Deity have not been exercis-
ed solely in the construction of our sublunary
sphere, and of the aerial heavens with which it is
encompassed, nor his providential regards confin-
ed to the transactions of the frail beings that
dwell upon its surface, but extend to the remotest
spaces of the universe. We know, that far be-
yond the limits of our terrestrial abode, the Al-
mighty has displaj'ed his omnipotence in framing
worlds which, in magnitude, and in splendor of
accompaniments, far surpass this globe on which
we dwell. The eleven planetary bodies which, in
common with the earth, revolve about the sun,
contain a mass of matter two thousand five hun-
dred times greater, and an extent of surface suf-
ficient to support an assemblage of inhabitants
three hundred times more numerous than in the
world which we inhabit. The divine loisdom is
also displayed in reference to these vast globes, —
in directing their motions, so as to produce a di-
versity of seasons, and a regular succession of day
and niijht — in surroundiug some of them with
moons, and with luminous rings of a magnificent
size, to adorn their nocturnal heavens, and to re-
flect a mild radiance in the absence of the sun —
in encompassing them with atmospheres, and di-
versifying their surface with mountains and plains.
These and other arrangements, which indicate
special contrivance and design, show, that those
bodies are destined by the Creator to be the abodes
of intellectual beings, who partake of his bounty,
and oiFcr to him a tribute of adoration and praise.
Although ho other objects were presented to
our view, except those to which I now allude, and
which are contained witliin the limits of our
system, yet even here — within this small province
of the kingdom of Jehovah — a grand and diversi-
fied scene is displayed for the future contempla-
tion of heavenly intelligences. But it is a fact
which cannot be disputed, that the sun and all
his attendant planets form but a small speck in
the map of the universe. How great soever this
earth, with its vast continents and mighty oceans,
may appear to our eye, — how stupendous soever
the great globe of Jupiter, which would contain
within its bowels a thousand worlds as large as
ours — and overwhelming as the conception is that
the sun is more than a thousand times larger than
both, — yet, were they this moment detached from
their spheres, and blotted out of existence, there
tire worlds within the range of the Almighty's
empire where such an awful catastrophe would be
altogether unknown. Nay, were the whole cu-
bical space occupied by the solar system — a space
3,600,000,000 miles in diameter— to be formed
into a solid globe, containing 24,000,000,000,000,-
000,000,000,000,000 cubical miles, and overspread
with a brilliancy superior to that of the sun, to
continue during the space of a thousand years in

this splendid state, and then to be extinguished
and annihilated — tliere are beings, who reside in
spaces within the range of our telescopes, to whom
its creation and destniction would be equally un-
known: and to an eye which could take in the
whole compass of nature, it might be altogether
unheeded, or, at most, be regarded as the ajjpear-
ance and disappearance of a lucid point in an ob-
scure corner of the universe — just as the detach-
ment of a drop of water from the ocean, or a grain
of sand from the sea shore is unheeded by a com-
mon observer.

At immeasurable distances from our earth and
sj-stem immense assemblages of shining orbs dis-
play their radiance. The amazing extent of thai
space which intervenes between our habitation
and these resplendent globes, proves their im-
mense magnitude, and that they shine not with
hex. iwed but with native splendor. From what
we know of the wisdom and intelligence of the
divine Feiug, we may safely conclude, that he hfia
created n"-thing in vain; and consequently, that
these enorrcous globes of light were not dispersed
through the universe, merely as so many splendid
tapers to illuminate the voids of infinite spacew
To admit, for a moment, such a supposition,
would be incoDsU'tent with the marks of intelli-
gence and design which are displayed in all the
other scenes of nature which lie within the sphere
of our investigation. It wculd represent the Al-
mightj' as amusing himself with splendid toys, —
an idea altogether incompatible v\t\. the adorable
Majesty of heaven, and which wouH t?nd to lea-
sen our reverence of his character, as tSe onh
wise God. — If every part of nature in our subluna-
ry system is destined to some particular use U
reference to sentient beings — if even the mudd/
waters of a stagnant pool are replenished witk
myriads of inhabitants, should we for a monicL
doubt, that so many thousands of magnificen
globes have a relation to the accommodation anc
happiness of intelligent beings; since in ever)
part of the material system which lies open to oui
minute inspection, it appears, that matter exists
solely for the purpose of sentient and intelligent
creatures. As the Creator is consistent in all his
plans and operations, it is beyond dispute, that
those great globes which are suspended through-
out the vast spaces of the universe are destined to
some noble purposes worthy of the infinite power,
wisdom, and intelligence, which produced them.
And what may these purposes be? Since most
of these bodies are of a size equal, if not superior,
to our sun, and shine by their own native light,
we are led by analogy to conclude, that they are
destined to subserve a similar purpose in the sj's-
tem of nature — to pour a flood of radiance on sur-
rounding worlds, and to regulate their motions by
their attractive influence. So that each of these
luminaries rfiay be considered, not merely as a
world, but as the center of thirty, sixty, or a hun-
dred worlds, among which they distribute light,
and heat, and comfort*

If, now, we attend to the vast vumber of those
stupendous globes, we shall perceive what an ex-

* The Antlior will have an opportunity of illustr.itins thii
subject, in minute detail, in a work entitled, The sceicri/ of
the heavens dixplai/ed, w\th the view of proving and illus-
trating the doctrine of a plurality of worlds," in wliicli the
positions here assumed will be shown to hare the fort e of a
moral demonstration, on the same general principles by
which we prove the being of a God, and the immortality of
man. In this work, all the known facts in relation lo de-
scriptine astronomy, and the structure of the heavens, will
be particularly detailed, and accompanied with orijr'-ial re-
marks and moral and religious rellections, so as ^» form •
comprehensive compend of popular astronomy.

DIVERSITY OF SCENERY IN THE HEAVENS.

39

tensive field of sublime investigation lios open to
all the lioly intelligences tliat exist in creation.
When wo lift our eyes to the nocturnal sky, we
behold several hundreds of these majestic orbs, ar-
ranged in a kind of magnificent confusion, glim-
mering from afar on this obscure corner of the
Dniverse. But the number of stars, visible to the
vulgar eye, is extremely small, compared with the
number whicii has been descried by means of op-
tical instruments. In a small portion of the sky,
not larger than the apparent breadth of the moon,
a greater number of stars has been discovered
than the naked eye can discern throughout the
whole vault of heaven. In proportion as the
magnifying powers of the telescope are increased,
in a similar proportion do the stars increase upon
our view. They seem ranged behind one another
in boundless perspective, as far as the assisted eye
can reach, leaving us no room to doubt, that, were
the powers of our telescopes increased a thousand
times more than they now are, millions beyond
millions, in addition to what we now behold,
would start up before the astonished sight. Sir
William Herschel informs us, that, when viewing
a certain portion of the Milky Way, in the course
of seven minutes, more than fifty thousand stars
passed across the field of his telescope; — and it has
been calculated, that within the range of such an
instrument, applied to all the diflferent portions of
the firmament, more than eighty millions of stars
would be rendered visible.

Here, then, within the limits of that circle
which human vision has explored, the mind per-
ceives, not merely eighty millions of worlds, but,
at least tldrly times that number ; for every star,
considered as a sun,' may be conceived to be sur-
rounded by at least thirty planetary globes ;* so
that the visible system of the universe may be sta-
'^d, at the lowest computation, as comprehending
ii'ithin its vast circumference, 2,400,000,000 of
worlds ! This celestial scene presents an idea so
august and overwholming, that the mind is con-
founded, and shrinks back at the attempt of form-
ing any definite conception of a multitude and a
magnitude so far beyond the limits of its ordina-
ry excursions. If we can form no adequate idea
of the magnitude, the variety, and economy of
one world, how can we form a just conception of
tJvousands ? If a single million of objects of any de-
scription presents an image too vast and complex
to be taken in at one grasp, how shall we ever
attempt to comprehend an object so vast as two
thousand four hundred millions of worlds ! None
hut that Eternal Mind which counts the number
of the stars, which called them from nothing into
existence, and arranged them in the respective
stations they occupy, and whose eyes run to and
fro through the unlimited extent of creation — can
form a clear and comprehensive conception of the
number, the order, and the economy of this vast
portion of the sj'stem of nature.

But here, even the very feebleness and obscuri-
ty of our conceptions tend to throw a radiance on
the subject we are attempting to illustrate. The
magnitude and incomprehensibility of the object,
show us, how many diversified views of the divine
glory remain to be displayed ; what an infinite
Vpjiet) of sublime scenes may be afl:orded for the
iL.nd to expatiate upon; and what rapturous
trains of thought, ever various, and ever new,

* Tlie solar system consists of eleven primary and eigh-
teen seconiiary planets; in all twenty-nine, beside more
than a hnndred comets; and it is probable that several plan-
etary bodies exist within the limits of our system which have
not yet been discovered. Other systems may probably con-
tain a more numerous retinue of worlds, and perhaps of a
Ivger size than those belonging to the system of the sua.

may succeed each other without interruption,
throughout an uidimited duration.

Let us now endeavor to analyze some of the
objects presented to our mental .sight, in this vast
assemblage of systems and worlits, which" lift
within the sphere of human vi.sion.

The first iriea that suggests itself, is, that they
are all material structures — in the fonriation of
whieli, infiiiile wisdom and goodness have been
employed ; and consequently, t'ley must exhibit
scenes of sublimity and of exquisite contrivance
worthy of the contemplation of every rational
being. If this eartli, which is an abode of apos-
tate men, and a scene of moral depravity, and
which, here and there, has the appeararice of
being the ruins of a former world — presents the
variegated prospect of lofty mountains, romantic
dells, and fertile plains ; meandering rivers, trans-
parent lakes, and spacious oceans ; verdant land-
scapes, adorned with fruits and flowers, and a rich
variety of the finest colors, and a thousand other
beauties and suljlimities that are strewed over tlia
face of nature — how grand and magnificent a
scenery may we suppose, must be presented to
the view, in those worlds where moral evil has
never entered to derange the harmony of the Crea-
tor's works — where love to the Supreme, and to
one another, fires the bosoms of alU theii ijihabi-
tants, and produces a rapturous exultation, and an
incessant adoration of the Source of happiness !
In such worlds, we may justly conceive, that the
sensitive enjoyments, and the objects of beauty
and grandeur which are displayed to their view,
as far exceed the scenery and enjoyments of this
world, as their moral and intellectual qualities
excel those of the sons of men.

In the next place, it is highly reasonable to be-
lieve, that an infinite diversity of scenery exista
throughout all the worlds whicli compose the
universe ; that no one of all the millions of sys-
tems to which I have now adverted, exactly re-
sembles another in its construction, motions, order,
and decorations. There appear, indeed, to be i;er-
tain laws and phenomena which are common to
all the systems which exist within the linnts of
human vision. It is highly probable that the laws
of gravitation extend their influence through
every region of space occupied by material sub-
stances ; and, it is be/ond a doubt, that the phe-
nomena of vision, and the laws by which light is
reflected and refracted, exist in the remotest re-
gions which the telescope has explored. For
the light which radiates from the most distant
stars (as formerly stated) is found to be of the
same nature, to move with the same velocitj', to be
refracted by the same laws, and to exhibit the same
colors as the light which proceeds from the sun,
and is reflected from surrounding objects. The
medium of vision must, therefore, be acted upon,
and the organs of sight perform their functions,
in those distant regions, in the same manner as
takes place in the system of which we form a
part, or, at least, ina manner somewhat analogous
to it. And this circumstance shows, that the Crea-
tor evidently intended we should form some faint
iileas,at leaf;t, of the genera! piocedure of nature in
distant worlds, in order to direct our conceptions
of the sublime scenery of the universe, even
while we remain in this obscure corner of creation.
But, although the visible systems of the universe
appear to be connected by certain general princi-
ples and laws which operate throughout the whole,
yet the indefinite modifications which liiese laws
may receive in each particular system, may pro-
duce an almost infinite diversity of phenomena in
diiferent worlds, so that no one department of tha

70

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

material universe may resemble another. Nor is
it dilKciilt to conceive how sucli a diversity of
scenery iiiiy he produced. With regard to the
tcrraijii.'oiui ijlobe, — wore its axis to be shifted, so
as to poiat to a diti'i^rent quarter of the heavens,
or were the angle which it forms with tiie eclip-
♦.ic to be greater or less than it now is, the general
appearance of th;' lirmameut would be changed,
the apparent motions of the sun and stars, the
days and nights, the seasons of the year, and an
immensii variety of phenomena in the earth and
heavens V'ould assume a very diiferent aspect from
what tliL'y now wear. Were the component parts
of the atmosphere materially altered, were its re-
fractive power much increased, or were a greater
portion of caloric or of electricity introducoil into
it3 constitution, the objects which diversify the
landscape of tiie earth, and the luminaries of hea-
ven, would assume such a variety of new and un-
common appearances, as would warrant the appli-
cation of the Scripture expression, "a new heaven
and a new eartii." It is, therefore, easy to con-
ceive, that, when infinite power and wisdom are
exerted for this purpose, every globe in t!ie uni-
verse, with its appendages, may be constructed
and arranged in such a manner as to presuit a
variety of beauties and sublimities peculiar to
itself.

That tlie Creator has actually produced this ef-
fect, is rendered in the highest degree probable,
from the infinite variety presented to our view in
those departments of nature which lie open to our
particular investigation. In the animal kingdom
we find more than a hundred thousand diffiirent
speci-'s of living creatures, and about the same
variety in the productions of vegetable nature; the
tnfnerflikingdom presents to us an immense varie-
ty of eartlis, stones, rocks, metals, fossils, gems,
and precious stones, which are strewed in rich
profusion along the surface, and throughout the
interior parts of the globe. Of the individuals
which compose every distinct species of animated
beings, there is no one which bears an exact re-
semblance to another. Although the eight hun-
dred millions of men that now people the globe,
and all the other millions that have existed since
the world began, were to be compared, no two
individuals would be found to present exactly tlie
same aspect in evjry point of view in which they
might be contemplated. In like manner, no two
horses, cows, dogs, lions, elephants, or other ter-
restrial animals will be found bearing a perfect
resemblance. The same observation will apply to
the scenery of lakes, rivers, grottos, and moun-
tains, and to all the diversified landscapes which
the surface of the earth and waters pre.sents to the
traveler, and the student of nature.

If, from the earth, we direct our views to the
other bodies which compose our planetary system,
we shall find a similar diversity, so far as our ob-
servations extend. From the surface of one of
the planets, the sun will appear seven times larger,
and from the surface of another, three hundred
and sixty tim^s smaller than he does to us. One
of those bodies is destitute of a moon; but from
its ruddy aspect, either its surface or its atmo-
sphere appears to be endowed with a phosphores-
cent quality, to supply it with light in the ab-
sence of tlie sun. Another is surrounded by /o«r
resplendent moons, much larger than ours; a third
is supplied with six, and a fourth, with seven
moons, and two magnificent rings to reflect th"
light of the sun, and diversify the sceneiy of its
sky. One of thes? glob's revolves round its axis
in ten, and anotlier in twenty-three hours andahalf.
One of them revolves round the sun, in eighty-

eight, another in two hundred and twenty-fouf
days; a tiiird in twelve years, a fourth in thirty,
and a fifth in eigiity-two years. From all which,
and many other circumstances that have besn ob-
SL'rved, an admirable variety oi phenomena is pro-
duced, of which each planetary globe has its
own peculiarity. Even our moon, which is
among the smallest of the celestial bodies, which
is the nearest to us, and which accompanies
the earth during its revolution round the sun,
exhiints a curious variety of aspect, differ-
ent from what is found on the terraqueous
globe. The altitude of its mountains, the depths
of its vales, the conical form of its insulated rocks,
the circular ridges of hills which encompass its
plains, and the celestial phenomena which are dis-
played in its fimiament — present a scenery which
though in some points resembling our owji, is yet
remarkably different, or the whole, from the gen-
eral aspect of nature ai lur terrestrial habita-
tion.

If, therefore, the Autnor of nature act on the
same general principles, in other systems, as ht
has done in ours — which there is every reason tc
believe, when we consider his infinite wisdom
and intelligence — we may rest assured, that every
one of the two thousand four hundred millions of
worlds which are comprehended within the range
of human vision, has a magnificence and glory pe-
culiar to itself, by which it is distinguished from al)
the surrounding provinces of Jehovah's empire.
In this view, we may consider the language of
the Apostle Paul as expressing not only an appa'
rent, but a real fact. " There is one glory of the
sun, and another glory of the moon, and another
glory of the stars; for one star differeth from an-
other star in glory." To suppose that the Almighty
has exhausted his omnipotent energies, and exhibi-
ted all the manifestations of his glory which his
perfections can produce, in one system, or even
in one million of systems, would be to set limits to
the resources of his wisdom and intelligence, which
are infinite and incomprehensible. Hence we find
the sacred writers, when contemplating the nu-
merous objects which .creation exhibits, breaking
out into such exclamations as these, "How mani-
fold, O Jehovah, are thj' works ! In wisdom hast
thou made them all."

In the next place, — Beside the magnificence
and variety of the material structures which exist
throughout the universe, the organized and intelli-
gent beings with which they are peopled, present a
vast field of delightful contemplation. On this
general topic, the following ideas may be taken
into consideration: —

1. The gradations of intellect or the various or-
ders of intelligences which may people the uni-
versal system. That there is a vast diversity in
the scale of intellectual existence, may be proved
by considerations similar to those which I have
already stated. Among sentient beings, in this
world, we find a regular gradation of intellect,
from the muscle, through all the orders of the
aquatic and insect tribes, until we arrive at the
dog. the monkey, the beaver and the elephant,
and last of all, to man, who stands at the top of
the intellectual scale, as the lord of this lower
world. We perceive, too, in the indiviiuals which
compose the human species, a wonderful diversity
in their powers and capacities of intellect, arising
partly from their original constitution of mind,
partly from the conformation of their corporeal
organs, and partly from the degree of cultivation
they have received. But it would be highly un-
reasonable to admit, that the most accomplished
genius that ever adorned our race, was placed at

FACULTIES 01? SUPERIOR BEINGS

71

the summit of intellectual perfcctioa. Ou the
other hand, we have reason to believe, that man,
with all his noble powers, stands nearly at the
bottom of the scale of the intelligent creation.
For a being much inferior to man, in the powers
of abstraction, conception, and reasoning, could
scarcely be denominated a rational creature, or
■uppoiicd capable of being qualified for the high
destination to which man is appointed. As to
the number of species which diversify the ranks
of superior intellectual natures, and the degrees
of perfection which distinguish their different or-
ders, we have no data, afforded by the contempla-
f.on of the visible universe, sufficient to enable
us to form a definite conception. The intellec-
tual faculties, even of finite beings, may be
carried to so high a pitch of perfection, as to
baffle all our conceptions and powers of descrip-
tion.— The following description in the words of
a celebrated Swiss naturalist, may perhaps con-
vey some faint idea of the powers of some of the
highest order of intelligences: —

"To convey one's self from one place to an-
other with a swiftness equal or superior to that of
light; to preserve one's self by the mere force of
nature, and without the assistance of any other
created being; to be absolutely exempted from
every kind of change; to be endowed with the
most e.\quisite and extensive senses; to have dis-
tinct perceptions of all the attributes of matter,
and of all its modifications; to discover effects in
their causes ; to raise one's self by a most rapid
flight to the most general principles; to see in the
twinkling of an eye these principles; — to have at
the same time, without confusion, an almost infi-
nite number of ideas; to see the past as distinctly
as the present, and to penetrate into the remotest
futurity; to be able to exercise all these faculties
(irithout weariness: these are the various outlines
from which we may draw a portrait of the per-
fections of superior natures."*

A being possessed of faculties such as these, is
raised as far above the limited powers of man,
as man is raised above the insect tribes. The
Scriptures assure us, that beings, approximating,
in their powers and perfections, to those now
stated, actually exist, and perform important of-
fices under the government of the Almighty.
The perfections of the angelic tribes, as repre-
sented in Scripture, are incomparably superior to
those of men. They are represented as possessed
of powers capable of enabling them to wing
their flight with amazing rapidity from world to
world. For the angel Gabriel, being commanded
to fly swiftly, while the prophet Daniel was en-
gaged in supplication, approached to him, before
he had made an end of presenting his requests.
During the few minutes employed in uttering his
prayer, this angelic messenger descended from
the celestial regions to the country of Babylonia.
This was a rapidity of motion surpassing the
comprehension of the nnost vigorous imagination,
and far exceeding even the amazing velocity of
li^ht. — They have power over the objects of in-
animate nature; for one of them " rolled away
th; stone from the door of the sepulchre," at the
time of Christ's resurrection. They are inti-
mately acquainted with the springs of life, and
tho avenues by which they may be interrupted;

• This writer, in addition to these, states the following
properties : — " To be invested with a power capable of dis-
placing the lieavenly bodies, or of changing the course of
nature, and to he possessed of a power and sliill capable of
organizing matter, of forming a plant, an animal, a world." —
But I can scarcely think that such perfections are competent
I* any being but the Supreme.

Vol. I.— 15

for an angel slew, in one night, 185,000 of tha
Assyrian army. — They are perfectly acquainted
with all the relations which subsist among man-
kind, and can distinguish the age and clmracter
of every individtial throughout all the families
of the earth. For one of these powerful beings
recognized all the first-born in the land of Egypt,
distinguished the Egyptians from the children of
Israel, and exerted his powers in their destruction.
And as they are " ministering spirits to the heirs
of salvation," they must liave a clear perception
of the persons and characters of those who -ire the
objects of the Divine favor, and to when. £]iey aro
occasionally sent on embassies of mercy. — They
are endowed with great physical powers and ener-
gies ; hence they are said "to excel in strength:''^
and the phrase, "a strow^ angel," and "a mi^/tiz/
angel," which are sometimes applied to them, are
expressive of the same perfection. Hence they
are represented, in the book of the Revelation, as
" holding the four winds of heaven," as executing
the judgments of God upon the proud despisers
of his government, as " throwing mountains into
the sea," and binding the prince of darkness with
chains, and " casting him into the bottomless
pit."

They are endowed with unfading and immor-
tal youth, and experience no decay in the vigor
of their powers. For the angels who appeared to
Mary at the tomb of our Saviour appeared as
young men, though they were then more than
four thousand years old. During the long suc-
cession of ages that had passed since their crea-
tion, their vigor and animation had suffered no
diminution, nor decay, — they are possessed of
vast powers of intelligence. Hence they aro ex-
hibited in the book of Revelation, as being "full
of eyes," that is, endowed with "ail sense, all
intellect, all consciousness; turning their atten-
tion every way; beholding at once all things
within the reach of their understandings ; and
discerning them with the utmost clearness of
conception." The various other qualities now
stated, necessarily suppose a vast comprehension
of intellect; and the place of their residence, and
the offices in which they have been eiuployed,
have afforded full scope to their superior powers.
They dwell in a world where truth reigns trium-
phant, where moral evil has never entered, whera
substantial knowledge irradiates the mind of
every inhabitant, where the mysteries which
involve the character of the Eternal are continu-
ally disclosing, and where the plans of his provi-
dence are rapidly unfolded. They have ranged
through the innumerable regions of the heavens,
and visited distant worlds, for thousands of years;
they have beheld the unceasing variety, and the
endless multitude of the works of creation and
providence, and are, doubtless, enabled to com-
pare systems of worlds, with more accuracy and
comprehension than we are capable of survey-
ing villages, cities and provinces. Thus, their
original powers and capacities have been ex-
panded, and their vigor and activity strengthened,
and, consequently, in the progress of duration
their acquisitions of wisdom and knowledge must
indefinitely surpass everything that the mind cf
man can conceive. — We have likewise certain
intimations, that, among these celestial beings,
there are gradations of nature and of office; since
there are among them, " seraphim and cherubim,
archangels, thrones, dominions, principalities and
powers," which designations are evidently ex-
pressive of their respective endowments, of the
stations they occupy, and of the employments for
which they are qualified.

72

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

Hence it appears, that altliougli wo know but
little in tlic moaatiine of tlie nature of tluit diver-
Bity of iiik'lloct wliieli prevails auioiinr the higher
ordere of created bein<rs — tlie inliuuitious given
in the sacred volume, and the general analogy of
nature, lead us to form the most exalted ideas of
tliat amazing progression and variety which reign
tliroughout tlie intellectual universe.

2. Not only is there a gradation of intellect
among sup -rior beings, but it is highly probable,
that a similar gradation or variety obtains, in the
form, the organization, and the movements of
their corporeal vehicles.

The human form especially in the vigor of
youtii, is the most beautiful and symmetrical of
all the forms of organized beings witli which
we are acquainted; and, in these respects, may
probably bear some analogy to the organical
structures of other intelligences. But, in other
worlds, there may exist an indefinite variety, as
to the general form of the body or vehicle with
which their inhabitants are invested, the size, the
number, and quality of their organs, the functions
tliey perform, the splendor and beauty of their
aspect, and particularly, in the number and per-
fection of their senses. Though there are more
than a hundred thousand species of sensitive be-
ings, which traverse the earth, the waters, and
the air, yet they all exhibit a marked difFcrenco
in their corporeal forms and organization. Quad-
rupeds exhibit a very different structure from
fishes, and birds from reptiles; and every distinct
species of quadrupeds, birds, fishes, and insects,
differs from another in its conformation and func-
tions. It is highly probable, that a similar variety
exists, in regard to the corporeal vehicles of su-
perior intelligences — accommodated to the regions
in which they respectively reside, the functions
they have to perform, and the employments in
which they are engaged; and this we find to be
actually the case, so far as our information ex-
tends. When any of the angelic tribes were
sent on embassies to our world, we find, that,
though they generally appeared in a shape some-
what resembling a beautiful human form, yet,
in every instance, there appeared a marked dif-
ference between them and human beings. The
angel who appeared at the tomb of our Saviour,
exhibited a bright and resplendent form: " His
countenance was like the brightness of lightning,
and his raiment as white as snow," glittering with
an extraordinary luster beyond what mortal eyes
could bear. The angel who delivered Peter from
the prison to which he had been confined by the
tyranny of Herod, was arrayed in such splendor,
that a glorious light shone through the whole
apartment where the apostle was bound, dark and
gloomy as it was. That these beings have organs
of speech, capable of forming articulate sounds
and of joining in musical strains, appears from
the words they uttered on these and other occa-
sions, and from the song they sung in the plains
of Bethlehem, when they announced the birth of
the Saviour. They appear to possess the property
of rendering themselves invisible at pleasure ; for
the angel that appeared to Zacharias in the sanc-
tuary of the temple, was invisible to the surround-
ing multitudes without, both at the time of his
entrance into, and his exit from, the "holy place."*

In particular, there is every reason to conclude,
that there is a wonderful variety in the number,
and acuteness of their organs of sensation. We
find a considerable variety, in these respects,
among the sensitive beings which inhabit our
globe. Some animals appear to have only ont
sense, as the muscle, and the zonjihi/tes ; many liavs
but two senses; some have three; and man, tlie
most perfect animal, has only five. These sensea,
too, in different species, differ very considerably,
in point of vigor and acuteness. The dog haa a
keener scent, the stag a quicker perception of
sounds, and the eagle and the lynx more acuta
visual organs than mankind. The same diversity
is observable in the form and the number of sen-
sitive organs, in man, the ear is short and erect.

• To what is stated in this paragraph respecting angels,
it will doubtless be objected, " that these intelligences are
pure spirits, and assume corporeal forms only on particular
occasions." This is an opinion almost nniversally preva-
lent ; but it is a mere assumption, destitute of any rational
or scriptural argument to substantiate its truth. There is no
passage in Scripture, with which I am acquainted, that

makes such an assertion. The passage in Psalm civ. 4,
" Who maketli his angels spirits, and his ministers a flam-
ing fire," has iVenuently been quoted for this purpose ; but
it has no reference to any opinion that may be formed on
this point ; as the passage should be rendered, " Who
maketh the winds his messengers, and a Haming fire his
ministers." Even although the passage were taken as it
stands in our translation, and considered as referring.to the
angels, it would not prove, that they are pure immaterial
substances ; for, while tliey are designated spirits, which is
equally applicable to men as well as to angels — they aro
also said to be " a flaming fire," which is amtitcrial sub-
stance. This passage seems to have no particular reference
to cither opinion ; hut, if considered as expressing the attri-
butes of angels, its meaning plainly is, — that they are
endowed with tcoiulcrful activitii — that they move with the
swiftness of the winds, and operate with the force and en-
ergy of flaming fire ; — or, in other words, that He, in whose
service they are, and who directs their movements, emjdoys
them " with the strength of winds, and the rapidity of
lightning."

In every instance in which angels have been sent on em-
bassies to mankind, they have displayed sensible qualifies.
They exhibited a dffinil e form somewhat analogous to that
of man, and color and splendor, which were perceptible by
the organs of vision — they emitted sounds which struck
the organ of hearing — they produced the harmonies of
music, and sung sublime sentiments which were uttered in
articulate words, that were distinctly heard and recognized
by the persons to whom they were sent, Luke ii. 14, — and
they exerted their power over the seme of feeling ; for the
angel who appeared to Peter in the prison, " smote him on
the side, and raised him up." In the|e instances, angels
manifested themselves to men, through the medium of
three principal senses by which we recognize the properties
of material objects; and why, then, should we consider
them as purely immaterial substances, having no connec-
tion with the visible universe ? We have no knowledge of
angels but from revelation ; and all the descriptions it gives
of these beings leaves us to conclude, that they are con-
nected with the world of matter, as well as with the world
of mind, and are furnished with organical vehicles, com-
posed of some refined material substance suitable to theii
nature and employments.

When Christ shall appear the second time, we are told
that he is to come, not only in the glory of his Father, but
also in " the clory of his holy angels," who will minister ta
him and increase the splendor of his appearance. Now,
the glory which the angels "will display, must be visible,
and, consequently, material ; otherwise it could not be
contemplated by the assembled inhabitants of our world,
and could present no glory or luster to their view. An
assemblage of purely spiritual beings, however numerous
and however exalted in point of intelligence, would be a
mere inanitv, in a scene intended to exhibit a visible dis-
play of the divine supremacy and grandenr. — The vehicles or
bodies of angels are doubtless of a much finer mold than
the bodies of men ; but, although they were at all time*
invisible through such organs of vision as we possess, it
would form no proof that they were destitute of such cor-
poreal frames. The air we breathe is a material substance,
yet it is invisible; and there are substances whose larity is
more than ten times greater than that of the air of our
atmosphere. Hydrogen gas is more than twelve timet
lighter than common atmospheric air. If, therefore, aa
organized body were formed of a material substance simdaf
to air, or to hydrogen gas, it wonld in general be invisible ;
but, in certain circumstances, might reflect the rays of
light, and become visible, as certain of the lighter gaseoas
bodies are found to do. This is, in some measure, exempli-
fied in the case of animalcule, whose bodies are impercep-
tible to the naked eye, and yet, are regularly organized ma-
terial substances, endowed with all tlie functions leouisit*
to life, motion, and enjoyment.

SENSES OF SUPERIOR BEINGS.

73

i

and scarcely susceptible of motion; in the horse
and tho ass, it is long and flexible; and in the
mole, it consists simply of a hole which perforates
the skull. Ill man there are two eyes; in the
ecorpiou and spider, eigld; and in a fly, more
tlMin_/i«e ihousand.

Tliat superior beings, connected with other
Horlds, have additional senses to those which we
possess, is highly probable, especially when we
consider the general analogy of nature, and the
gradations which exist among organized beings
in our world. It forms no reason why we should
deny that such senses exist, because we ciu form
no distinct conceptions of any senses beside tIio.se
which we possess. If we had been deprived of the
senses of sp/ht and hearing, and left to derive all
our information merely tlirough the medium of
feeling, tasting and smelling, we could have had
no more conception of articulate language, of
musical harmony and melody, of the beauties of
the earth, and of the glories of the sky, than a
muscle, a vegetable, or a stone. To limit the
number of sehses which intelligent organized
beings may possess to the five which have been
bestowed upon man, would be to set bounds to
the infinite wisdom and skill of the Creator, who,
in all his works, has displayed an endless variety
in the manner of accomplishing his designs.
While, in the terrestrial sphere in which we move,
our views are limited to the external aspects of
plants and animals — organized beings, in other
spheres, may have the faculty of penetrating into
their internal (and to us, invisible) movements —
of tracing an animal from its embryo state,
through all its gradations and evolutions, until it
arrive at maturity — of perceiving, at a glance, and,
as it were, through a transpareait medium, tiie in-
terior structure of an animal, the complicated
movements of its curious machinery, the mi-
nute and diversified ramifications of its vessels,
and the mode in which its several functions are
performed — of discerning the fine and delicate
machinery which enters into the construction, and
produces the various motions of a microscopic
animalculum, and the curious vessels, and the cir-
culation of juices which exist in the body of a
plant — of tracing the secret processes which are
going on in the mineral kingdom, and the opera-
tion of chemical affinities among the minute par-
ticles of matter, which produce the diversified
phenomena of the universe. And, in fine, those
senses which the inhabitants of other worlds en-
joy in common with us, may be possessed by
them in a state of greater acuteness and perfection.
While our visual organs can perceive objects dis-
tinctly, only within the limits of a few yards or
miles around us, their organs may be so modified
and adjusted, as to enable them to perceive objects
with the same distinctness, at the distance of a
hundred miles — or even to descry the scenery of
distant worlds. If our powers of vision had been
confined within the range to which a worm or a
mite is circumscribed, we could have formed no
conception of the amplitude of our present range
of view; and it is by no means improbable, that
organized beings exist, whose extent of vision as
far exceeds ours, as ours exceeds that of the small-
est insect and that they may be able to perceive
the diversified landscapes which exist in other
worlds, and the movements of their inhabitants,
as distinctly as we perceive the objects on the
opposite side of a river, or of a narrow arm of
the sea.

After Stephen had delivered his defense before
the Sanhedrim, we are told "he looked up stead-
fastly into ^'a'ven, and saw the glory of God, and

Jesus standing at the right hand of God; and said.
Behold I sec tho heavens opened, and the Son of
man standing on the right hand of God." Soma
have supposed that the eyes of Stephen, on this
occasion were so modified or strengthened, that he
was enabled to penetrate into that particular region
where the glorified body of Christ more immedi-
ately resides. But whether this opinion be tenable
or not, certain it is, that angels are endowed with
senses or faculties which enable them to take a
minute survey of the solar system, and of the
greater part of our globe, even when at a vast dis-
tance from our terrestrial sphere; otherwise, they
could not distinguish the particular position of our
earth in its annual course around the sun, in their
descent from more distant regions, nor diiect their
course to that particular country, city, or village,
whither they are sent on any special embassy.

What has been now said in reference to the or-
gans of vision, is equally applicable to the organs
oi hearing, and to several of the other senses; and
since faculties or senses, such as those I have now
supposed, would tend to unvail more extensively
the wonderful operations of the Almighty, and to
excite incessant admiration of his wisdom and
beneficence, it is reasonable to believe that he has
bestowed them on various orders of his creatures
for this purpose — and that man may be endowed
with similar senses, when he arrives at moral
perfection, and is placed in a higher sphere of ex-
istence.

Beside the topics to which I have now adverted,
namely, the gradation of intellect, and the diver-
sity of corporeal organization — a still more am-
ple and interesting field of contemplation will be
opened in the history of the numerous worlds dis^
pcrsed througJiout the universe, — including the
grand and delightful, or the awful and disastrous
events which have taken place in the several re»
gions of intellectual existence.

The particulars under this head which may be
supposed to gratify the enlightened curiosity of
holy intelligences, are such as the following: — the
different periods m duration at which the various
habitable globes emerged from nothing into exis-
tence— the changes and previous arrangements
through which they passed before they were re-
plenished with inhabitants — the distinguishing cAar-
acteristic features of every species of intellectual
beings — their modes of existence, of improvement,
and of social intercourse — the solemn forms of
worship and arloration that prevail among them —
the laws of social and of moral order peculiar to
each province of the divine empire* — the progress

* Tliere are certain <;eneral laws wliicli are common to all
the orders of intellectual beings throughout the universe.
The two principles which form the basis of our moral lata
are of this nature: — "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with
all thine heart, and with all thine understanding," and
"thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." For we can-
not suppose the Deity, in consistency with the sanctity
and rectitude of his nature, to reverse these laws, in
relation to any class of intelligences, or to exempt them
from an obligation to. obey them; and, theretbre, they
may be considered as the two grand moral principles
which direct the affections and conduct of all holy beings
Ihroughont the immensity of God's empire, and which unite
them to one another, and to their common Creator. But, ia
subordination to these principles or laws, there may be a va-
riety of special moral laws, adaj>ted to the peculiar economy,
circumstances, and relations which exist in each distinct
world. As we have certain special laws, in onr moral code,
such as thefift/i andseventk precepts of the Decalogue, which,
in all probability, do not apply to the inhabitants of soma
other worlds, so they may have various specific regulations
or laws, which cannot apply to us in our present state. Th»
reader will find a particular illustration of the two fundamen-
tal laws to which I have now adverted, and of their applica-
tion to the inhabitants of all worlds, in a work which I late-
ly published, entitled, "The Philosopliy of Religion; or, aa
lUustratioaof the Moral Laws oftlie Universe."'

74

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

they have made in Icnowledije, and the discoveries
they hiive brought to light, respecting the works
and tlie ways of God — the peculiar miinifcs-
tations of himself which the Divine being may
liave mude to theni, "at sundry times and in di-
vers manners" — the most remarkable civil, and
moral events which have happiMied since the perioii
of their creation — the visihle embleins of the Divine
Presence and glory which are displayed before
thorn — the information they have obtained respect-
ing the transactions and the moral government of
other icorlds — the various stages of improvement
through which they are a|)pointed to pass — the
difForent regions of the universe to which they
may be transported, and the final destination to
which they are appointed.

In particular, the facts connected with their
moral history, in so far as they may be unfolded,
will form an interesting subject of discourse and
of contemplation. It is highly probable, when
we consider the general benignity of the Divine
Nature, and the numerous evidences of it which
appear throughout the whole kingdorn of animated
nature — that the inhabitants of the greatest por-
tion of the universal system, have retained the
moral rectitude in which they were created, and
are-, consequently, in a state of perfect happiness.
But, since we know, from painful experience,
that one world has swerved from its allegiance to
the Creator, and been plunged into the depths of
physical and moral evil, it is not at all improba-
ble, that the inhabitants of several other worlds
have be»n permitted to fall into a similar calami-
ty,— for this purpose among others — that the im-
portance of moral order might be demonstrated,
that the awful consequences of a violation of the
eternal laws of heaven might be clearly manifest-
ed, and that a field might be laid open for the
display of the rectitude and mercy of God as the
moral Governor of the universe. In reference to
euch cases (if any exist) the points of inquiry
would naturally be — What is the uhimate desti-
nation of those beings who, in other regions of
creation, have acted the part of rebellious man?
Has their Creator interposed for their deliverance
in a manner analogous to that in which he has
accomplished the redemption of mankind? If so,
wherein do such schemes of mercy differ, and
wherein do they agree with the plan of salvation
by Jesus Christ? What scenes of moral evil have
been displayed, and hovi' have the moral disorders
in those 'worlds been overruled and counteracted
by the providential dispensations of the Almighty?
Here, a thousand questions would crowd upon the
mind, a variety of emotions of opposite kinds
would be excited, and a most interesting field of
investigation would be laid open to the contempla-
tion of the redeemed inhabitants of such a world
as ours. And, it is easy to conceive, with what
kindred emotions and sympathetic feelings, and
with what transporting gratulations, the renovated
inhabitants of such worlds would recognize each
other, should they ever be brought into contact,
and permitted to mingle their ascriptions of praise
to the Creator and Redeemer of worlds.

Even in those worlds where the inhabitants
have retained their primeval innocence, there may
be an almost infinite variety in the divine dispen-
sations, both in a moral, and intellectual point of
view. — As finite intelligences, from their very na-
ture, are progressive beings, and, therefore, cannot
be supposed to acquire all the treasures of wisdom
and knowledge, and to comprehend all the multi-
farious displays of divine perfection, during the
first stages of their existence — there may be an
admirable diversity of modes, corresponding to

their peculiar circumstances and stages of im
provement, by which the Creator may graduall}!
unfold "te them the glory of his nature, and enable
them to take a more extensive survey of the mag-
nitude and orilor of his dominions. Some may be
only emerging from the first principles of science,
like Adam soon after his creation, and may have
arrived but a few degrees beyond the sphere of
knowledge which bounds the view of man; others
may have arrived at a point where they can take
a more expansive survey of the order, economy,
and relations of material and intellectual existen-
ces,— while others after having contemplated, for
ages, a wide extent of creation, in one district of
the empire of God, maybe transported to a new
and a distant province of the universe, to contem-
pliite the perfections of Deity in another point of
view, and to investigate and admire a new scene of
vvonders. — If every individual of the human race,
from his birth to his death, passes through a train
of providences peculiar to himself, it appears at least
highly probable, reasoning from the analogies to
which we have already adverted, and to form the
variety that everywhere appears in the natural
and moral world, that the divine dispensations to-
ward every distinct class of intelligent beings,
have some striking peculiarities, which do not
exactly coincide witli those of any other.

That some portion, at least, of the natural and
moral history of other worlds will be laid open to
the inspection of redeemed men in the future world,
may be argued from this consideration, — that such
views will tend Zo unfold the moral character of the
Deity, and to display more fully his intelligence,
wisdom, and rectitude, in the diversified modes of
his administration, as theGovernor of the universe.
We have reason to believe that the material crea-
tion exists solely for the sake of sentient and in-
telligent beings; and that it has been arranged into
distijict departments, and peopled with various
ranks of intellectual natures, chiefiy for the pur-
pose of giving a display of the moral attributes of
God, and of demonstrating the indispensable nc»
cessity and the eternal obligation of the moral
laws he has enacted, in order to secure the happi-
ness of the whole intelligent system. And, if so
we may reasonably conclude, that a certain por-
tion of the divine dispensations toward other
classes of the intelligent creation, will ultimately
be displayed to our view. — This position may like-
wise be argued from the fact that other intelli-
gences have been made acquainted with the af-
fairs of our world, and the tenor of the dispensa-
tions of God toward our race. The angelic tribes
have been frequently sent on embassies to our
terrestrial sphere. On such occasions they have
indicated an intimate acquaintance with the most
interesting transactions which have taken place
among ns; and we are informed, that they still
"desire to pry into" the scheme of redemption,
and "to learn" from the divine dispensations to-
ward the church "the manifold wisdom of God."*
Some notices of the history, the employments,
and the destination, of these celestial beings, have
likewise been conveyed to us. We know that
they hold an elevated station in the kingdom of
Providence; that they are possessed of great pc w-
er and wisdom, of wonderful activity, of supeiioi
intellectual faculties, and of consummate holinesf
and rectitude of nature; that they are employed
on certain occasions as embassadors from 'God to
man, in executing his judgments upon the wicked^
and ministering to the heirs of salvation; and
that a certain number of them fell from the high

* See Ephes. iii. 10. 1 Petei. i. 12.

MORAL HISTORY OF OTHER WORLDS.

75

i

ttatiou in which they were originally placed, and
plunged themselves into a state of sin and pcrdi-
•tiou. We have therefore reason to believe, that it is
one part of the pku of the government of God to
disclose the history of one species of intellec-
tual heings to another, in such portions, and at
Buch seasons, as may seem most proper to Infinite
Wisdom, and best suited to tlie state and charac-
ter, and the gradual improvement of his iutelli-
geut offspring.

In conformity to what has been now advanced,
we find the saints in heaven rejiresented as uttering
a song of praise to God, in consequence of the
survey they had taken of his moral administration,
and of the admiration it excited. "They sing the
scng of Moses, and the song of the Lamb, saying.
Just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints."
And, in proportion as the dispensations of Provi-
dence, toward other worlds are unfolded, in the
same proportion will their views of Jehovah's
"eternal righteousness" be expanded, and a new
note of admiration and rapture added to their song
of praise. — The knowledge of the saints in heaven
is represented as being very accurate and com-
prehensive. Hence it is declared, that, in that
state of perfection, "they shall know, even as also
they are known." This expression certainly de-
notes a very high degree of knowledge respecting
the works and the ways of God; and, therefore,
most commentators explain it as consisting in
such an intuitive and comprehensive knowledge
"as shall bear some fair resemblance to that of the
Divine Being, which penetrates to the very cen-
ter of every object, and sees through the soul, and
all things, as at one single glance;" or, at least,
that "their knowledge of heavenly objects shall
be as certain, immediate and familiar, as any of
(heir immediate friends and acquaintances now
have of them."* And, if such interpretations be
admitted, this knowledge must include a minute
and comprehensive view of the dispensations of
the Creator toward other worlds, and other orders
of moral and intelligent agents.

In regard to the manner in which information
respecting the structure, the i.:habitants, and the
history of other worlds may be communicated,
our limited knowledge affords no certain data on
which to ground a definite opinion. We may,
however, reasonably suppose, that an intercourse
and correspondence will be occasionally opened
up, by means of celestial beings endowed with
faculties of rapid motion, who may communicate
particular details of the intelligence they acquire
in the regions they are accustomed to visit. Such
correspondence has already partially taken place
in our world, by means of tliose beings termed,
in Scripture, "the angels," or "the messengers of
Jehovah;" and, it is highly probable, liad man
continued in his state of original integrity, that
such angelic embassies would have been much
more frequent than they have ever been; and we
might have been made acquainted, in this way,
with some outlines of the physical and moral
scenery of other worlds, particularly of those
which belong to our own system — of which we
must now be contented to remain in ignorance;
•nd must have recourse to the aids of reason, and
BCience, aud observation, in order to trace some
verj' general outlines of their physical economy.
Tliis is, doubtless, one deplorable effect, among
others, of the apostasy of man — that intelligences
endowed with moral perfection can no longer hold
familiar intercourse with the race of Adam, but
in so far as they are employed by their Creator in

• See Doddridge's and Gnyse's paraphrase on 1 Cor.
Xiii. 12. .

communicating occasional messages, which havo
a respect merely to their moral renovation.* — We
may likewise, 'with some degree of probability
suppose, that every distinct order of holy intelli-
gences, after having resided for a certain number
of ages, in one region of tiie universe, may be
conveyed to another province of creation, to in-
vestigate the new scenes of wisdom and omnipo-
tence there unfolded, — and so on, in a continued
series of transportations, throughout the ages of
eternity. We know that man is destined to un-
dergo such a change of locality; and although sin
has made the passage from one world to another,
assume a gloomy and alarming aspect, it may
nevertheless be an example (though in a different
manner), of those removals which take place with
respect to other beings, from one province of crea-
tion to another. Nor have we any reason to be-
lieve, that the locality in which we shall be placed
after the general resurrection, will form our per-
manent and everlasting abode; otherwise, we
should be eternally chained down, as we are at
present, to a small corner of creation.

In regard to the redeemed inhabitants of our
world, there is every reason to believe, that the
Redeemer himself, he, " in whom dwell all tha
treasures of wisdom and knowledge," will be one
grand medium through which information will bo
communicated respecting the distant glories of
Jehovah's empire. This seems to be directly
intimated, though in metaphorical language, in
the following passage from the book of Revela-
tion: "The Lamb who is in the midst of the
throne shall feed them, and- shall lead them to
fountains of living water." Knowledge is the
food of the mind ; and in this sense the term is
frequently applied in the Scriptures: — "I will
give them pastors (saith God) after mine own
heart, who shall feed them with knowledge and
understanding. " " Feed the church of God,"
says the apostle Peter; that is, instruct them in
the knowledge of the truths of religion. There-
fore, by imparting to his saints a knowledge of
the plans asd operations of God, and information
rcspectirwg the magnificence of his works in the
regions around, "the Lamb in the midst of the
throne tvill feed them," by gratifying their intel-
lectual powers, and their desires after knowledge;
and the noble and transporting trains of thought
which such discoveries will inspire ( and which
may be aptly compared to the effect produced by
" fountains of living water" on a parclied trav-
eler), will arrest ail the faculties of their souls, and
fili them " with joy unspeakable and full of glory."

Perhaps, it may not be beyond the bounds of
probability fo suppose, that, at certain seasons,
during a grand convocation of the redeemed with
Jesus their exalted head president among them —
that glorious personage may impart to them
knowledge of the most exalted kind, direct their
views to some bright manifestations of Deity, and
deliver most interesting lectures on the works and
the ways of God. This would be quite accordant
with his ofhce as the " Mediator between God and
man," and to his character as the ".Messenger
of Jehovah," and the "Revealer" of the divine
dispensations.

Pointing to some distant world (which, even
to the acute visual organs of heavenly beings,
may appear only as a small lucid speck in theiir

• It is probable that the celestial beings who have occa-
sionally held a communication with our race, are not all of
the same species, or inhabit the same regions: since they
are distinguished in Scripture by different names, as Sera-
phim, Cherubim, Thrones, Domiuions, Angels, Archan-
gels, &c.

76

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

sky), we may suppose hirn g^iving such a descant
as tlio following: — " 'J'hat worM presents a very
difforent iisj)ecl I'roni what yours once did, owing,
cliiefly to the moral purity and perfection of its
inliabitants. Tliere, tlie most grand and varie-
gated objects adorn their celeslial canopy; and
tlie seenes around their liabitations are inter-
nungied with cverytiiiug tiiat is beautiful to the
eye, and gratifying to the senses and tiie imagi-
nation. Neitiier scorcliing heats, nor piercing
colds, nor raging stojms, ever disturb tlie tran-
quillity of those happy mansions. The fine ethe-
real fluid which they breathe produces a perpetual
flow of pleasing emotions, and sharpens and in-
vigorates their intellectual powers for every in-
vestigation. The peculiar refractive and reflec-
tive powers possessed by the atmospheric fluid
which surrounds them, produce a variety of grand
and .beautiful effects, sometimes exhibiting aerial
laudscaoes, a'nd -scenes emblematical of moral
harmony and perfection, — sometimes a magnifi-
cent display of the riches and most variegated
coloring, and sometimes reflecting the images of
the celestial orbs in various aspects and degrees
of magnitude. Their vegetable kingdom is en-
riclied with a variety of productions unknown in
your former world, diversified with thousands of
different forms, shades, colors, and perfumes,
which shed a delicious fragrance all around. The
inferior sentient beings are likewise different,
and exhibit such ingenious, mild, and affectionate
dispositions, as contribute, in no inconsiderable
degree, to the pleasure and entertainment of the
more intelligent order of the inhabitants. The
organs of vision of these intelligences are so
acute, that they are enabled to perceive, as through
a transparent medium, the various chemiced and
mechanical processes that are incessantly going
on in the numberless ramifications of the vege-
table tribes, and in the more curious and compli-
cated structure of animal bodies; for the Creator
has ordained, as one part of tlieir mental enjoy-
ments, that they shall be furnfehed with the
means of tracing the mode of his operations, and
the designs they are intended to accomplish in
the different departments of nature.

" They are likewise extensively acquainted with
moral science — with the moral relations of intel-
ligent beings to their Creator, and to one another,
and with the outlines of the history of several
other worlds; for the leading facts in the history
of your world, respecting the fall of man, its dis-
mal consequences, and your subsequent redemp-
tion and renovation, have been communicated to
them, for the purpose of enlarging their views of
God's moral dispensations, and illustrating the
rectitude and benevolence of his government. —
In their intercourses and associations, no discor-
dant voice is ever heard, no symptom of disaffec-
tion ever appears, no boisterous passions ever dis-
turb their tranquillity ; but all is harmony and
order, peace and love. Their progress in the
knowledge of God, and of his works, is rapid and
sure, for they see cleaiiy the first principles of all
reasoning and science; and, without once making
a false step, or deducing an erroneous conclusion,
they trace them with rapidity and certainty, to all
their legitimate consequences. Their acquaintance
with natural and moral facts is extensive and mi-
nute. For the most sacred regard is attached
to truth, which was never once violated in that
happy society ; and, therefore, every discovery,
every new doctrine and fact which is broi.ght to
light by any individual, is regarded by all others
as an established truth which is never called in
question, and which serves to direct and facilitate

all their other researches. Uidike theexaggcralioni
and falsehoods which were once propagated by
lying travelers and skeptical philosopiiers, in youf
former world, which tended to bewilder the
anxious inquirer, and to obscure the radiance of
truth ; in yonder world truth is regarded as a
most sacred and invaluable treasure, as the basiB
of the happiness of the moral universe, and tlia
foundation un which rests the throne of the Eter-
nal; and, therefore, being never violated by any
individual, every testimony and assertion is re-
ceived with unhesitating confidence. By a rapid
mode of communication which has been esta-
blished, their intercourses with each other are fre-
quent and delightful, and the discoveries wliich are
made of the operations of infinite wisdom and be-
nevolence, are quickly circulated through all the
intelligent ranks of that abode of felicity and
love. Beings from other worlds occasionally visit
them, and convey interesting intelligence, and
aff'ectionate congratulations from the regions
whence they came ; and a glorious symbol of the
divine Majesty was lately displayed iu their firma-
ment, from which was announced, in majestic
but mild and transporting language — the ap))ro-
bation of their Creator, and his purpose of trans-
lating them, as a reward of their obeaience, to
another region of his empire, to behold new dis-
plays of his beneficence and power.

"This is a specimen of the moral order and
happiness which prevail among the greater part of
those worlds which siliiue from afar in yonder
firmament, but which are distinguished by a va-
riety of peculiar circumstances, which shall be
unfolded on another occasion."

Directing their view to anotlier distant orb,
which appears like a dim ruddy speck in an ob-
scure quarter of the finnament, he may thus pro-
ceed:— "That, too, is a world on a different scale,
and in a different condition. It is a thousand
.times' larger than the globe you once inliabited,
and was originally arrayed with all that magnifi-
cence and beaut}' which characterize the works of
the Creator. During a considerable period its in-
habitants retained their allegiance to their Maker,
and their affection for each other. But certain
individuals, whom a principle of pride and ambi-
tion had led to desire stations of pje-eminence,
having dared to violate some of the fundamental
laws of their Creator, — the moral turpitude which
this disposition and conduct produced, gradually
spread from one rank to another, until the
wliole mass of its inhabitants was completely
contaminated, and plunged into a gulf of misery.
To such a dreadful length has this depravity pro-
ceeded, that even the external aspect of that
world, which was once fair as Eden, has as-
sumed tlie appearance of a gloomy waste, and a
barren \vilderness. The rivers have been turned
out of their course, by these infatuated beings,
that they might overflow and change into a marsh
the once fertile plains. The earth has been dug
into immense pits and chasms, and the vegetable
tribes have been torn from their roots and strip-
ped of their verdure, in order to deface the pri-
meval beauty of creation. By these, and other
horrible devastations, the ethereal fluid in which
they breathed, which formerly dilfused a delight-
ful fragrance, has now become the receptacle of
noisome exhalations, which nauseate and irritate
every species of sensitive existence. Its brilli-
ancy has thereby become obscured, so that their
sun appears lowering through its dense vapors,
like a dusky ball; and their nocturnal sky, which
once presented a splendid assemblage of sliining
orbs, is now covered with blackness, and darkness.

MORAL HISTORY OF OTHER WORLDS.

77

i

and tempest, through which no celestial orb ever
transmits the least gliriiiiiering ray. For the h1-
miglity Contriver of all worlds Iwsso arranged, pro-
portioned, and adjusted every circumstance in the
constitdtiou of nature, that the smallest derange-
ment, by malevolent beings, of the order he has
established, is alxyays productive of disastrous ef-
fects.

" Instead of being animated with love to their
Creator, and to one another, which is the first
duty of all intelligent creatures, they hate their
Maker, and curse him on account of the exist-
ence he has given them ; and they hate each
other, with a perfect hatred. There exists among
them no peace, justice, sympathy, friondshij), or
confidence. Every one beholds and recognizes
another with the countenance of a fiend, and is
ever intent upon annoying him to the utmost of
his power. And, were it not that their bodies
are constructed on an immortal principle, so that
no power less than infinite can completely de-
stroy them, — their ferocious passions would, long
ere now, have effected the utter extermination of
every individual in that populous but miserable
world. Their bodies, which were once fair and
glorious, are now covered with every mark of
vileness and deformity. They have no delight in
contemplating the glories of their Creator's
workmanship, for they have defaced every beauty
which creation displayed, when it came fresh and
fair from the hand of its Maker ; and the intelli-
gence and wisdom they formerly possessed, are
now obliterated, and changed into ignorance and
roily.

"At the commencement of this affecting scene
of depra~ity, a messenger was dispatched by their
A..mij;iity Sovereign to warn them of their dan-
ger, and to urge them to reformation ; but, as
they had not then felt the full effects of that
wretchedness into wliich they were plunging —
after a few temporary pangs of remorse, 'they re-
turned every one to his evil ways.' Holy intelli-
gences, from other worlds, have occasionally been
sent, to contemplate the gloomy aspect, and the
Bad desolations of tliis wretched world; in order
that they might bring back intelligence to the
worlds with which they are more immediately
connected, of the dismal effects produced by
the violation of those eternal laws of rectitude
which tlie Governor of the universe has ordained.
The Creator has, for many ages, permitted those

Ehysical and moral disorders to exist — not because
e delights in the misery of any of his creatures,
but because he has a regard to the ultimate happi-
ness of the whole intelligent system. He leaves
them, in the meantime, 'to eat of the fruit of their
own ways,' that they may feel the full effects of
their apostasy and wickedness. He has permitted
them to proceed thus far in their rebellion and
depravity, in order that surrounding worlds may
be fully apprized of the dismal effects that must
inevitably ensue on every infringement of moral
order. This desolated world and its wretched in-
habitants are doomed to remain in their present
deplorable state, for ages yet to come, until an
extensive and indelible impression be made on
the inhabitants of every province of God's em-
pire; of their eternal obligation to conform to
ihcB3 laws and principles of moral order which
bis nfinite wisdom has established for the regula-
tion of the intelligent universe ; and also, that
those miserable beings themselves may be aroused
to consideration, led to humble themselves in his
presence, and made to feel some emotions of con-
trition for their impiety and ingratitude. When
these ends aie accomplished, a bright effulgence

shall suddenly illume the darkness of their night,
their atmospiiere siiall be cleared of its vapors,
and the glorious orbs of heaven shall once more
burst upon their view; the astonished inhabitants
shall lift up their eyes with amazement at the
wondrous and unlooked-for spectacle, and a
divine messenger, arrayed in splendid majesty,
shall proclaim, 'Peace from heaven — Good-will
from Jehovah to this guilty world.' In both
hemispheres of this giobi^ shall the joyful message
be proclaimed. This sudden and uuexpectea an-
nouncement will arrest the attention of every
inhabitant, and rekindle in his breast those sparks
of gratitude, which had been so long extinguished.
To prove the sincerity of this annunciation, the
' Power of the Highest' will be interposed to
purify the atmosphere, to restore the desolations
which had been produced, and to renew the face
of nature. A series of moral instructions will
commence, and be carried on with vigor, until all
be fully convinced of the folly and impiety of
their conduct. Order will be gradually re-esta-
blished; affectionate intercourses will commence;
an indelible impression of their ingratitude and
wickedness, and of the justice and benevolence
of God, will be forever fixed in their minds, which
will secure them, at all future periods, from a
similar apostasy; and peace, truth, and happiness
shall finally reign triumphant."

On such topics as these, may we suppose our
Redeemer, in the character of Mediator, occa-
sionally to expatiate, with irresistible eloquence,
when presiding in the assemblies of his redeemed;
and the emotions produced by such communica-
tions, will doubtless excite them to join in unison
in celebrating the divine character and administra-
tion, in such strains as these: — "Hallelujah! the
Lord God omnipotent reigneth. True and right-
eous are his judgments. Salvation, and glory,
and honor, and power, unto the Lord our God.
Thou art worthy to receive glory, honor, and
power; for thou hast created all things, and for
thy pleasure they are and were created."*

Thus I have endeavored to show, that even that
portion of the universe which lies within the
reach of our assisted vision, comprehends within
its capacious sphere, at least two thousand four
hundred millions of worlds — that each of these
worlds, being constructed by infinite wisdom,
must exhibit, even in its external aspect, a scene
vi'orthy of the contemplation of every rational

* I hope none of my readers will consider the snppositioa
of tlie Redeemer occasionally delivering lectures on divine
sulijects to an assembly of his saints, as either improba-
ble, extrava^'ant, or romantic. ?inre writing the above, I
lind, that tlie pious and philosophic Dr. T. Watts entertain-
ed a similar opinion. In his sermon, " On the happiness of
se]>arale spirits," when describing the employments of the
upper world, he thus expresses his sentiments on this topic;
— " I'erhaps you will suppose there is no such service as
hearing sermons, that there is no attendance upon the word
of (Jod there. I5ut are we sure there are no such entertain-
ments? Are there no lectures of divine wisdom and grace
given to the younger spirits there, by spirits of a more ex-
alted station? Or, may not our Lord Jesus Christ himself
be the everlasting Teacher of his church? May he not at so-
lemn seasons, summon all heaven to hear him publish some
new and surprising discoveries which have never yet Deen
made known to the ages of nature or of grace, and are re-
served to entertain the attention, and to exalt the pleasura
of spirits advanced to glory? Must we learn all by the mere
contemplation of Christ's person? Does he never make use
of speech to the instruction and joy of saints above? — Or, it
may be, that our blessed Lord (even as he is man) has some
noble and unknown way of communicating a long discourse,
or a long train of ideas and discoveries to millions of blessed
spirits at once, without the formalities o*" voice and language,
and at some peculiar seasons be may thus instruct and de-
light his saints in heaven."

n

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTTJRE STATE.

being — that it is hig^hly probable, from ascertained
facts, from analogy, and from revelation, that
each of these worlds has a peculiarity of scenery,
and of appendajjes, which distinguish it from
every other — that there is a gradation of intellect,
and beings of ditlerent orders among the inhabi-
tants of these worlds — that it is probable tlieir
corporeal forms and their organs of sensation arc
likdwiso wonderfully diversified -r- and that the
natural and moral history of each presents scenes
and transactions different from those which are
found in any other world. So that when the
mind endeavors to grasp the immense number of
worlds, here presented to our mental view, and
considers the variety of aspect in wliich each of
them requires to be contemplated — there a[)pears,
to such limited intellects as ours, no prospect of
a termination to the survey of a scene so exten-
sive and overwhelming ; but, on the contrary, a
rational presumption, that one scene of glory will
be followed by anotlier, in perpetual succession,
while ages roll away.

If it would require, even tp beings endowed
with mental powers superior to those of man, se-
veral hundreds of years, to survey the diversified
landscapes which our globe displays, to investi-
gate the numerous chemical processes going on
in the animal, the vegetable, and the mineral
kingdoms, throughout the surface of the earth,
the recesses of the ocean, and the subterraneous
regions, and to trace the history of every tribe
of its inhabitants during a period of six thousand
years, — if it would require thousands of years to
explore the planetary system, which presents a
field of inquiry two thousand times more exten-
sive— how many hundreds of thousands of mil-
lions of years would be requisite to study and in-
vestigate the visible universe in all that variety
of aspect to which I have now adverted I — To
explore the diversified structure and arrangements
of the bodies which compose the solar system,
and the moral events which have taken place
among its inhabitants, would require a long series
of ages. The system of bodies connected with
the planet Saturn, would, of itself, require several
hundreds of years of study and research, in order
to acquire a general view of its physical, moral,
and intellectual aspects and relations. Here we
have presented to view, — 1. A globe of vast dimen-
sions capable of containing a population of senti-
ent and intelligent beings more than a hundred
times greater than that of the earth. 2. Two
immense rings, the one of them containing, on
both its sides an area of eight thousand 7niUioiis of
square miles, and the other an area of twenty
thousand millions of miles, and sufiicient to con-
tain a population, one hundred and forty times
larger than that of our globe, although they were as
thinly peopled as the earth is at present. 3.
Seven satellites, or moons, each of which is un-
doubtedly as large as the globe on which we live,
and some of them, probably, of much greater
dimensions. The magnificent and astonishing
sceneiy displayed in this planet, so very different
from anything that is beheld in our terrestrial
sphere — the stupendous luminous arches which
stretch across its firmament, like pillars of cloud
by day and pillars of fire by night — the diversi-
fied .shadows they occasionrdly cast on the sur-
rounding landscape — the appearance and disap-
pearance of its moons, their eclipses, and diversi-
fied aspects in respect to each other, and to the
hihabitants of the planet itself, — the novel scenes
which would appear in the animal, vegetable, and
mineral kingdoms — the customs, manners, and
employmjiils of the inhabitants — the series of

events which have happened among them and the
tenor of the divine dispensations in relation to
Iheir past history and their future destination—
these, and a thousand other particulars, of which
wo can form no distinct conception — could not
ftdl to afford a sublime and delightful gratifica-
tion to a rational intelligence for a series of
ages.

It is probable, too, that even within the
boundaries of our solar system, important physi-
cal and meral revolutions have happened since its
cre;ition, beside those which have agitated the
world in which we dwell. On the surface of the
planet Jupiter, changes are occasionally taking
place, visible at the remote distance at which we
are placed. The diversity of appearance that has
been observed in the substances termed its beltSf
in whatever they may consist, or from whatever
cause this diversity may originate, — indicates
change as great, as if the whole mass of clouds
which overhang Europe, and the northern parts
of Asia and America, were to be completely swept
away, and suspended in dense strata over the Pa-
cific and the Indian oceans, — or as if the waters
of the Atlantic ocean were to overflow the conti-
nent of America, and leave its deepest caverns
exposed to view. — There were lately discovered,
between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter, four
small planetary bodies ; and, on grounds which
are highly probable, astronomers have concluded,
that they once formed a larger body which moved
in the same region, and which had burst asunder
by some immense eruptive force proceeding from
its central parts. This probable circumstance, to-
gether with a variety of singular phenomena ex-
hibited by these planets, naturally lead us to con-
clude, that some important moral revolutions had
taken place, in relation to the beings with which
it was peo; led; and suggest to the mind a variety
of sitblime and interesting reflections w iich may
hereafter be disclosed. — The planet Mars, in
several respects, bears a striking resemblance to
our earth. Its rotation round its axis is accom-
plished in nearly the same time as the earth,
namily, in 24 hours and 40 mimites. The in-
clination of its axis to the plane of its orbit is 28
degrees and 42 minutes, that of the earth being
23 degrees 28 minutes. Consequently, it experi-
ences a diversity of seasons, and different lengths
of days and nights, as we do in our sublunary
sphere. Hence Sir William Herschel informs us,
that he observed a luminous zone about the poles
of this planet, which is subject to periodical
changes, and is of opinion, that this phenomenon
is produced by the reflection of the sun's light
upon its polar regions, and tliat the variation in
the magnitude and appearance of this zone is ow-
ing to the melting of these masses of polar ice
Its atmosphere is likewise found to be very dense
and obscure ; which is the cause of that ruddy
appearance which this orb uniformly exhibits.
These circumstances indicate a striking similarity,
in its physical constitution, to that of the earth.
Whether the moral state of its inhabitants bears
any resemblance to the present condition of man-
kind, is a question which naturally suggests
itself, and which may possibly be solved in the
future state to which we are destined. Frost and
sftow, the accumulation and melting of vast
mas-;es of polar ice, long nights, and wintry
stcnns, scenes of darkness and desolation, stormy
cliuds, and a dense hazy atmosphere surcharged
with wintry exhalations, do not appear to be the
characteristics of a world where perfect happiness
is enjoyed. The sun, which is the center of our
system, and which enlightens surrounding world*

IMMENSITY OF OBJECTS IN CREATION.

70'

with his beams, is five hundred times larger tlian
all the planets and moons taken together. And,
eince we perceive frequent clianges taking place
in his surface and luminou* atmosphere, there is
doubtless a variety of astonishing processes and
transformations going on, both in the exterior
and interior parts of this immense luminary, on a
•cale of magnitude and grandeur, which it would
te highly gratifying to behold and investigate,
lud which would raise to the highest pitcii, our
eonceptious of the magnificence and glory of Him
■'who dwells in light unapproachable."

If, then, the planetary system, which occupies
no larger a portion of space than one of the small-
est stars that twinkle in our sky, would afford
Buch a vast multiplicity of objects for the contem-
plation of intelligent beings, during a lapse of ages,
— what an immense assemblage of august objects
and astonishing events is presented before us in the
physical arrangements, and the moral history of
the myriads of systems and worlds to which I
have alluded, and what an immense duration
would be requisite for finite minds to survey the
wondrous scene! This consideration suggests an
idea of duration, which to limited intellects such
as ours, seems to approximate to the idea of eter-
nity itself. Even although it could be shown,
that creation extended no farther than the utmost
bounds which the ingenuity of man has enabled
him to penetrate, — still, the vast assemblage of
glorious objects contained within the range of
our assisted vision, shows what an infinite variety
of mental gratification the Creator may bestow
on his intelligent offspring; and we are assured,
that "no good thing will he withhold from them
tliat walk uprightly."

But, would it be reasonable to admit, that the
dominions of the universal Sovereign terminate at
the boundaries of human vision? Can we believe,
that puny man, who occupies so diminutive a
epeck among the works of God, has penetrated to
the utmost limits of the empire of Him who fills
the immensity of space with his presence? As
Eoon might we suppose, that a snail could pene-
trate to the utmost extremity of the ocean, and,
with one glance, survey its deepest caverns; or,
that a microscopic animalcula, which is confined
to a drop of water, in the crevice of a small stone,
could explore at one comprehensive view, the re-
gions of Europe, Asia, Africa, and America.
Shall we consider the visible system of nature, —
magnificent and extensive as it is, — a palace suf-
ficient fertile habitation of the Deity? No: this
would be, to circumscribe the Almighty within
the limits of our imperfect vision, and within the
sphere of our comprehension. "Behold, the hea-
vens, and the heaven of heavens, cannot contain
him I" This declaration implies, that, beyond all
that the inhabitants of this world can explore in
the visible firmament, there is ix"heaven of hea-
vens"— a region which contains unnumbered fir-
maments, as glorious and extensive as that which
we behold, — throughout the vast extent of which,
the Deity is eternally and essentially present.
With regard to all that is visible by the unassisted
eye, or by the telescope, in the vault of heaven, we
may say with the poet : —

♦•Vast concave! ample dome! wast thon design'd
A meet apartment for the Deilyl
Not so: tliat thought alone thy state impairs,
Thy loj'i!/ sinks, and shallows thy profound.
And straitens thy diffusive; dwarfs tlie whole,
And makes an universe an orrery."

Beyond the wide circumference of that sphere
whicii terminates the view of mortals, a boundless

region exists, whicli no human eye can penetrate,
and which no finite intelligence can explore. To
suppose that the infinitely extended region which
surrounds all that is visible in creation, is a mere
void, would be as unreasonable, as to have affirm-
ed, prior to the invention of the telescope, that no
stars existed beyond those which are visible to tha
naked eye. When we consider the limited facul-
ties of man, and the infinite attributes of the
Eternal Mind, we have the highest reason to con-
clude, that it is but a very small portion of the
works of God which has been disclosed to our
view. "Could you soar beyond the moon (says a
well known writer), and pass through all the plan-
etary choir; could you wing your way to the
highest apparent star, and take your stand on one
of those loftiest pinnacles of heaven, you would
there see other skies expanded, another sun dis-
tributing his beams by day, other stars that gild
the alternate night, and other, perhaps nobler sys-
tems established in unknown profusion through
the boundless dimensions of space. Nor would
the dominion of the universal Sovereign terminate
there. Even at the end of this vast tour, you
would find yourself advanced no farther than the
suburbs of creation, — arrived only at the frontiers
of the great Jehovah's kingdom."

It is highly probable, that, wore all the two
thousand four hundred millions of worlds to which
we have adverted, with all the eighty millions of
suns around which they revolve, to be suddenly
extinguished and annihilated, it would not cause
so great a blank in creation, to an eye that could
take in the whole immensity of nature, as the ex-
tinction of the pleiades, or seven stars, would cause
in our visible firmament. The range of material
existence may, indeed, have certain limits assign-
ed to it; but such limits can be perceived only by
that Eye which beholds, at one glance, the whole
of infinite space. To the view of every finite
mind, it must also appear boundless and incom-
prehensible. Were it possible that we could ever
arrive at the outskirts of creation, after having
surveyed all that exists in the material universe,
we might be said, in some measure, to compre-
hend the Creator himself; having perceived the
utmost limits to which his power and intelligence
have been extended. For, although we admit,
that the perfections of the Creator are infinite;
yet we have no tangible measure of these perfec-
tions, but what appears in the immense variety
and extent of material and intellectual existence.
And we may hence conclude, that the highest
order of created intellects, after spending myriads
of ages in their research, will never come to a
period in their investigations of the works and the
ways of God.

Even although we could conceive certain limits
to the material universe, and that, after the lapse
of millions of ages, a holy intelligence had finished
his excursions, and made the tour of the universal
system which now exists, — yet, who can set
bounds to the active energies of the Eternal Mind,
or say, that new systems of creation, different
from all that have hitherto been constructed, shall
not be perpetually emerging into existence? By
the time a finite being had explored every object
which now exists, and acquired a knowledge of
all the moral and physical revolutions which have
happened among the worlds which, at present, di-
versify the voids of space — a new region of infi-
nite space might be replenished with new orders
of material and intellectual existence: and, were he
to return to the point from which he at first set
out, after numerous ages had elapsed, he would,
doubtless, behold new changes and revolutions in

80

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

many proviiicps of the Creator's dominions — new
heaviMis ami mw earths — and now species of sen-
tient and inli'llfctual beings, different from ail
tliose he at first contemplated.

That such is tiie plan of the Creator's opera-
tions, is not a mere conjecture or surmise, but is
warranted from observations which have been
made on the j)heuomena of the celestial bodies.
New stars have, at difl'erent periods, appeared in
the heavens; which are plain indications of the
continued exertion of creating power. Some
planets have burst asunder into ditferent frag-
ments, and stars which had shone for ages have
disappeared, and their existence, in their former
state, cannot now be traced.* Such facts evident-
ly show, that some important revolutions have
taken place in relation to the bodies which have
thus been withdrawn from our view. Hav-
ing for ag^:s run their destined course, either their
constitution has undergone an essential change,
or they iuive been removed to another region of
immensity, to subsei-ve otiier purposes in the
magnificent arrangements of the Sovereign Intel-
ligence. The observations made by Sir William
Herschel on the nebulous appearances in the hea-
vens, and on the ciiauges and modifications which
they undergo, lead to the conclusion, that new
systems are gradually forming in the distant re-
gions of the universe. And, if the creating ener-
gy of the Omnipotent is at present in constant op-
eration, and has been so for ages past, who shall
dare to affirm, that it shall ever cease its exertion
through all the ages of eternity?

Here, then, we have presented to our contem-
plation, an assemblage of material and intellectual
existence, to whicii the human mind can affix no
boundaries, — which is continually increasing, and
still an infinity of space remaining for perpetual
accessions, during the lapse of endless ages, — an
assemblage of beings, which, in point of number,
of magnitude, and of extent, seems to correspond
with a boundless duration. So that, we have no
reason to doubt, that "the saints in ligiit" will be
perpetually acquiring new discoveries of the di-
vine glor}', new prospects into the immensity of
God's operations, new views of the rectitude and
grandeur of his moral government, new accessions
to their felicity, and new and transporting trains
of thought, without the least interruption, as long
as eternity endures.

THRONE OF GOD.

There is just one idea more that may be sug-
gested, in addition to the several views exhibited
above, in order to raise to a higher pitch of sub-
limity, our views of the grandeur of the Divine
Being, and of the magnificence of his works.

The Scriptures frequently refer to a particular
place, circumstance, or manifestation, termed the
throne of God; as in the following passages: —
" Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my foot-
stool." "The Lord hath prepared his throne in
the heavens." "A glorious high throne, from the
beginning, is the place of thy sanctuary." "There-
fore are they before the throne of God, and sen'e
him day and night in his temple." " Blessing,
and honor, and glory, and power, be unto Him
that sits upon the throne." — These, and similar
expressions and representations, must be consid-

* Stars which are marked in ancient catalognes, are not
BOW to be fonnd, and others are now visible which were not
known to the ancients. Some have gradually increased in
brill' aney. Some that were toxmeiXy variable, now shine
witli a steady Inster, while others have been constantly di-
minishing in brightness.

ered, either as merely metapliorical, or as refer-
ring to some particular region of the universe,
where the Divine glory is reflected, in some pe-
culiarly magnificent manner, from material cb-
jeots; and where the manifestations of the Div.jie
character are most illustriously displayed. If
there be a reference to the splendor and magni-
tude of a particular portion of creation, there ia
an astronomical idea, which may help us to form
some concej)tion of this " glorious high throne,"
which is the peculiar residence of the Eternal
It is now considered by astronomers, as highly
probable, if not certain, — from late observations,
from the nature of gravitation, and other circum-
stances, that all the systems of the universe re-
volve round one common center, — and that this
center may bear as great a proportion, in point
of magnitude, to the universal assemblage of
systems as the sun does to his surrounding
planets. And, since our sun is five hundred
times larger tlian the earth, and all the other
planets and their satellites taken together, — on
the same scale, such a central body would be five
hundred times larger than all the systems and
worlds in the universe. Here, then, may be a
vast universe of itself — an example of material
creation, exceeding all the rest in magnitude and
splendor, and in which are blended the glories of
every other system. If this is in reality the case,
it may, with the most emphatic propriety, bs
termed, the throne of God.

This is the most sublime and magnificent idea
that can possibly enter into the mind of man
We feel oppressed and overwhelmed in endeavor-
ing to form even a faint representation of it. But,
however much it may overpower our feeble con-
ceptions, we ought not to revolt at the idea of so
glorious an extension of the works of God; sinco
nothing less magnificent seems suitable to a being
of infinite perfections. — This grand central body
may be considered as the Capital of the universe.
From this glorious center, embassies may be oc-
casionally dispatched to all surrounding worlds, in
every region of space. Here, too, deputations
from all the different provinces of creation, may
occasionally assemble, and the Inhabitants of dif-
ferent worlds mingle with each other, and learn
the grand outlines of those physical operations
and moral transactions, which have taken place
in their respective spheres. Here, may be ex-
hibited to the view of unnumbered multitudes,
objects of sublimity and glory, which are no-
where else to be found within the wide extent of
creation. Here, intelligences of the highest or-
der, who have attained the most sublime bights
of knowledge and virtue, may form the principal
part of the population of this magnificent region.
Here, the glorified body of the Redeemer may
have taken its principal station, as " the head of
all principalities and powers:" and here likewise,
Enoch and Elijah may reside, in the meantime,
in order to learn the history of the magnificent
plans and operations of Deity, that they may bo
enabled to communicate intelligence respecting
them to their brethren of the race of Adam, when
they shall again mingle with them in the world
allotted for their abode, after the general resurrec-
tion. Here, the gran'delti of the Deity, the glory
of his physical and moral perfections, and the im-
mensity of his empire, may strike the mind with
more bright effulgence, and excite more elevated
emotions of admiration and rapture, than in any
other province of universal nature. In fine, this
vast and splendid central universe may constitute
that august mansion referred to in Scriptiira,
under the designation of the rmRD heavens—

THRONE OF GOD.

81

THE THRONE OF THff ETERNAL the IIEA\T;N OF

HEAVENS — THE HIGH AND HOLY PLACE — and THE
LIGHT THAT IS INACCESSIBLE AND FULL OF GLORY.*

Perhaps some whose minds are not accustomed
to such bold excursions throiigli the regions of
material existence, may be apt to consider tiie
grand idea which has now been suggested, and
many of the preceding details as too improbable
and extravagant to claim our serious attention.
In reply to such an insinuation, let it be consid-
ered, in the frst place, that nothing has been
stated hut what corresponds to the wiiole analogy
of nature, and to several sublime intimations con-
tained in the system of divine Revelation. It is
a fact, which, in the present day, cannot be de-
nied by any one acquainted with the subject, that
the material universe, as far as our eye and our
glasses can carry us, consists of a countless mul-
titude of vast bodies, which completely batllo
our feeble powers in attempting to form any
adequate concei)tion of them. This amazing fact,
placed within the evidence of our senses, shows
us, that it is impossible for the humau mind to
form too extravagant ideas of the universe, or to
conceive its structure to be more glorious and
magnificent than it really is.f

* Witliin the limits of the last 150 years, it has been
found, that the principal fixetl stars have a certain apparent
motion, which is nearly uniform and regular, and is quite
perceptible in the course of thirty or forty years. The star
Jlrcturus, for example, has been observed to move tliree
minutes ami three seconds in the course of seventy-eight
years. Most of the stars have moved toward the soutli.
The stars in the northern quarter of the heavens seem to
widen their relative positions, while those in the southern
appear to contract their distances. These motions seem
e\ idently to indicate, tliat tlie earth, and all the other bodies
of the solar system, are moving in a direction from the stars,
it tlie southern part of the sky, toward those in the north-
eti. Dr. Hersche! thinks, that a comparison of tlie changes
naw alluded to, indicates a motion of our sun with his at-
tending planets toward the constellation Hercules. This
progressive movement which our system makes in absolute
space is justly supposed to be a portion of that curve, which
the sun describes around the codeiioi that nrhuhi to which
he belongs; and, that all the othwt stars belonging to the
same nebula, describe similar curves. And since the uni-
verse appears to be composed of thousands of nebid<r, or
starry systems, detached from each other, it is reasonable
to eoiclude, that all the starry systems of the universe re-
volve round one common center, whose bulk and attractive
influence are proportionable to the size and the nuniber of
the bodies which perform their revolutions around it. We
know, that the law of gravitation extends its influence from
the sun to the planet Hcrschcl, at the distance of eighteen
hundred millions of miles, and to the remotest parts of the
orbits of the comets, which stretch far beyond this limit;
and there is the strongest reason to believe, that it (brms a
connecting bond between all the bodies of the universe,
however distant from each other. This being admitted, —
the motion of the different systems now alluded to, and the
immciu<it!i of the central body, (rbm which motion of every
liind originates, to produce the order and harmony of the
universe, — appear to be necessary, in order to preserve the
balance of the universal system, and to prevent the numer-
ous globes in the universe from gradually a|)proaching each
Other, in the course of ages, and becoming one universal
wreck. — We are mechanically connected with the mo^t dis-
tant stars visible through our telescopes, by means of lislit,
which railiates from those distant luminaries, mingles w ith
the solar rays, penetrates our atmosphere, and atl'ects our
optic nerves with the sensation of colors, similar to those
produced by the rays of the sun. And we have equal rea-
son to condode, that we are likewise mechanically con-
nected with these bodies by the law of gravitation. So
that t) e idea thrown out above, however grand and over-
vhejrrtng to our feeble powers, is not a mere conjecture,
but is ibunJeJ on observation, and on the general analogies
of the universe.

t In descending to the minute parts of nature, we obtain
ecular iinonstrulion of facts which overpower our faculties,
and v/liich would be altogether incredible, were they not
placed within the evidence of the senses. In a drop of
water, in which certain vegetable substances have been in-
fusej, viillions of livin" creatures have been seen, and, in
tome instances where the animalculce are transparent, their
•f •!, and the peiistaitic motion of their bowels have been

Again, nothing sliort of such sublime and matr-
nificent conceptions seems at ail suitabh; to the
idea of a Being of infinite perfection anil of flernal
duration. If wo admit, that the divine Being is
infinite, pervading the imi^ensity of space with
his presence, wliy should wo be reluctant to ad-
mit the idea, tliat lii.s alndyldij energy is exerted
througliout the boundless regions of space? for
it is just such a conclusion as the notion of an
infinite intelligence should naturally lead us to
deduce. Whether does it appear to correspond
more with the notion of an infinite Ijeing, to be-
lieve, that his creative power has been confined
to this small globe of earth, and a few sparkling
studs fixed in the cano[)y of the sky, or to admit,
on the ground of observation and analogy, that
he has launched into existence millions of worlds
— tlvit all the millions of systems within the
reach of our vision, are but as a particle of vapor
to the ocean, when compared with the myriads
which exist in the unexplored regions of immen-
sity— that the whole of this vast assemblage of
suns and worlds revolves Uround the grand center
of the universe — and that tliis center where the
throne of God is placed, is superior to all the other
provinces of creation in magnitude, beauty, and
magnificence ? Who would dare to prove that
such conceptions are erroneous, or impossible, or
unworthy of that Being who sits on the throne
of the universe? To attempt such a proof would
be nothing less than to set bounds to Omnipo-
tence— to prescribe limits to the operations of him
"whose ways are past finding out."

" Can man conceive beyond what God can do?

Nothing but r/uite impossible is hard.

He summons into being with like ease

A whole creation and a single grain.

Speaks he the wordi a thousand worlds are born!

A thousand worlds? There's space for millions more,

And in what space can his great Fiat fail?

Condemn me not, cold critic! but indulge

The warm imagination; why condemn?

Why not indulge such thoughts as swell our hearts

With fuller admiration of that Power

Which gives our hearts with such high thouMits to

swell?
Why not indulge in his augmented praise?
Darts not his glory a still brighter ray,
The less is letlto chaos, and the realms
Of hideous night?"

These views and reasonings are fully corrobo-
rated by the sublime descriptions of Deity contain-
ed in the Holy Scriptures. — "Canst thou by
searching find out God? canst thou find out the
Almighty to perfection?" "He is the high and
lofty One who inhabiteth eternity" — " He is glo-
rious in power" — "He dwells in light unapproach-
able and full of glory" — " Great is our Lord and
of great power, his greatness is unsearchable; his
understanding is infinite" — "Can anything be too
hard far Jehovah?" "The everlasting God the
Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth
not, neither is weary^, there is no searching of
his understanding" — "He doeth great things,
past finding out, and wonders without number."
"He meteth out the heavens with a span, and com-
prehendeth the dust of the earth in a measure."
"By the word of the Lord were the heavens
made, and all the host of them by thf» Spirit of
his mouth." "He spake, and it was done; — He
commanded, and it stood fast." "He stretched

perceived. The mimitenesi of the blood-vessel, and other
parts of the structure of such creatures, is as wonderful, and
as incomprehensible, on the one hand, as the magnitude and
immensity of the universe are on the other, — demonstrating,
that, in the works of the Creator, there is an infinity on
either hand, which limited intellects will never be ab.a
fully to comprehend.

82

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

forth the heavens alone, and bringefh forth their
hosts by number." " Lo, these are mris of his
ways, but bow little a portion is heard of him;
and the tlu-<n.ler of his povver who can understand?
Behold the '^eaven, and the heaven of heavens
cannot contain hi?n!" "The iieavens declare the
glory of God, ar I tjio finnament showetli forth
his handy-work." "Tliine, 0 Lord! is the great-
ness, and the glory, ind the majesty, for all in
heaven and earth is tu!uc and tliou art exalted
above all." "Behold tbe Veavon and the heaven
of heavens is the Lord's.' "Jehovah hath pre-
pared his throne in the heaven.^, and his kingdom
ruleth over all." "I will spewk of the (/lorious
honor of thy majesty, and of thij v:(, 'droiis works."
"Blessed be tliy glorious namo who f.ft exalted
above all blessing and praise." "'I'Hou, even
thou, art Lord alone; thou hast made hcb.ven, the
heaven of heavens, with all their host, thoo pre-
servest them all, and the host of heaven worship-
eth thee." "Who can utter the mighty acts if
the Lord? who can show forth all his praise?'-
"Touching the Almighty, we cannot find him
out." "He is excellent in power, and his glory
is above the earth and heavens."

Such sublime descriptions of the Divine Being,
which are interspersed throughout various parts
of Revelation, lead us to form the most august
conceptions of liis creative energj', and plainly in-
dicate, that it is impossible for the highest created
intellect to form a more magnificent idea of his de-
signs and operations than what in reality exists.

In short, though some of the preceding views
may not precisely correspond to the facts which
shall ultimately be found to exist in the universe,
' — they ought, nevertheless, to be entertained and
rendered familiar to the mind, since they open a
sublime and interesting train of thinking; and
since they cannot go beyond the magnificence of
Jehovah's kingdom, nor be very diiFerent from
what actually exists in the universe. They form
a kind of sensible substratum of thought for the
mind to fix upon, when it attempts to frame the
loftiest conceptions of the object of our adoration.
— It may be laid down as a principle which ought
never to be overlooked in Theolog}-,^ — that, our
conceptions of the grandeur of God are precisely, or,
at least, nearly co7nmerisuraie icUh our conceptions
of the grandeur and extent of his operations through-
out the universe. We all admit, that the Deity is
infinite, both in respect of space and of duration.
But, an infinity of empty space, and an infinity
of duration, abstractly considered, convey no pre-
cise or tangible ideas to the mind, to guide it in
forming distinct conceptions of the Deity or of
any other beings. It is only when the immensity
of space is considered as diversified with an im-
mense variety and multiplicity of objects, and
when eternal duration is contemplated as connect-
ed with a constant succession of glorious scenes
and transactions, that the soul of man can expand
its views and elevate its conceptions of the incom-
prehensible Jehovah.

If these sentiments be admitted, it will follow,
that the man whose ideas are confined within the
limits of a few hundred miles, or even within the
range of the globe we inhabit, must have his
views of Deity confined within nearly the same
sphere. For we have no sensible measures of the
attributes of God, but those which are derived
from the number and extent of his actual opera-
tions. When we attempt to think of Him, with-
out the assistance of hisvisible works, ourthoughts
instantly run into confusion, and sink into inan-
ity. And, since we find that the material works
of God are so "great above all measure," so widely

extended, and so magnificent in the scale oFthe.T
operation, it is of the utmost importance, si« & re-
ligious point of view, that the mind atcjstom
itself to range at large through the wide extent of
creation — to trace, by analogy, from what is
known, theprobable magnitude, arrangement, and
grandeur of what is removed beyond the limits of
our vision — to add magnitude to magnitude, sys-
tem to system, and motion to motion, until our
thoughts are overwhelmed with the mighty idea.
And, though we may occasionally frame some erro-
neous or inadequate notions, when forming our
conceptions of certain subordinate particulars,
yet, we need not fear, that in point of number,
magnitude, and variety, our conceptions can ever
go beyond the realities which exist within the
range of universal nature, unless we suppose, that
"man can conceive ierjond what God can do."
Such trains of thought will tend to expand and
elevate the mind, and give it a sublime turn of
thinking; and will naturally produce anardentdo-
sire of beholding a brighter display of the mag-
iJti.^nce of the Creator in the eternal world.

From what has been now detailed respecting
the nun^'.i'cusand august objects that may be pre-
sented to tko Contemplation of cclestiaJ intelli-
gences, we may conclude, that the chief subjects
of study in theL^avenly world will be History and
Philosophy. Under vie department of history may
be comprehended all the details which will be ex*
hibited to them respecting the crigin, progress anf*
consummation of the redemption of man, and thft
information they may receive resp:?ctiDg the'natu
ral and moral scenery, and the prominent providea
tial occurrences and arrangements of other vjorldau

As it is evident, that matter exists chiefly fcr
the sake of sensitive and intelligent beings, so, 1*
is highly probable, if not demonstratively certain
that, the peopling of worlds with rational crea
tures is intended chiefly to display the tnoroi
character of the Creator in his providential dispen-
sations, and in the whole series of his moral ad-
ministration toward the numerous worlds and
orders of creatures which exist throughout his do-
minions. All his other perfections, particularly
his power and intelligence, appear to be exerted
in subserviency to this grand object, and to the
distribution of happiness throughout the universe.
In so far, tlien, as the facts respecting his moral
government, in other worlds, are made known to
the redeemed in heaven, in so far will their views
of his moral attributes, and of the principles of
his administration in the universe, be enlarged
and expanded. In the disclosures which, in the
course of ages, maj' be made on this subject, dis-
plays of the eternal righteousness of Jehovah, of
his retributive justice, of his "tender mercy," and of
h\shoundless benevolence, may be exhibited, which
will astonish and enrapture the mind more highly
than even the magnificence and grandeur of his
physical operations, and fill it with admiration of
the amiable and adorable excellencies of the Sov-
ereign Ruler of the universe. If we account it a
pleasant study to investigate the habits and econo-
my of some of the insect tribes; — if we should
reckon it highly gratifying to learn the history of
all the events which have befallen every natior
and tribe of mankind since the world began, par-
ticularly those which relate to our first parents in .
paradise, and after their expulsion from it, — to
the antediluvians, to the ten tribes of Israel, to
the Christians in the first centuries, to the Wald-
enses, to the Assyrians, Babylonians, and Amer-
ican Indians, — how delightful and gratifying mus<
it be, to learn the history of angels, principalitid

FUTURE MISERY OF TPIE WICKED.

83

and powers, and to become acquainted with the i
leading transactions which have occurred among I
beings of a higher order and of dili'erent species,
dispersed among ten thousands of worlds! Great
and marvelous as the liistory of our world, and of I
huni;>n redemption appears, it may be far surpnss- 1
ed b v tlie events which eternity will unfold. "The
day IS coming" (to use the words of a celebrated
modern writer*), "when the whole of tliis wond-
rous history shall be looked back upon by the eye
of remembrance, and be regarded as one incident
in the extended annals of creation, and with all
the illustration, and all the glory it has thrown
on the character of the Deity, will it be seen as a
single step in the evolution of his designs; and as
long as the time may appear, from the first act of
our redemption to its final accomplishment, and
close and exclusive as we may tliink the attentions
of God upon it, it will be found that it has left
him ropm enough for all his concerns, and that
on the high scale of eternity, it is but one of
those passing and ephemeral transactions, which
crowd the history of a never-endingadministration."

Under the department of Philosophy may be
included all those magnificent displays which will
be exhibited of the extent, the maguitude,the mo-
tions, the mechanism, the scenery, the inhabitants,
and the general constitution of other systems,
and the general arrangement and order of the uni-
versal system comprehended under the govern-
ment of the Almighty. On these topics, with all
their subordinate and infinitely diversified ramifi-
cations, the minds of redeemed intelligences from
this world will find ample scope for the exercise of
all their powers, and will derive from their inves-
tigations of them perpetual and uninterrupted en-
joyment, throughout an endless existence.

That the subjects of contemplation now stated,
will, in reality, form the chief employments of
renovated men and other intellectual beings, in a
future state, may also be proved from the repre-
sentations given in the word of God of the present
exercises of these intelligences. In the book of
Revelation, the angels, under the figure of " living
creatures full of eyes," and the " elders," or rep-
resentatives of the church of the redeemed, are
represented as falling down before the throne of
the Eternal, saying, "Thou art worthy, 0 Lord,
to receive glory, honor, and power, for thou hast
created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and
were created.'^ Here, the material works of God
are represented as the foundation or reason of the
thanksgiving and adorations of the heavenly host;
and the language evidently implies, that these
works are the subject of their cojitemplation — that
they have beheld a bright display of divine perfec-
tion in their structure and arrangement — that
they are enraptured with the enlarged views of
the divine glory which these works exhibit — and
that their hearts, full of gratitude and admiration,
are ever ready to burst forth in ascriptions of
"glory, honor, and power to him" who called the
vast assemblage of created beings into existence. —
In another scene, exhibited in the same book, the
saints who had come out of great tribulation, and
Had gotten the victory over all enemies, are repre-
sented with the harps of God in their hands, cele-
brating the divine praises in this triumphant
song, "Great and marvelous are thy works. Lord
God Almighty — just and true are thy ways, thou
King of saints." — The first part of this sowg may
be considered as the result of their contemplations
of the magnificent fabric of the universe, and the
omnipotent energies which its movements display;

• Dr. Chalmers.

and the last part of it as the result of their study
and investigation of the moral government oi God
in his providential arrangements toward men
and angels, and toward all the worlds whose moral
economy may be opened to their view. For the
words of the song plainly imply, that they have
acquired such an expansive view of the works of
God as constrains them to declare, that they are
" great and marvelous;" and that they have attain-
ed such an intimate knowledge of the divine dis-
pensations toward the intelligent universe, as ena-
bles them to perceive that all the ways of the King
of heaven are " righteous and true."

From the preceding details we may also learn,
what will form one constituent part of the misery
of the wicked in the future world. As one part
of the happiness of the righteous will consist in
"seeing God as he is," that is, in beholding the di-
vine glory as displayed in the physical and moral
economy of the universe, — so, it will, in all pro-
bability, form one bitter ingredient in the future
lot of the unrighteous, that they shall be deprived
of the transporting view of the Creator's glory, a8
displayed in the magnificent arrangements he has
made in the system of nature. Confined to one
dreary corner of the universe, surrounded by a
dense atmosphere, or a congeries of sable clouds,
they will be cut otT from all intercourse with
the regions of moral perfection, and prevented
from contemplating the sublime scenery of the
Creator's empire. This idea is corroborated by
the declarations of Scripture, where they are repre-
sented "as banished from the new Jerusalem,"
" thrust out into outer darkness," and reserved for
" the blackness of darkness for ages of ages."
And, nothing can be more tormenting to minds
endowed with capacious powers, than the thought
of being forever deprived of the opportunity of
exercising them on the glorious objects which
they know to exist, but which they can never
contemplate, and about which they never expect
to hear any transporting information.

If it be one end of future punishment to make
wicked men sensible of their folly and ingratitude,
and of the mercy- and favors they have abused, it
is probable, that, in that future world or region
to which they shall be confined, everything will
be so arranged, as to bring to their recollection, the
comforts they had abused, and the divine goodness
they had despised, and to make them feel sensa-
tions opposite to those which were produced by the
benevolent arrangements which exist in the pres-
ent state. — For example, in the present economy
of nature, every one of our senses, every part of
oiy bodily structure, every movement of which
our animal frame is susceptible, and the influence
which the sun, the atmosphere, and other parts of
nature, produce on our structure and feelings,
have a direct tendency to communicate pleasing
sensations. But, in that world, every agency of
this kind may be reversed, as to the effect it may
produce upon percipient beings. Our sense of
touch is at present accompanied with a thousand
modifications of feelings which are accompanied
with pleasure; but /Acre, everything that comes in
contact with the organs of feeling may produce
the most painful sensations. Here, the variety of
colors which adorn the face of nature, delights the
eye and the imagination, — there, the most gloomy
and' haggard objects may at all times produce a
dismal and alarming aspect over every part of the
surrounding scene. Here, the most enchanting
music frequently cheers, and enraptures the human
heart, there, nothing is heard but the dismal sounds
"weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth."
Ungrateful for the manifold blessings they received

84

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

in this world from the boiinf ifiil Givor of all good, I
the inliabitants of that dreary region will behold
their sin in their punishment, in being deprived
of everything which can administer to their sensi-
tive enjoyment.

With regard to their MwraZ .t/ff/e, Bimilar effects
will bo produced. Here, they hated the society of
the rigiiteous, and loved to mingle with evil doers
in their follies and their crimes ; there they will be
forever banished from tlie conipanj' of the wise
and the benevolent, and will feel the bitter eiFects
of being perpetually chained to the society of
tliose malignant associates who will be their ever-
lasting tormentors. Here they delighted to give
full scope to their depraved appetites and passions;
there, they will feel the bitter and horrible ejfec.ts
of the full operation of such lusts and passions,
when unrestrained by the dictates of reason, and
the authority of the divine law. If, to these
sources of sorrow and bitter deprivations, be added
the consideration, that, iu such miuds, the princi-
ples of malice, envy, hatred, revenge, and every
other element of evil, which pervaded their souls
while in this life, will rage without control, we
may form such a conception of future misery as
will warrant all the metaphorical descriptions of
it which are given in Divine Revelation, without
supposing anj' further interposition of the Deity,
in tJie direct infliction of punishment. While he
leaves them simply to " eat of the fruit of their own
waijs, and to be jilted toith their oivn devices,''^ their
punishment must be dreadful, and far surpassing
every species of misery connected with the pres-
ent state of the moral world.

On the other hand, a consideration of the infi-
nitely diversified sources of bliss to which our at-
tention has been directed, has a powerful tenden-
cy to impress the minds of the saints with a lively
perception of the unbounded nature of divine be-
nignity, and of "the love of God which is in
Christ Jesus our Lord." It is chiefly in connection
with such expansive views of the attributes and
the government of the Deity, that the love of God
toward the redeemed appears "boundless," and
"passing comprehension ;" for it introduces them
into a scene which is not only commensurate with
infinite duration, but is boundless in its prospects
of knowledge, of felicitj', and of glory. And,
therefore, amidst all the other employments of the
heaveniy state, they will never forget their obliga-
tion to that unmerited grace and mercy which
rescued their souls from destruction, but will min-
gle with all their sublime investigations, — ascrip-
tions of " blessing, and honor, and glory, and pow-
er, to Him that sits upon the throne, and to 4hc
Lamb, forever and ever."

The substance of what has been detailed in this
department of my subject may be now briefly
Stated in the following summary:

The redeemed in heav'en will enjoy perpetual
and uninterrupted felicity — the foundation of this
felicity will be laid in their complete freedom from
sin, and their attainment of moral perfection —
their renovated faculties will be employed in con-
templating the divine glory — the divine glory con-
sists in the manifestation of the divine perfections
— the sensible display of these perfections will be
given (and can only be given), in the works of
creation, in the intelligences which people the
material world, their orders, gradations, history,
and present state — in the variety of scenery which
the abodes of intelligence exhibit — in the economy
and moral order which prevail among them, — and
in the various dispensations of Divine Providence
in reference to all worlds and orders of beings.

With regard to the happiness of h'cavtn, th«
Scriptures convey to us, in general proposiiioni»»
certain inlimutious of its nature, qualities, and
objects, and of the qualifications which arc requi-
site in order to its enjoyment. The discoveries
which science has made in the visible cremation
form so many illustrations of the scriptural decla-
rations on this subject; and it is undoubtedly our
duty to direct our trains of thouglit, and to ex-
pand our conceptions of the felicities of the future
world, by every illustrative circumstance which
can be traced in the scene of nature which tha
Almighty has presenb'd to our view. For tha
word and th " works of God must always harmon-
ize, and reflect a mutual luster on each other
What we find to be actually existing within tha
visible scene of the universe, can never contradict
any of the statements of Revelation ; but, on the
contrary, must tend to elucidate some one or other
of its interesting connnunications. And since wa
find, in our survey of the system of nature, an as-
semblage of astonishing objects which tend to
raise our conceptions of the Supreme Being, and
of the sublime and diversified nature of future fe-
licity,— it becomes us to prosecute those trains of
thought which the analogies of Nature and of
Revelation suggest, in order to enlarge the capa-
cities of our minds, to exalt our ideas of celestial
bliss, and to prepare us for more expansive and
sublime contemplations, iu that world where thft
physical and moral obstructions which now im-
pede our progress, and obscure our intellectual
views, shall be completely and forever removed>

From the whole of what we have stated on this
department of our subject, we may learn the va-
lue of the human soul, and the importance which ought
to be attached to our immortal destination. What a
shadow does human life appear when contrasted
with the scenes of futurity! What a small point
in duration do the revolutions of time present
when compared with a boundless eternity! What
a limited scene does this world, with all its glories,
exhibit, when set in competition with the extent,
and the splendors of that empire which stretches
out into immensity, and shall endure forever !
And is man to be transported to other regions of
the universe, to mingle with the inhabitants of
other worlds, and to exist throughout an endless
duration ? What a noble principle does the human
mind appear, when we consider it as qualified to
prosecute so many diversified trains of thought, to
engage in so sublime investigations, to attain tire
summit of moral perfection, and to expatiate at
large, through the unlimited dominions of the Al-
mighty, while eternal ages are rolling on ! How
important, then, ought everything to be consider-
ed which is connected with the scene of ouf
eternal destination ! If these truths be admitted,
reason and common sense declare, that a more
interesting and momentous subject cannot possibly
occupy the mind of man. It is so profoundly in-
teresting, and connected with so many awful anft
glorious consequences, that we must be utterly
dead to every noble and refined feeling, if we hia
altogether indifferent about it.

If there were only a h'dre probability for the opin-
ion, that man is immortal, and that the scenes to
which I have alluded might possibly be realized, it
ought to stimulate the most anxious inquiries, and
awaken all the powers and energies of our soula.
For it is both our duty and our highest interest to ob-
tain light and satisfaction, on a point on which our
present comfort and our ultimate happiness must de-
pend. But, if the light of nature, and the dictates of
revelation both conspire to demonstrate tlie eteraaJ

QUALIFICATIONS FOR HEAVEN.

85

(

destiny of maukind, notliing can exceed the folly
and tlie infatualiou of tliose who trifle with their
everlustiny; interests, ami even try every scheme,
and prosecute every tmial ol)ject, that may liavo
a tendency to turn aside their thoughts from this
Impovtuiit subject. Yet, how often do we find, in
the conduct of the various classes of mankind, the
merest trifles set in competition with the scenes
of happiness or of misery that lie beyond the grave.
The groveling pleasures derived from hounding
and horsc-raeiiig, balls, musqueraUes, and tlu-atri-
cal amusements; the acquisition of a few i)altry
pounds o:-shilliugs, the rattling of dice, or the shuf-
fling 01 a pack of cards, will absorb the minds of
thousands who profess to be rational beings, while
they refuse to spend one serious hour in reflecting
on the fate of their immortal spirits, when their
bodies shall have dropped into the tomb. Nuy,
such is the indilFerence, and even antipathy with
which this subject is treated by certain classes of
Bociety, that it is considered as unfashionable, and
in certain cases, would be regarded as a species of
insult, to introduce, in conversation, a sentiment
or a reflection, on the eternal destiny of man!
" The carelessness which they betray in a matter
which involves their existence, their eternity, their
all (says an energetic French writer) awakes my
indignation, rather than my pity. It is astonish-
ing. It is horrifying. It is monstrous. I speak
not this from the pious zeal of a blind devotion.
On the contrary, I affirm, that self-love, that self-
interest, that the simplest light of reason, should in-
spire these sentiments; and, in fact, for this we need
but the perceptions of ordinary men. — It requires
but little elevation of soul to discover, that here
there is no substantial delight; that our pleasures
are but vanity, that the ills of life are innumera-
ble ; and that, after all, death, which thre'atens us
every moment, must, in a few years, perhaps in a
few days, place us in the eternal condition of hap-
piness, or misery, or nothingness."

It is, therefore, the imperative duty of every
man v^ho makes any pretensions to prudence and

rationality, to endeavor to have his mind impress-
ed with a conviction of the reality of a future and
invisible world, to consider its importance, and to
contemplate, in the light of reason and of revela-
tion, the grand and solemn scenes which it dis-
|)lays. While the least doubt hovers upon his
mind in relation to this subject, he should give
himself no rest until it be dispelled. He should ex-
plore every avenue where light and information
may be obtained ; he should prosecute his re-
searches with the same earnestness and avidity as
the miser digs for hidden treasures; and above all
things, he should study, with deep attention and
hum'ility, the revelation contained in the Holy
Scriptures, with earnest prayer to God for light
and direction. And if such inquiries be conduc-
ted with reverence, with a devotional and contrite
spirit, and with perseverance, every doubt and dif-
ficulty that may have formerly brooded over his
mind will gradually evanish, as the shades of night
before the orient sun. "If thou criest after know-
ledge, and liftest up thy voice for understanding;
if thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her
as for hid treasures — then shalt thou understand
the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of
God. For the Lord giveth wisdom, out of his
mouth Cometh knowledge and understanding. In
all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct
thy paths. Then shall thy light break forth in
obscurity, and thy darkness shall be as the
noon-day."

In fine, if we are thoroughly convinced of our
relation to an eternal world, it will be our constant
endeavor to cultivate those heavenly dispositions
and virtues, and to prosecute that course of action
which will prepare us far the enjoyments of the
heavenly state. "For without holiness no man can
seethe Lord," and we are assured that "no unclean
thing can enter the gates of the New Jerusalem,"
and that neither "thieves, nor extortioners, nor the
covetous, nor the effeminate, nor drunkards, nor
revilers, nor idolaters shall inherit the Kingdom
of God."

PART IV.

ON THE MORAL QUALIFICATIONS REQUISITE TO THE ENJOYMENTS OF THE
FELICITY OF THE FUTURE WORLD.

There is scarcely an individual who admits the
doctrine of the immortality of man, who does not
indulge a certain degree of hope, that he shall be
admitted into a happier world, when his spirit
wings its way from this earthly scene. Even the
man of the world, the profligate and the debau-
chee, notwithstanding their consciousness of guilt,
and of the opposition of their aflTections to the Di-
vine Law, and the duties of the Christian life, are
fiequently found buoying themselves up, in the
midst of their unhallowed courses, with the vain
expectation, that an All-Merciful Creator will not
Buffer them ultimately to sink into perdition, but
will pity their weakness and follies, and receive
them, when they die, into thejoys of heaven. Such
hopes arise from ignorance of the divine character,
and of that in which true happiness consists, and
from fallacious views of the exercises of a future
state and the nature of its enjoyments. For, in
order to enjoy happiness in any state, or in any
region of the universe, the mind must be imbued
With a relish for the society, the contemplations,

and the employments peculiar to that region or
state, and feel an ardent desire to participate in its
enjoyments.

What pleasure would a miser, whose mind is
wholly absorbed in the acquisition of riches, feel
in a world where neither gold nor silver, nor any
other object of avarice is to be found ? What en-
tertainment would a man whose chief enjoyment
consists in hounding, horse-racing, routs, and
masquerades, derive in a scene where such amuse-
ments are forever abolished? Could it be sup-
posed that those who now find their highest intel-
lectual pleasures in Novels and Romances, and in
listening to tales of scandal, would experience any
high degree of enjoyment in a world where there
is nothing but substantial realities, and where the
inhabitants are united in bonds of the purest affec-
tion ? — or, that those whose minds never rise be-
yond the pleasures of gambling, card-playing, and
gossiping chit-chat, would feel any relish for the
refined enjoyments, the sublime contemplations,
and the enraptured praises of the heavenly iuhab-

86

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

itants? All the arrangements of the celestial state,
behooved to be changed and overturned, and an-
gels, archangels, and redeemed men, banished from
its abodes, before such characters could find en-
tfrtainnieiits agreeable to their former habits and
desires. Altliough tliey were admitted into the
mansions of bliss, they would be miserably disap-
pointed; and would feel themselves in a situation
similar to that of a rude savage or a Russian boor,
weie lie to be introduced into an assembly of
princes and nobles. They would ;)erceive nothing
congenial to their former pursuits ; they would
feel an inward reluctance to the pure and holy ex-
ercises of the place, and they would anxiously
desire to fly away to regions and to companions
more adupted to tlieir groveling views and aiFec-
tions. For, it is the decree of Heaven — a decree
founded on the moral laws which govern the in-
telligent universe, and which, like the law of the
Medes and Persians, cannot be changed, — that
"Without holiness no man can see the Lord," and
that "no impure person that worketh abomination,
or maketh a lie, can enter within the gates of the
Heavenly Jerusalem."

The foundation of felicity in the future state, is
substaiUiully the sanre as that which fonns the
basis of happiness in the present world. How-
ever elevated the station in which an individual
may be placed, however much wealth he may pos-
sess, and however splendid his rank and equipage,
he can enjoy no substantial felicity, while he re-
mains the slave of groveling appetites and aiFec-
tions, and while pride and envy, ambition and re-
venge, exercise a sovereign control over his mind.
While destitute of supreme love to God, and be-
nevolent affections toward man, and of the Chris-
tian virtues which flow from these fundamental
principles of moral action, the mind must remain
a stranger to true happiness, and to all those ex-
pansive views, and delightful feelings, which raise
the soul above the pleasures of sense, and the trivial
vexations and disappointments of the present life.

These positions could be demonstrated, were it
necessary, by numerous facts connected with the
moral scenery of human society. Whence pro-
ceeds that ennui, which is felt in the fashionable
vsrorld, in the absence of balls, parties, operas, and
theatrical entertainments ? Whence arise those
domestic broils, those family feuds and conten-
tions, which are so common in the higher, as well
as in the lower ranks of life, and which imbitter
every enjoyment? Whence does it happen, that,
in order to obtain gratification, and to render ex-
istence tolerable, so many tlvousands of rational
beings condescend to indulge in the most childish,
foolish, and brutal diversions? Even in the most
polished circles of society, many who pride
themselves on their superiority to the vulgar
throng, are found deriving their chief gratifi-
cation, not only in scattering destruction among
the brutal and the feathered tribes, butin mingling
among the motley rabble of a cockpit, and in wit-
nessing a couple of boxers encountering like fu-
rious fiends, and covering each other with wounds
and gore. Whence arise the torments that are
felt from wounded pride and disappointed ambi-
tion? and how does it happen that social parties
cannot enjoy themselves for a couple of hours,
without resorting to cards and dice, gambling and
gossiping, and the circulation of tales of scandal?
How is it to be accounted for, that suicide is so
frequently committed by persons in the higher cir-
cles, who are surrounded with luxuries and splen-
dor; and that murmuring, discontentment, and
ingratitude, mark the dispositions and conduct of
the lower ranks of society? All these effects pro-

ceed from the absence of Christian pi . '*plcs and
dispositions, and from tlie narrow range of objects
to which tlie intellectual powers are confined
The man who is actuated^by Christian views and
afll'Clions, looks down with indifi'erence and con«
tempt, on the degrading pursuits to which I hava
alluded; his soul aspires after objects more conge-
nial to his rational and immortal nature; and in
the pursuit of these, and the exercise of the vir-
tues which religion inculcates, he enjoys a refined
pleasure whicli the smiles of the world cannot
produce, and which its frowns cannot destroy.

As in tlie present life there are certain mental
endowments necessary for securing substantial
happiness, so, there are certain moral qualifications
indispensably 'requisite in order to prepare us for
relishing the entertainments and the employments
of the life to come. The foundation of future
felicity must be laid in "repentance toward God,
and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ." We
must be convinced of our sin and depravity an de-
scendants of the first Adam, of the demerit of our
offenses, of the spotless purity and eternal recti-
tude of that Being whom we have offended, and
of the danger to which we are exposed as the vio-
lators of his law. We must receive, with humili-
ty and gratitude, the salvation exhibited in the
Gospel, and "behold," with the eye of faith, "the
Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the
world." We must depend on the aid of the Spirit
of God to enable us to counteract the evil propen-
sities of our nature, to renew our souls after the
divine image, and to inspire us with ardent desires
to abound in all those "-fruits of righteousness
which are to the praise and glory of God." We
must "add to our faith, fortitude and resolution,
and to fortitude, knowledge, and to knowledge,
temperance, and to temperance, patience, and to
patience, godliness, and to godliness, brotherly
kindness and charity. For, if these things be in
us and abound, they will permit us to be neither
barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our
Lord Jesus Christ; — and so an entrance shall be
abundantly administered unto us into the ever-
lasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour."*

The foundation of Religion being thus laid in
the exercise of such Christian graces, the fol-
lowing dispositions and virtues, among many
others, will be clierished and cultivated, and will
form substantial qualifications for enabling us to
participatt in "the inheritance of the saints in light."

1. Supreme love to God, the original source
of happiness. This is the first duty of every ra-
tional creature, and the most sublime affection
that can pervade the human mind. It glows in
the breasts of angels and archangels, of cheru-
bim and seraphim, yea, there is not an inhabitant
of any world in the universe who has retained
his primitive integrity, in whose heart it does not
reign triumphant. It unites all holy intelligences
to their Creator and to one another; and consequent-
ly, it must qualify us for holding a delightful inter-
course with such beings, wherever they exist, and
in whatever region of the universe our future
residence may be appointed. It enlivens tl:^e ado-
rations of the angelic tribes, when they exclaim,
"Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory, and
honor, and thanksgiving, and power." It ani-
mates them in all their celestial services; it in-
spires them with a noble ardor in executing the
commands of their Sovereign, and it qualifies its
possessor, to whatever world he may belong, for
co-operating with them, in carrying forward that '

scheme of universal benevolence, toward the ac-

• 2 Peter i. 5, 6, 7,8, 11. Doddridge's Translation,

LOVE TO GOD.

8T

complishment of which all the arrangements of
the Creator ultimately tend.

Tliis koly affection is congenial to every view
we can take of the charactur and operations of
the Deit}', and its obligation is deduced from tlie
clearest principles of Reason, as well as from the
dictates of Revelation. It is founded on every
attribute of tlie Divinity, and on every p:irt of
his physical and moral administration. His om-
nipotence is every moment exerted in supporting
the frame of the universe, in bringing about the
alternate succession of day and night, summer
and winter, seed-time and harvest, and in direct-
ing the operation of the elements of nature, in
such a way as to contribute to the happiness of
man. His wisdom and intelligence are displayed
In proportionating and arranging every object in
tlie system of nature, in such a manner, that
everything is preserved in order and harmony,
and in organizing the bodies of men and other
creatures, so as to prevent pain, and to produce a
combination of pleasurable sensations. His good-
ness extends over all his works, and is displayed
toward every rank of sensitive and intelligent
existence. It appears in the splendors of the sun,
in the radiance of the moon, in the glories of the
starry firmament, in the beautiful assemblage of
colors which diversify the face of Nature, in the
plants and flowers, which adorn the fields, in the
gentle zephyrs, in the rains and dews that ferti-
lize the soi), in the provision made for the suste-
nance of the innumerable beings that inhabit the
air, the waters, and the eartii, and "in filling the
hearts of men with food and gladness." His
mercy and forbearance are exercised toward all
men, even to the most profligate and abandoned,
in supporting .them in existence and loading
them with his benefits, even when they are en-
gaged in acts of rebellion against him. For he
commandeth his sun to arise on the evil as well
as on the good, and sendeth rain both on the just
and on the unjust. He displays his long-suffering,
for many years, toward the thoughtless prodigal,
and the violators of his law, to demonstrate, that
"he desires not that any should perish, but that all
bhould come to repentance."

A Being possessed of such attributes, and in-
cessantly displaying such beneficence tliroughout
creation, demands the highest affection and vene-
ration of all his intelligent offspring; so that it is
the dictate of enlightened reason as well as of
revelation, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God
with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all
thy strength." For, it is from him as the origi-
nal source of felicity, that all our sensitive and
intellectual enjoyments proceed, and on liim we
depend for all the blessings that shall accompany
UB in every future stage of our existence. Love
to God, is therefore, the most reasonable and ami-
able affection that can glow in the human heart,
and the spring of every virtuous action, and of
every pleasing and rapturous emotion. If we are

Eossessed of this divine principle, we shall delight in
is worship, and bow with reverence at his foot-
Btool; we shall feel complacency in his character
and administration ; we shall contemplate with
admiration, the incomprehensible knowledge, the
omnipotent power, and the boundless beneficence
displayed in the mighty movements of creation
and providence; we shall feel the most lively
emotions of gratitude for the numerous blessings
he bestows; we shall be resigned to his will under
every providential arrangement, and we shall long
for that happy world where the glories of his
nature, and the "kindness of his love" shall be
mora illustriously displayed. But the man who

Vol. L— 16

is destitute of this amiable affection, is incapable
of those sublime and rapturous emotions which
animate the minds of celestial intelligences, and
altogether unqualified for mingling in their so-
ciety. He is a rebel against the divine govern-
ment, a nuisance in the universe of God, the
slave of groveling appetites and passions, and
consequently, unfit for participating in the exer-
cises and enjoyments of the saints in glory.

2. Lnve to mankind is another affection which
is indispensably requisite to qualify us for parti-
cipating in the joys of heaven. This distinguish-
ing characteristic of the saints naturally and ne-
cessarily flows from love to the Supreme Being.
" For ( says the apostle John ) every one that
loveth him who begat, loveth them also who are
begotten of him. If God loved us we ought also
to love one another. If a man say, I love God,
and hatcth his brother, he is a liar; for he who
loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how
can he love God whom he hath not seen."
As the spring flows from the fountain and par-
takes of its qualities, and as the shadow always
accompanies the substance, and is produced bj' it,
so love to man unifonnly accompanies the love of
God, and is produced by the powerful influence
which this governing principle exerts over the
mind.

This affection is accordant with the dictates
of reason, and congenial to the best feelings of
the human heart. When we consider that our fel-
low-men derived their orginfromthe samealmighty
Being who brought us into existence— that they are
endowed with the same physical functions as our-
selves, and the same moral and intellectual pow-
ers,— that they relish the same pleasures and
enjoyments, possess the same feelings, and are
subjected to the same wants and afflictions — that
they are involved in the same general depravity,
and liable to the same temptations and disasters —
that they are journeying along with us to the
tomb, and that our dust must soon mingle with
tlieirs — when we consider the numerous relations
in which we stand to our brethren around us,
and to all the inhabitants of the globe — our de-
pendence upon all ranks and descriptions of men,
and upon almost every nation under heaven for
our sensitive and intellectual enjoyments, — and
that thousands of them are traversing sea and
land, and exposing themselves to innumerable dan-
gers, in order to supply us with the comforts and
the luxuries of life — when we consider, that they
are all destined to an immortal existence, and shall
sunive the dissolution of this globe, and bear a
part in the solemn scenes which shall open to view
when time shall be no more — in short, when we
consider, that the Great Father of all, without
respect of persons, makes the same vital air to
give play to their lungs, the same water to
cleanse and refresh them, the same rains and
dews to fructify their fields, the same sun to en-
lighten their day, and the same moon to cheer
the darkness of their night — we must be con-
vinced, that love to our brethren of mankind is
the law of the Creator, and the most rational and
amiable affection that can animate the human
heart in relation to subordinate intelligences. He
who is destitute of this affection is a pest in so-
ciety, a rebel and a nuisance in the kingdom of
God, and, of course, unqualified for the enjoy-
ment of celestial bliss. "For he who -hateth his
brother, is a murderer; and we know that no
murderer hath eternal life abiding in him."*

But, our love is not to be confined to our breth-

•IJohniii. 15.

88

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

ren of the race of Adam. It must take a loftier
flight, and comprehend within its expansive grasp,
all the holy intelligences in the universe, in so far
as their nature and qualities have been made
known to us. We must love the angelic tribes.
They are beings who stand near the summit of
the scale of intellectual existence; they are en-
dowed with faculties superior to man; they dwell
in the glorious presence of God, and are employ-
ed as his ministers in superintending the afFair.s
of his government. They are possessed of won-
derful activity, invested with powers of rapid
motion, and flourish in immortal youth. They
are adorned with consummate holiness and recti-
tude, and with peculiar loveliness of character.
Pride and vanity, envy and malice, wrath and
revenge, never rankle in their breasts. They
never indulge in impiety, never insult the Re-
deemer, nor bring a railing accusation against
their brethren. They glow with an intense and
immortal flame of love to their Creator; they are
incessantly employed in acts of benevolence;
they occasionally descend to our world on em-
bassies of mercy, and are ministering spirits to
the heirs of salvation. On all these accounts they
demand our esteem, our approbation, and our
affectionate regard. And, although they are at
present placed beyond the reach of our benefi-
cence, and we have no opportunity of expressing
our benevolent wishes, yet we may afterward be
joined to their society, and co-operate with them
in their labors of love.

The indispensable necessity of love to mankind,
and to every class of holy intelligences, as a pre-
paration for heaven, will appear, when we consider,
that we shall mingle in their society, and hold
intimate fellowsliip with them in the eternal
world. For the inhabitants of our world who
are admitted into heaven, are represented in Scrip-
ture, as joining " the general assembly and church
of the first-born, the spirits of just men made
perfect and the innumerable company of angels;"
and hence they are exhibited, in the book of Re-
velation, as joining with one heart and one mind
in contemplating the divine operations, and in
celebrating the praises of their common Lord.
In the society of that blessed world, love pervades
every bosom, it reigns forever triumphant ; and
therefore, every exercise and intercourse is con-
ducted with affection, harmony, and peace. Among
the other evils which shall be banished from the
New Jerusalem, it is declared in the book of
Revelation, that "there shall be no more crying,''''
or, as the words should be rendered, " there shall
be no more clamor, broils, or contentions," arising
from the operation of malignant principles. No
jarring affection is ever felt, no malevolent wish
is ever uttered, and no discordant voice is ever
heard, among all the myriads of those exalted
intelligences. Kindness and benignity, expansive
benevolence, condescension and humility, are the
characteristics of all the inhabitants of heaven.
Without these qualities the celestial world would
become a scene of eternal confusion, and happi-
ness would be banished from its abodes. If, there-
fore, we would be qualified to associate with those
glorious beings and to participate in their enjoy-
ments, we must cultivate the same virtues, and be
animated by similar dispositions, otherwise, we
could experience no delight in the society of an-
gels, and of " the spirits of the just made perfect."
Were an individual whose heart is full of rancor
and envy, who delights in broils and contentions,
and in the exercise of revenge, to be admitted
into that society, he would find no associates actu-
ated by congenial feelings, he would disturb the

harmony of the celestial choir, and would b«
instantly expelled, with every mark of indignation
and horror, from those blessed abodes. " For
what fellowship hath righteousness with unright-
eousness? what communion hath light with dark
ness? and what concord hath Christ with Belial?'
By a law which pervades the whole moral uni-
verse wherever it extends, which can never h*
rescinded, and which, like the law of gravitation
in the material world, connects all the individualt
of which it is composed in one harmonious sys-
tem; such characters must, of necessity, be for-
ever excluded from the mansions of the blessed.
On the other hand, the man whose heart glows
with love to his Creator, and with expansive
affection to mankind, and toward all holy beings,
is secured of eternal happiness, as tlie necessary
result of the possession of such divine principles;
and must enjoy felicity, while such principles
remain in exercise, during all the future periods
of his existence, and in every region of the uni-
verse to which he may be transported.

3. Humility 'is another essential qualification for
enjoying the felicity of the future world. There
is nothing that appears more prominent in the
character of the bulk of mankind, than pride^
which displays itself in a thousand different modei
in the intercourses of society. It is uniformly
accompanied with haughtiness of demeanor, self-
conceit, obstinacy, arrogance, and a whole trail
of malignant passions and affections. It is tht
pest of general society, the source of domestic
broils and contentions, and the greatest curse tha«
can fall on a christian church, when it insinuate!
itself into the minds of those who " love to hav»
the pre-eminence." It is a source of torment to
its possessor, and to all arou4*d him; and of all thf
malignant passions which rankle in the humak
breast, it is the most inconsistent with the preseni
character and condition of man. It is peculiar to
fallen and depraved intelligences, for it is certain,
from the very constitution of the moral system,
that no emotions of pride or haughtiness are ever
felt in the breasts of angels, or any other holy
beings; because such affections are incompatible
with the principle of love to God and to our fellow-
creatures.

In opposition to this principle, which predomi-
nates in the minds of fallen man, and apostate an-
gels,— humility is a distinguishing characteristic of
the sons of God, whether on earth or in heaven.
Hence, we are told that " God resisteth the proud,
but giveth grace to the humble" — that even "a
proud look is an abomination in his sight," while
he beholds with complacency " the humble and
the contrite spirit." Hence, we are exhorted "to
clothe ourselves with humility; " and " to forbear
one another in all lowliness and meekness of mind,
and to esteem others better than ourselves." Hu-
mility consists in a just sense of our character and
condition, both as dependent beings and as apos-
tate creatures, accompanied with a corresponding
train of dispositions and affections. However
much thisdisposition has been disrelished by Hume
and other infidels, who consider it as both vicious
and contemptible, — when viewed in its true light,
it appears congenial to the best feelings of our na-
ture, and to the plainest deductions of rea.son.—
When we consider our condition as creatures, de-
pendent every moment on a Superior Being " for
life, and breath, and all things," when we reflect
on the curious organization of our corporeal frame,
the thousands of veins, arteries, muscles, bones,
lacteals, and lymphatics, which are interwoven
through its constitution; the incessant pulsation
of the heart iu the center of the system, and th«

HUMILITY.

89

numerous other functions and movements over
which we have no control, — when we reflect on our
character as guilty and depraved creatures, in the

Cresence of Him " who is of purer eyes than to
ehold iniquity; " and on the numerous diseases,
pains, sorrows, and physical evils from the war of
the elements, to which we are subjected, — when
we consider, that, ere long, our bodies must crum-
ble into dust, and become the prey of noisome
reptiles; — when we reflect on tJte low station in
which we are placed in the scale of intelligent exis-
tence— that we are only like so many atoms, or
microscopic animalcul-^ when contrasted with the
innumerable myriads of bright intelligences that
people the empire of God — and that the globe on
which we dwell is but as " the drop of a bucket,"
when compared with the millions of more resplen-
dent worlds that roll through the vast spaces of
creation; — and, in short, when we consider the
grandeur of tiiat Omnipotent Being, whose pres-
ence pervades every region of immensity, and in
whose sight " all the inhabitants of the world, are
as grasshoppers, and are counted to him as less
than nothing and vanity," tliere is no disposition
that appears more conformable to the character
ajid condition of man, than "lowliness of mind,"
and none more unreasonable and inconsistent with
the rank and circumstances in which he is placed,
than pride, haughtiness and arrogance.

This amiable disposition forms a peculiar trait
in the character of angels and other pure intelli-

fences. It is poor, puny, sinful man, alone, who
ares to be proud and arrogant. It is that lebel-
lious worm of the dust alone (if we except the an-
gels of darkness), that looks down with supercili-
ous contempt on his fellow-creatures, and attempts
to exalt himself above the throne of God. No
such affections are ever felt in the breast of supe-
rior beings who have kept their first estate. In
proportion to the enlarged capacity of their minds;
In proportion to the expansive views they have
acquired of the dominions of Jehovah, in propor-
tion to the elevated conceptions they have attain-
ed of the character and attributes of their Creator,
in a similar proportion are their minds inspired
with humility, reverence and lowly adoration.
Having taken an extensive survey of the opera-
tions of Omnipotence, having winged their way
to numerous worlds, and beheld scenes of wisdom
and benevolence, which the eye of man hath not
yet seen, nor his imagination conceived, and hav-
ing contemplated displays of intelligence and pow-
er, which are beyond the reach even of their own
superior faculties to comprehend — they see them-
selves as finite and imperfect creatures, and even
as it were fools,* in the presence of Him whose
glory is ineifable and whose ways are past finding
out. — Hence, they are represented as " covering
their faces with their wings," in the presence of
tlieir Sovereign ;t and, in the Book of Revelation,
they are exhibited as " casting their crowns before
the throne, and saying, thou art worthy, O Lord,
to receive glory, and honor, and power."* What
a striking contrast does such a scene present to the
haughty airs, and the arrogant conduct of the
proud beings thatdwell on this terrestrial ball, who
are at the same time immersed in ignorance and
folly, immorality and crime!

In their intercourses with the inhabitants of
our world, and the oflices they perform as min-
istering spirits to the heirs of salvation, the same

In the book of Job, Eliphaz, when describing the per-
fecviocs of the Alniiglity, declares, that "the heavens are
mot clean in his sight," and that even"hisangels he chargeth
with/o//i/. ' Job iv. 18; xv. 15.
+ Isaiah vi. 2. % Rev. iv. 10, 11.

humble and condescending demeanor is dis-
played. One of the highest order of these ce-
lestial messengers — "Gabriel, who stands in
the presence of God," — winged his flight from
his heavenly mansio.t to our wretched world,
and, directing his course to one of the most
despicable villages of Galilee, entered into the hovel
of a poor virgin, and delivered a message of joy,
with the most aflectionate and condescending
gratulalions. Another of these benevolent beings
entered the dungeon in which Peter was bound
with chains, knocked olF his fetters, addressed
him in the language of kindness, and delivered
him from the iiands of his furious persecutors.
When Paul was tossing in a storm, on the billows
of the Adriatic, a forlorn exile from his native
land, and a poor despised prisoner, on whom the
grandees of this world look down with contempt,
— another of these angelic beings, " stood by him,"
during the darkness of the night and the war of
the elements, and consoled his mind with the as-
surance of the divine favor and protection. Laza-
rus was a poor despised individual, in abject
poverty and distress, and dependent on charity for
his subsistence. He lay at tne gate of a rich man,
without friends or attendants, desiring to be fed
with the crumbs that fell from his table. His body
was covered with boils and ulcers, which were ex-
posed without covering to the open air; for tlie
" dogs came and licked his sores." What noble-
man or grandee would have condescended to make
a companion of a fellow-creature in such loath-
some and abject circumstances? Who, even of
the common people, would have received such a
person into their houses, or desired his friendship?
Who would have accounted it an honor, when he
died, to attend his funeral? Celestial beings, how-
ever, view the circumstances, and the characters
of men in a very different light, from that in which
they appear to " the children of pride." Poor and
despised as Lazarus was, a choir of angels descen-
ded from their mansions of glory, attended him
on his dying couch, and wafted his disembodied
spirit to the realms of bliss.

Since, then, it appears, that angelic beings, not-
withstanding their exalted stations, and the supe-
rior glories of their character, are " clothed with
humility," — it must form a distinguishing trait in
our moral characters, if we expect to be admitted
into their society in the world to come. For how
could we enter into harmonious fellowship with
tliese pure intelligences, if we were actuated
with dispositions diametrically opposite to theirs,
and what happiness would result from such an as-
sociation, were it possible to be effected? A proud
man, were he admitted into heaven, could feel no
permanent enjoyment. The external glory of the
place might dazzle his eyes for a little, but he
would feel no relish for the society and the employ-
ments of that world. The peculiar honor confer-
red on patriarchs, prophets, and apostles, and the
noble army of martyrs, and the exalted stations of
the cherubim and seraphim, would excite his envy
and ambition, and, ere long, he would attempt to
sow the seeds of discord, and to introduce anarchy
and confusion among the uosi-a j' heaven. So
that the passion of pride, when cherished in tlie
soul as the governing principle of action, is utter-
ly incompatible wnn our admission into the re-
gions of harmony and love.

Let me ask the man in whose heart pride and
haughtiness predominate, if he really imagines that
he can be a candidate for a glorious and immortal
existence? Does he not at once perceive the
inconsistency of such a thought with the dictates
of reason, and the nature of future felicity? — Of

90

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

what has he any reason to be proud? Is lie proud
of liis birth? of )ns an:esiors? of his icealth? of
h\s station? of his beauty? of his personal accom-
plishments? of his (jallantry? of his debaucheries?
of his military prowess? or of the thousands of
human bcinc/s he has slain in battle? Is he proud
of his skill ill music, iu dancing, in fencing, in
fox-hunting, and in gambling? of his knowledge
in languages, in literature, in arts and sciences?
Or is he i)roud that he is subjected to the asthma,
the gravel, the dropsy, and the gout, that his fu-
neral will be attended by a traiu of mourners,
and that a monument of marble will bo erected
to his memory, when his carcass is putrefying
■with the reptiles of the dust? Suppose he were
admitted into the celestial mansions — which of
all these topics would he choose for the theme of
his conversation, and the ground of his boasting?
Would he attempt to entertain the cherubim and
the seraphim, by telling them how many rude
chieftains he was descended from, how many
ancient families ho was connected with, and how
many acres of land he possessed as a patrimony
in that wretched world which is soon to be wrapt
in flames? Would he tell them of his expertness
as a marksman, of his dexterity as a horse-racer,
of his adroitness as a boxer, of his skill in ma-
neuvering an army, of the villages ho has burned,
of the towns he had pillaged, or of the thousands
he had butchered in storming a city? — He would
be overwhelmed with shouts of indignation, and
instantly hissed from their abodes. — Would he
boast of his skill in languages and antiquities, or
of his knowledge in arts and sciences? What a
poor iynoiam.us ( if I may use the expression),
would he appear in the presence of Gabriel, the
angel of God, who has so frequently winged his
way, in a few hours, from heaven to earth, and
surveyed the regions of unnumbered worlds!
Would a poor worm of the earth, whose view is
confined within a few miles around it, boast of its
knowledge in the presence of beings endowed
with such capacious powers, and who have
ranged over so vast a portion of the universe of
God? And, if he has nothing else to boast of,
why is he proud? What a pitiful figure he would
make among the intelligent and adoring hosts of
heaven! While such a disposition, therefore,
predominates in the mind, its possessor cah enjoy
no substantial felicity either in this life or iu the
life to come.

On the other hand, the man, who, like his Re-
deemer, is " meek and lowly in heart," has " the
witness in himself," that he has obtained the ap-
probation of his God, that he is assimilated to
angelic beings in his temper and affections, that
he has the principle of eternal life implanted in
his soul, and that he is in some measure qualified
for joining in the exercises, and enjoying the fe-
licity of the heavenly state. " For thus saith the
high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose
name is holy; I dwell iu the high and holy place,
— with him also that is of a contrite and humble
epirif, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to
revive the heart of the contrite ones."

4. Active beneficence, with all its accompanying
virtues, is another characteristic of the man who
IS training for the heavenly inheritance. Wherever
the principle of love to God and man, and the
grace of humility are in exercise, they will uni-
formly lead the individual who is under their
influence to "abound in the fruits of righteous-
ness,"and to use every active endeavor to promote
the comfort and happiness of mankind. He will
endeavor, as far as his power and influence ex-
tend, to relieve the wants of the poor, the father-

less and the widow, to soothe the disconsolate, t«
comfort the afflicted, to shelter the houseless and
benighted traveler, to instruct the ignorant, and
to meliorate the moral and physical condition of
every rank of society. He will patronize every
scheme which has for its object to remove the
evils which exist in the social state — to increase
the comforts of mankind — to improve the soil-
to facilitate human labor — to clear away nuisances
from the habitations of men — to promote order,
cleanliness, and domestic enjoyment — to train the
minds of the young to knowledge and virtue — to
introduce improvement in the mechanical arts,
and to diff'use useful science among all ranks^
Above all things he will endeavor, iu so far as his
station and opportunities permit, to promote the
spiritual improvement and the eternal happiness
of mankind, and will study to render all his other
exertions subservient to the attainment of this
most interesting and momentous object. In con-
tributing to the accomplishment of this end, he
will give his countenance and support to every
institution, and to every rational scheme which is
calculated to promote the knowledge of the scrip-
tures of truth, throughout our own country, and
in other lands, and to make known " the salva-
tion of God" over all the earth. — In such benevo-
lent exertions he will persevere, even in the face
of every species of opposition, obloquy, and re-
proach, through the whole course of his existence
in this world, until death transport him to a nobler
sphere of action and enjoyment.

The necessity of acquiring habits of active
beneficence, iu order to our preparation for the
felicity of the future world, will appear, if we
consider, that heaven is a social state, and that a
considerable portion of its happiness will consist
in the mutual interchange of benevolent afFectioua
and beneficent actions. There will, indeed, be no
poor and distressed objects to be relieved and
comforted, no sorrows to be alleviated, and no
physical nor moral evils to be counteracted; for, in
the New Jerusalem there "shall be no more death,
neither sorrow norcryiug,neithershall there be any
more pain, for the former things shall have pas-
sed away, and God shall wipe away all tears from
their eyes." But its inhabitants will be forever
employed in acts of beneficence toward each
other, corresponding to their dignified stations,
and the circumstances in which they are placedi.
This is evident from the very nature of Love,
which peiTades the hearts of the whole of that
" multitude which no man can number." Love
can be manifested only by its effects, or by those
external acts of kindness and benignity which
tend to communicate happiness to others; and,
there can be no doubt, that, in a thousand ways
incomprehensible to us, the inhabitants of the
upper world will be the means of diffusing ec-
static delight through the bosoms of surrounding
intelligences, which will form a part of that joy
which is "unspeakable and full of glorj'." The
sympathetic feelings they will express for each
other, both in respect to their former and their
present condition, the interest they will take in
listening to each other's history, the scenes of fe-
licity to which they will conduct each other, the
noble and enrapturing subjects of conversation
with which they will entertain one another, the
objects of beauty and sublimity to which they
will direct each other's attention, the lectures on
divine subjects, which the more capacious and
exalted spirits among them may deliver to their
younger brethreii of " the church of the first-
born," and the intelligence from distant worlds
which the seraphim may communicate on return-

FOLLY OF PRIDE.

91

lag from their embassies of love to other regions —
muy form a part of those beneficent services, into
which every iniiabitant of tiiat world will engage
with peculiar pleasure. To communicate hap-
piness in every possible mode, to make surround-
ing associates exult with joy, and to stimulate
them to celebrate the praises of the "Giver of all
Good," will be their unceasing desire and their
everlasting delight.

We have every reason to believe, that a vast
system of universal Benevolence is going on
throughout the universe of God, and that it is the
grand object of his moral government to distri-
bute happiness among unnumbered worlds. In
prosecuting this object, he employs created in-
telligences, as his ministers in accomplishing his
designs, and for communicating enjoyment to
each other. With respect to the angels, we are
informed by Paul, that "they are all ministeriny
spirits, sent forth to minister to them who shall be
heirs of salvation." Hence we learn from sacred
history, that they delivered Peter from the fury
of Herod and the Jewish rulers, — Daniel from the
ravenous lions — Lot from the destruction of So-
dom, and Jacob from the hands of Esau ; that
they strengthened and refreshed Elijah in the
wilderness, comforted Daniel when covered with
sackcloth and ashes, directed Joseph and Mary in
their journey to Egypt, and Cornelius to Peter,
to receive the knowledge of salvation ; that they
communicated "good tidings of great joy" to Za-
charias the father of John the Baptist, to the Virgin
Marj> and to the shepherds in the plains of Bethle-
hem, and consoled the hearts of the disconsolate
disciples, by proclaiming the resurrection of their
Lord and Master; — and we have reason to con-
clude, that such ministrations are appointed to
be continued throughout all the periods of time.

It is not improbable that the spirits of just men
trade perfect are likewise occasionally employed
In similar services. When the vision of the New
Jerusalem was exhibited to John by a celestial
messenger, he " fell down to worship before the
feet of the messenger, who showed him these
things." But the messenger forbade him, saying,
— " See thou do it not; for I am thy fellow-servant,
and of thy brethren the prophets, and of them that
keep (or are interested in) the sayings of this
book." These words would naturally lead us to
conclude, that this messenger was a departed
saint, since he designates himself a brother, a
prophet, and a fellow-servant. Perhaps it was the
spirit of Moses, of David, of Isaiah, of Jeremiah,
or of Daniel, who would account it an honor to
be employed in such a service by their exalted
Lord. But whether or not such a supposition
may be admitted, certain it is, that the saints will
hereafter be employed in active beneficent ser-
vices, in concert with other holy beings, so long
as their existence endures. For they are consti-
tuted " Kings and Priests to the God and Father
of our Lord Jesus Christ," and are "workers to-
gether with God," in carrying forward the plans
of his government.

Since, then, it appears, that the inhabitants of
heaven are incessantly employed in acts of be-
neficence, the habit of beneficence which is
acquired in this world, along with its accompany-
ing virtues, may be considered as a preparation and
a qualification for that more extensive sphere of
moral action into which the saints shall be intro-
duced, when they wing their way from this
earthly ball to the regions above. And, conse-
quently, those who never engage in " works of
faith and labors of love," and who are governed
t»y a principle of selfishness in the general tenor

of their conduct, must be considered as unquali-
fied for taking a part in the benevolent employ-
ments of the celestial world.*

Let us now consider for a little, the happiness
which must flow from an association with intelli-
gent beings animated with the sublime principles
and lioly dispositions to which I have now ad-
verted.

In the present world, one of the principal
sources of misery, arises from the malevolent dis-
positions, and immoral conduct of its inhabitants.
Pride, ambition, malignant passions, falsehood, de-
ceit, envy, and revenge, which exercise a sover-
eign sway over the hearts of the majority of man-
kind— have produced more misery and devastation
among the human race, than the hurricane and
the tempest, the earthquake and the volcano, and
all the other concussions of the elements of nature.
The lust o{ ambition has covered kingdoms with
sackcloth and ashes, leveled cities with the ground,
turned villages into heaps of smoking ruins, trans-
formed fertile fields into a wilderness, polluted the
earth with human gore, slaughtered thousands
and millions of human beings, and filled the onco
cheerful abodes of domestic life, with the sounds
of weeping, lamentation, and woe. Injustice and
violence have robbed society of its rights and
privileges, and the widow and fatherless of
their dearest enjoyments. Superstition and re-
venge have immolated their millions of victims,
banished peace from the world, and subverted the
order of society. The violation of truth in con-
tracts, affirmations, and promises, has involved na-
tions in destruction, undermined the foundations
of public prosperity, blasted the good name and
the comfort of families, perplexed and agitated
the minds of thousands and millions, and thrown
contempt on the revelations of heaven, and the
discoveries of science. Malice, envy, hatred, and
similar afF>ctions, have stirred up strifes and con-
tentions, which have invaded the peace of individ-
uals, families, and societies, and imbittered all
their enjo3'ments. It is scarcely too much to affirm
that more than nine-tenths of all the evils, perplex-
ities, and sorrows, which are the lot of suffering
humanity, are owing to the wide and extensive
operation of such diabolical principles and pas-
sions.

What a happiness, then, must it be, to mingle
in a society where such malignant affections shall
never more shed their baleful influence, and
where love, peace, and harmony, mutual esteem,
brotherly-kindness and charity, are forever trium-
phant! To depart from a world where selfish-
ness and malignity, strife and dissensions, wars
and devastations so generally prevail, and to en-
ter upon a scene of enjoyment where the smiles of
benevolence beam from the countenances of un-
numbered glorious intelligences, must raise in the
soul the most ecstatic rapture, and be the ground-
work of all those other "pleasures which are at
God's right hand for evermore." — Even in this
world, amidst the physical evils which now exist,
what a scene of felicity would be produced, were
all the illustrious philanthropic characters now
living, or which have adorned our race in the
ages that are past, to be collected into one soci-
ety, and to associate exclusively, without annoy-

* This subject might have been illustrated at greatef
lengtli; but as the author has already had occasion to enter
into a minute discussion of the principles of moral action,
and their relation to the inhabitants of all worlds, in bis
work on "The Philosophy of Religion,' — he refers his read-
ers to that treatise, for a more ample elucidation of tbo
several topics, to which he has briefly adverted in the pre-
ceding; pages — particularly to Chap. I, throughout; Chap. II,
Sections 'i, 4, 5,6, 8, and the General Conclusions.

92

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

ance from "the world that licth in vinckedness!"
Let us suppose a vast society composed of such
characters as Moses, Elijah, Jeremiah, Daniel,
Paul, James, and John, the Evangelists, men who
accounted it their highest honor to glorify God,
and to promote the salvation of mankind, — such
philanthropists as Howard, Clarkson, Venning, and
Sharpe, who displayed the most henignaut ulFec-
tions, and spent their mortal existence in unwearied
efforts to meliorate the condition of the prisoner,
and relieve the distresses of the wretched in every
land — to deliver the captive from his oppressors —
to unloose the shackles of slavery — to pour light
and vital air into the noisome dungeon, and to
diffuse blessings among mankind wherever they
were found; — such profound philosophers a^
Locke, Newton, and Boyle, wiiose capacious in-
tellects seemed to embrace tlie worlds both of mat-
ter and of minJ, and who joined to their mental
accomplishments, modesty, humility, equanimity
of temper, and general benevolence; — such ami-
able divines as Watts, Doddridge, Bates, Hervey,
Edwards, Lardner, and Dwight, whose hearts
burned with zeal to promote the glory of their Di-
vine Master, and to advance the present and ever-
lasting interest of their fellow-men. To associate
perpetually with such characters, even with the
imperfections and infirmities which cleaved to
them in this sublunary region, would form some-
thing approaching to a paradise on earth.

But, let us suppose such characters divested of
every moral and mental imperfection, endowed
with every holy principle and virtue that can
adorn a created intelligence, and with capacious
intellectual powers in vigorous and incessant exer-
cise, dsvelling in a world where every natural evil
is removed, where scenes of glory meet the eye
at every step, and where boundless prospects
stretch before the view of the enraptured mind.
Let us farther suppose, intelligences invested with
faculties far more energetic and sublime — v\?ho
have ranged through the immensity of creation,
who have mingled with the inhabitants of ten
thousand worlds, who have learned the history of
the divine dispensations in relation to them all, and
who are inspired with every amiable and benig-
nant feeling, and with humility, love and conde-
scension;— let us suppose ambassadors of this de-
scription, from numerous worlds, occasionally
joining this celestial society, and "rehearsing the
mighty acts of Jehovah," as displaj-ed in the re-
gions from whence they came, — let us suppose,
" the man Christ Jesus" president among them, in
the effulgence of his glory, and unfolding his
peerless excellencies to every eye, — let us suppose
these glorious beings engaged in conversations,
contemplations, investigations, thanksgivings, ado-
rations, and beneficent services, corresponding to
the magnificence of the region in which they re-
side, and to the dignity of their natures — and we
have a faint picture of tlie social enjoyments of
the celestial world. This is the society of heaven,
the general assembly of the church triumphant,
for which we must now be inspired with a divine
relish and for which we must now be prepared in
the temper and disposition of our minds, if we ex-
pect to be hereafter admitted into that "house not
made with hands which is eternal in the hea-
vens."

O blessea and glorious society! Where no con-
tentions ever arise, where no malignant spirit in-
terrupts the universal harmony, wiiere no malevo-
lent affection is ever displayed, where no provoca-
tion disturbs the serenity of the mind, where not
one revengeful thought arisen against the most de-
praved inl abitant of the uiiivefse, where a single

falsehood is never uttered, where folly, imperti-
nence and error never intrude, whore no frown
sits lowering on the countenance, and no cloud
ever intercepts the sunshine of benevolence! —
where " Holiness to tho Lord" is inscribed on
every heart, where every member is knit to ano-
ther by the indissoluble bonds of affection and
esteem, where a friendship is commenced which
sliall never be dissolved, where love glows in every
bosom, and benignity beams from every counte-
nance, where moral excellence is displayed in its
most sublime, and diversified, and transpoiting
forms, where a " multitude which no man can
number, from all nations, and kindreds, and peo-
ple, and tongues," join in unison with angels, and
archangels, principalities and powers, in swelling
the song of salvation to Him that sits upon the
throne, and to the Lamb that was slain, forever
and ever! — ye glorious hosts of heaven, who min-
ister to the heirs of salvation on earth! Ye re-
deemed inhabitants from our world, "who came
out of great tribulation, and are now before the
throne of God, and serve him day and night in
his temple!" we long to join your blessed society.
You dwell amidst scenes of magnificence and the
splendors of eternal day; — you are forever secure
from sin and sorrow, and every evil annoyance; —
your joys are uninterrupted, ever increasing, and
ever new; — your prospects are boundless as the
universe, and your dur.ation permanent as the
throne of the Eternal! — V/e dwell "in houses of
clay whose foundation is in the dust:" — we so-
journ in "a land of pits and snares," and within
" the region of the shadow of death:" we walk
amidst scenes of sorrow and suffering, surrounded
by " the tents of strife," and exposed to the mal-
ice of "lying lips and deceitful tongues!" From
our earthly prison, to which we are now chained
as " prisoners of hope," we lift up our eyes to
your happy mansions, with longing desires, and ex-
claim, "0 that v/e had the wings of a seraph, that we
might fly away to your blissful seats and be at
rest!" We long to join "the general assembly
and church of the first born, which are written in
heaven — the spirits of just men made perfect — the
innumerable company of angels — Jesus the Medi-
ator of the new covenant, and God the Judge of
all."

May the Father of all mercies, who hath begot-
ten us to the lively hope of an incorruptible inhe
ritance, grant that we may persevere in the Chris-
tian course, be kept from falling, be "guarded by
his almighty power, through faith unto salva-
tion," and that in due time, "an entrance may be
abundantly administered to us into the everlasting
kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ."
To whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.

From this subject to which our attention has
now been directed, we may learn, what will con-
stitute one bitter ingredient in the punishment
that awaits the wicked in the future world. As
the principle of love, which pervades the minds of
the inhabitants of heaven, with the diversified
ramifications into which it diverges, forms the
groundwork of all the other enjoyments of the ce-
lestial world, — so the principle of malignity which
predominates in the hearts of the wicked, will be
the source of the greater part of that misery they
are doomed to suffer in the eternal state. — "W«
cannot form a more dreadful picture of future
punishment than by conceiving the principles of
falsehood, deceit, and malignity, and the passions
of pride, hatred, malice, and revenge, raging with
uncontrolled and perpetual violence. We need
represent to ourselves nothing more horrible in

EXAMPLES OF MALIGNITY.

93

the place of punishment, than by supposing the
Almighty simply permitting wicked men to give
full scope to their malevolent dispositions; leaving
them 'to eat of the fruit of their own ways, and
to be filled with their own devices.' The effects
produced by the uncontrolled operation of such
principles and passions, would be such as may be
fitly represented by the emblems of the 'worm that
never dies,' of ' devouring fire,' and of their neces-
sary concomitants, ' weeping and wailing and
gnashing of teetli.' " *

In order to illustrate this sentifuent, and to im-
press it more deeply upon the mind of Ihe reader,
I shall select two or three facts in relation to cer-
tain characters whose names stand conspicuous in
the annals of history.

Every reader of history is acquainted with the
character and actions of Antiochus Epiphanes,
whose name stands so high on the rolls of impiety
and crime. Having besieged the city of Jerusa-
lem, he took it by storm, and during the three
days it was abaiuloned to the fury of the soldiers,
he caused forty thousandf men to be inhumanly
butchered: he exercised every species of cruelty
upon the citizens, and unmercifully put to death
all those who fell into his hands, and whom he
considered as his enemies. He dispatched Ap-
pollonius at the head of 22,000 men, with orders
to plunder all the cities of Judea, to murder all
the men, and sell the women and children for
slaves. He accordingly came with his army, and
to outward appearance, with a peaceable inten-
tion; neither was he suspected by the Jews, as he
was superintendent of the tribute in Palestine.
He kept himself inactive until the next Sabbath,
\rneii tney were all in a profound quiet, and then,
on a sudden, began the work of slaughter. He
sent a portion of his men to the temple and syna-
gogues, with orders to cut to pieces all who were
found in these places of resort ; while the rest
going through the streets of the city, massacred
all who came in their way. He next ordered the
city to be plundered and set on fire, pulled dow"
all their stately buildings, and carried away cap-
tive ten thousand of those who had escaped the
elaughter. Not yet satisfied, with the blood of
the Jews, Antiochus resolved either totally to
abolish their religion, or to destroy their whole
race. He issued a decree that all nations within
his dominions should forsake their old religion
and gods, and worship those of the king, under
the most severe penalties. He dedicated the tem-
ple at Jerusalem to Jupiter Olympus, and set up
his own statue on the altar of burnt-ofFcring; and
all who refused to come and worship this idol
were either massacred or put to some cruel tor-
tures, until they either complied or expired under
the hands of the executioners. He put to death
Eleazar, one of the most illustrious of the Jews, a
venerable old man, ninety years of age, and a
doctor of the law, "whose life had been one con-
tinued series of .spotless innocence," and his
execution was accompanied with the most cruel
torments. He seized the seven brothers commonly
called the Maccabees, along with their mother,
and caused them to be scourged in a most inhu-
man manner, in order to compel them to swallow
swine's flesh, which their law forbade, and when
they refused, he was so exasperated that he ordered
brazen pans and cauldrons to be heated; and, when
they were red, he caused the tongue of the eldest
to be cut off — had the skin torn from his head,
and the extremities of his hands and feet cut off.

* Philosophy of Religion, pp.42 — 44.
t Rollin states the namber at 80,000.

before his mother and his brethren. After being
mutilated, ho was brought c'ose to the fire, ana
fried in the pan. Tho secoivj brother was then
taken, and, after the hair of his head, with the
skin, was torn away, he was tortured in the same
manner as his elder brother; and in like manner
were the other five brethren put to death, — tho
last of whom, who was the youngest, he caused to
be tortured more grievously than the rest. Last
of all the mother also suffered death.*

Hearing, some time afterward, that the Jews
had revolted, he assembled all his troops, which
formed a mighty army, and determined to destroy
the whole Jewish nation, and to settle other peo-
ple in their country. He commanded Lysias, one
of his generals, to extirpate them root and branch,
so as not to leave one Hebrew in the country.
When in Persia advice was brought him of the de-
feat of Lysias, and that the Jews had retaken the
temple, thrown down the altars and idols which
he had set up, and re-established their ancient
worship. At this news his fury rose to madness. In
the violence of his rage, he set out with all possible
expedition, like an infernal fiend, venting nothing
bat inenaces on his march, and breathing only
final ruin and destruction to every inhabitant of
Judea, and to all that appertained to them. H©
commanded his coachman to drive with the ut-
most speed, that no time might bo lost for fully
satiating his vengeance, threatening at the same
time, with horrid imprecations, to make Jerusa-
lem the burying-place of the whole Jewish na-
tion, and not to leave one single inhabitant within
its confines. But the Almighty, against whose
providence he was raging, interposed, and stopped
him in his wild career. "He was seized," says
Rollin, "with incredible pains in his bowels, and
the most excessive pangs of the colic." Still, his
pride and fury were not abated: he suffered him-
self to be hurried away by the wild transport of his
rage, and breathing nothing but vengeance against
the land of Judea and its inhabitants, he gave
orders to proceed with still greater celerity in his
journey. But as his horses were running forward
impetuously, he fell from his chariot, and bruised
every part of his body in so dreadful a manner,
that he suffered inexpressible torments; and soon
alter finished an impious life by a miserable
death.

The Turks, in their wars with neighboring
states, both in former and present times, have
been proverbial for the malevolence they have dis-
played, and the cruelties they have exercised
toward their enemies. The following is only one
instance out of a thousand which might be pro-
duced, of the desperate length to which human
beings will proceed in treachery and in the inflic-
tion of torment, when under the influence of a
principle of malignity.

In the war with Turkey and the states of Venice,
about the year 1571, the Venetians were besieged
by the Turks in the city of Famagosta, in the
island of Cyprus. Through famine and want of
ammunition, the Venetian garrison was compel-
led to enter upon terms of capitulation. A treaty
was accordingly set on foot, and hostages ex-
changed. The following terms were agreed
to by both parties: — That the officers and sol-
diers should march out with all the honors of
war, drums beating, colors flying, five pieces of
cannon, all their baggage, and be conveyed in
safety to Candia, under an escort of three Turk-
ish gallies; and that the inhabitants should re-

• The details of these shocking cruelties may be seen in
Rollin's Ancient History, vol. 7.

9-4

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

main in the free use of their religion, untouched
in their property, and in full possession of their
freedom. Next day Bragadino, the Venetian
commander, went to pay his compliments to
Mustapha, the Turkish general, attended by
some of his chief officers. At first tliey met
with a civil reception, Mustapha ordering a
seat to be placed for Bragadino on his own right
hand.

They soon entered into discourse about the
prisoners, and Mustapha tixing Bragadino witli
some violences committed by the garrison during
tiie suspension granted for settling a capitulation,
Bragadino, with a generous disdain, denied the
charge. Upon which Mustapha, rising up in a
fury, ordered him to be bound hand and foot, and
the others to be massacred before his face, witli-
out regard to hospitality, their bravery, the treaty
subsisting, or their being unarmed.

Bragadino was reserved for a more cruel treat-
ment: after being insulted with the most vilifying
and opprobrious language ; after undergoing the
most excruciating tortures ; after having his ears,
nose, and lips slit, his neck was stretclied upon a
block, and trampled upon by the dastardly Mus-
tapha, who asked him where was now that Christ
whom he worshiped, and why he did not deliver him
out of his hands? At the same time the soldiers
on board the fleet were despoiled of everything.
and lashed to the oars. Tiiis day's work being
finished, Mustapha entered the city, where he
gave immediate orders, that Tiepolo, a person of
high rank and authority, should be hanged upon
a gibbet. A few days after, before Bragadino had
recovered from the wounds he had received, he
was carried in derision to all the breaches made
in the walls, loaded with buckets filled with earth
and mortar, and ordered to kiss the ground as of-
ten as he passed by Mustapha, a spectacle that
raised pangs of pity in the callous hearts of the
meanest Turkish soldiers, but could not move
compassion in the obdurate breast of Mustapha.
Afterward, the brave Bragadino was cooped up in
a cage, and ignominiously hung to a sail-yard in
one of the gallies, where his intrepid soldiers were
chained to the oars. This sight rendered them
almost furious : they exclaimed against the base-
ness, the treachery of Mustapha; they called aloud
for revenge, and desired to be set at liberty, that
they might, even without arms, rescue th<!-ir
brave general, and inflict the deserved punish-
ment upon their mean, dastardly, and cowardly
foes. Their request was answered with cruel
lashes; Bragadino was taken down; conducted to
the market-place, amidst the din of trumpets,
drums, and other warlike instruments, where he
vas Jlayed alive, and a period put to his glorious
life. His skin was hung, by way of trophy, to the
sail-yard of a galley sent round all the coasts to
insult the Venetians. His head, with those of
Andrea Bragadino, his brother, Lodovico I\Iarti-
nenga, and the brave Quirino, were sent as pre-
sents to Selim the Turkish Emperor.*

Could an infernal fiend have devised more ex-
cruciating tortures, or have acted with greater
baseness and malignity than this treacherous and
cruel monster? What a horrible thing would it
be to oe subjected to the caprice and under the
control of such a proud and vindictive spirit every
day, only for a year, much more for hundreds
and thousands of years! A group of such spirits
giving vent to their malevolent passions without
control, are sufficient to produce a degree of
misery among surrounding intelligences, surpas-

• 3ee "Modem Universal History," vol. 27, pp. 405, 406.

sing everything that the human mind, in the pre-
sent state, can possibly conceive.

When the Norman barons and chevaliers, un-
der William the Conqueror, had obtained posses-
sion of England, they displayed the most cruel
and malignant disjjosilions toward the native in-
habitants. They afflicted and harassed them in
every state, forcing them to work at the bwilding
of their castles; and when the castles were fin-
ished, they placed on them a garrison of wicked
ani tliabolical men. They seized all whom they
thought to possess anything — men and women—
by day and night; they carried them off"; impri-
soned them; and, to obtain from them gold or silver,
inflicted on them tortures such as no martyrs ever
unJei-went. 'Some they suspended by their feet,
with their heads hanging in smoke; others were
hung by the thumb, with fire under their feet
They pressed the heads of some by a leathern
thong, so as to break, the bones, and crush the
briiin ; others were thrown into ditches full of
snakes, toads, and other reptiles ; others were put
in the chambre a crucit. This was the name
given in the Norman tongue to a sort of chest,
short, strait, and shallow, lined with sharp stones,
into which the sulFcrer was crammed to the dis-
location of his limbs. — In most of the castles
was a horrible and frightful engine used for put-
ting to the torture. This was a bundle of chains
so heavy that two or three men could hardly lift
them. The unfortunate person upon whom they
were laid, was kept on his feet by an iron collar
fixed in a post, and could neither sit, nor lie, nor
sleep. They made many thousands die of hun-
ger. They laid tribute Upon tribute on the towns
and villages. When the towns-people had no
longer anything to give, they plundered and
burned the town. You might have traveled a
whole day without finding one soul in the towns,
or in' the country one cultivated field. The poor
died of hunger, and they who had formerly pos-
sessed something, now begged their bread .'jcra
door to door. Never were more griefs and woes
poured upon any land; — nay the Pagans, in their
invasions, caused fewer than the men of whom I
now speak. They, spared neither the church-
yards, nor the churches; they took all that could
be taken, and then set fire to the church. To till
the ground had been as vain as to till the sand on
the seashore.*

What scenes of wretchedness do such proud
and malignant demons produce even in the present
world! Can such spirits be supposed qualified for
joining the general assembly and church of the
first-born, and for taking a part in the beneficent
operations of heaven? If they exist at all in a
future world, they must exist in misery; and so
long as such diabolical passions continue to rage,
they must produce " lamentation and woe" among
all the associates with which they are surrounded.
— Even within the confines of mortality, the man
who is under tho despotic sway of pride, ambition,,
and similar malevolent passions, imbitters every
enjoyment he might otherwise possess, produces
pain in the minds of others, and experiences in
his own soul pangs similar in kind to those which
are felt in the place of punishment. I shall illus
trate this position by the spirit and temper displayed
by two illustrious individuals who have lately de-
parted to the invisible state; — the one renowned
in the political, the other in the literary world.

The first character to which I allude is that of
Napoleon Buonaparte. This extraordinary man,

1825.

' Thierry's " History of the Norman Conquest," 3 vols..

EXAMPLES OF MALIGNITY.

95

who for nearly twenty years dazzled tlie whole
Eastern hemisphere, like a blazing meteor, ap-
pears to have been actuated by the most extrava-
gant and restless ambition. Though he exercised
many cruelties in the midst of his career, as at
Jaffa and other places, yet delight in deeds of
atrocity formed no part of his ruling passion, and
were only occasionally resorted to, in order to ac-
complish his ambitious projects. Tho agitated
state of mind into which he was thrown by his
love of conquest, and the daring enterprises in
which he embarked, is strikingly depicted by M.
Segur, in his " History of Napoleon's Expeciition
to Russia." When at Vitepsk, on his way to
Moscow, M. Segur says — " He at first hardly
appeared bold enough to confess to himself a pro-
ject of such great temerity — [the marching against
Moscow]. But by degrees he assumed courage
to look it in the face. He then began to delibei--
ate, and the state of great irresolution which
tormented his mind, affected his whole frame. He
was observed to wander about his apartments, as
if pursued by some dangerous temptation : no-
thing could rivet his attention; he every moment
began, quitted, and resumed his labor; he walked
about without any object; inquired the hour, and
looked at his watch; — completely absorbed, he
stopped, hummed a tune with an absent air, and
again began walking about. In the midst of his
perplexity, he occasionally addressed the persons
whom he met with such half sentences as ' Well
— What shall we do! — Shall we stay where we
are, or advance? — How is it possible to stop short
in the midst of so glorious a career?' He did not
wait for their reply, but still kept wandering
about, as if he waslooking for something, or some-
body, to terminate his indecision. — At length,
quite overwhelmed with the weight of such an
important consideration, and oppressed with so
great an uncertainty, he would throw himself on
one of the beds which he had caused to be laid
on the floor of his apartments. His frame, ex-
hausted by the heat and the struggles of his mind,
could only bear a covering of the slightest tex-
ture. It was in that state tliat he passed a portion
of his day at Vitepsk."

The same restless agitations seemed to have
accompanied him at every step in this daring ex-
pedition. " At Borodino," says the same writer,
"his anxiety was so great as to prevent him from
sleeping. He kept calling incessantly to know the
hour, inquiring if any noise was heard, and send-
ing persons to ascertain if the enemy was still
before him. — Tranquillized for a few moments,
anxiety of an opposite description again seized
him. He became frightened at the destitute state
of the soldiers, &c. He sent for Bessi^res, that
one of his marshals in whom he had the greatest
confidence: — he called him back several times,
and repeated his pressing questions, &c. Dread-
ing that his orders had not been obeyed, he got
up once more, and questioned the grenadiers on
guard at the entrance of his tent, if they had
received their provisions. Satisfied with the
answer, he went in, and soon fell into a doze.
Shortly after he called once more. His aid-de-
camp found him now supporting his head with
both his hands ; he seemed, by what was over-
heard, to be meditating on tlic vanities of glnry.
—'What is war? A trade of barbarians, t)te whole
art of which consists in being the strongest on a
gitjen point.'' He then complained of tlie fickle-
ness of fortune, which he now began to ex-
perience. He again tried to take some rest. But
the marches he had just made with the army, the
fatigues of the preceding days and nights, so

many cares, and his intense and anxious exf)ec-
tations, had worn him out. An irritating fever,
a di-y cough, and excessive thirsf consumed him
During the remainder of the nigh I he made vain
attempts tp quench the burning thirst that con-
sumed him."

What man that ever enjoyed the pleasures of
tranquillity, would envy such a state of mind as
that which has now been described, although the
individual were surrounded with every earthly
glory? Such mad ambition as that which raged in
the breast of this singular personage, must be a
perpetual torment to its possessor, in whatever re-
gion of the universe he exists, and must produce
baleful effects on every one within the sphere of
its influence. — The coolness with which such
characters calculate on the destruction of human
life, and the miseries which their lawless passions
produce on their fellow-creatures, appears in the
following extract.

"He asked Rapp, if he thought we should gain
the victory? • No doubt,' was the reply, ' but it
will be sanguniary.' 'I know it,' resumed Napo-
leon, 'but I have 80,000 men; I shall lose 20,000;
I shall enter Moscow with 60,000 the stragglers
will then rejoin us, and afterward the battalions on
the march; and we shall be stronger than we
were before the battle.' "

The other personage to whom I allude is Lord
Byron.

The following sketches of his character are ta-
ken ffom "Recollections of the life of Lord Byron,
from the year 1808 to the year 1818. Taken from
authentic documents, &c. by R. C. Dallas, Esq."

"He reduced his palate," says Mr. Dallas, "to a
diet the most simple and abstemious — but the pas-
sions of his heart were too mighty; nor did it
ever enter his mind to overcome them. Resent-
ment, anger, and hatred, held full sway over him;
and his greatest gratification at that time, was in
overcharging his pen with gall, which flowed in
every direction, against individuals, his country,
the world, the universe, creation, and the Creator.
— Misanthropy, disgust of life, leading to skepti-
cism and impiety, prevailed in his heart, and imbit-
tered his existence. Unaccustomed to female so-
ciety, he at once dreaded and abhorred it. As for
domestic happiness he had no idea of it. 'A large
family,' he said, ' appeared like opposite ingredi-
ents, mixed per force in the same salad, and I ne-
ver relished the composition.' He was so com-
pletely disgusted with his relations, especially
the female part of them, that he completely
avoided them. ' I consider,' said he, * collat-
eral ties as the work of prejudice, and not the
bond of the heart, which must choose for itself
unshackled.' — In correspondence with such dispo-
sitions and sentiments, 'he talked of his relation
to the Earl of Carlisle with indignation.' Hav-
ing receiA'ed from him a frigid letter, ' he deter-
mined to lash his relation with all the gall he
could throw into satire.' — He declaimed against
the ties of consanguinity, and abjured even the
society of his sister, from which he entirely with-
drew himself, until after the publication of 'Childe
Harold,' when at length he yielded to my persua-
sionB, and made advances to a friendly correspond-
ence."

Here we have a picture of an individual in whom
" resentment, anger, ana hatred," reigned with-
out control: who could vent his rage even against
the Creator, and the universe he had formed, who
hated his fellow-creatures, and even his own ex-
istence; who spurned at the ties of relationship,
and "abjured even the society of his sister." What
horrible mischiefs and miseries would a charactei

9G

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

of this description produce, were such malevo-
lent passions to rago with unbounded violence,
without being checked by those restraints, which
human laws impose in the present state!

I shall state only another example of this de-
Bcription, taken from Captain Cochrane's "Trav-
els in Russia." — On arriving at the Prussian fron-
tiers, says the captain, "My passport demanded,
myself interrogated by a set of whiskered ruf-
fians, obliged to move from one guard to ano-
ther, the object of sarcasm and official tyranny,
I wanted no inducement, fatigued as I was, to pro-
ceed on my journey, but even this was not per-
mitted me. A large public room, full of military
rubbish, and two long benches serving as chairs,
to an equally long table, were the place and furni-
ture allotted me. I asked the landlord for supper;
he laughed at me; and to my demand of a bed,
grinninyly pointed to the floor, and refused me
even a portion of the straw which had been brought
in for the soldiers. Of all the demons that ever
existed, or have been imagined inhuman shape, I
thought the landlord of the inn the blackest. The
figure of Gil Peres, occurred to me, but it sunk in
comparison with the wretch then before me for
ill-nature, malignity, and personal hideousness.
His face half covered with a black beard, and large
bristly whiskers, his stature below the common,
his head sunk between his shoulders to make room
for the protuberance of his back; his eyes buried
in the ragged locks of his lank grisly hair; — added
to this a club foot, and a voice which, on every
attempt to speak, was like the shrieking of a
screech-owl, — and you have some faint idea of
this mockery of a man." — Here, we have presented
to view a human being, who, in the malignity of
his mind, and in the conformation of his body,
bears a certain resemblance to those wretched beings
in whose breasts benevolence never glows, and in
whose dwellings nothing is seen but the most hag-
gard and deformed objects, and nothing heard but
horrid imprecations, and the sounds of woe.

Let us now suppose, for a moment, a vast as-
semblage of beings of the description to which I
have adverted, collected in a dark and dreary
region. Let us suppose many thousands of mil-
lions of such characters as Nero, who set fire to
Rome, that he might amuse himself with the
wailings and lamentations which this calamity
inspired, and insulted Heaven by offering thanks-
givings to the gods, after murdering his wife and
his mother, — Tiberius, who delighted in torturing
his subjects, and massacring them in the most
tormenting and cruel manner, — Caligula, cele-
brated in the annals of folly, cruelty, and impiety,
who murdered many of his subjects with his own
hand, and causec^ thousands who were guilty of
no crimes to be cruelly butchered, — Antiachus
Epiphanes, who butchered forty thousand of the
inhabitants of Jerusalem in cold blood, and rushed
forward, like an infernal demon, with the inten-
tion of destroying every inhabitant of Judea, —
Hamilcar, who threw all the prisoners that came
into his hand, to be devoured by wild beasts, —
Asdrubal, who put out the eyes of all the Roman
captives he had taken during two years, cut off"
their noses, fingers, legs, and arms, tore their skin
to pieces with iron rakes and harrows, and threw
them headlong from the top of his battlements, —
Jenghiz Khan, who caused seventy chiefs to be
thrown nto as many caldrons of boiling water,
and took pleasure in beholding his army behead-
ing a hundred thousand prisoners at once, — Ta-
merlane, who displayed his sportive cruelty in
pounding three or four thousand people in large
mortars, or building them among bricks and mor-

tar into a wall, — Mustapha, who treacheronsly
murdered the Venetian officers, after having en-
tered into a treaty with them, and who beheld
with delight the noble-minded Bragadino, whom
he had cruelly tortured, flayed alive, — Buonaparte,
whose mad ambition sacrificed so many millions
of human beings, and Lord Byron,* in whose
breast "resentment, anger, and hatred," raged
with violence, and who made his gall flow out
" against individuals, his country, the world, the
universe, creation, and the Creator;" — let us sup
pose such characters associated together in a
world where no pleasing objects meet the eye oi
cheer the heart and imagination; and let us like-
wise suppose, that the malignant principles and
boisterous passions which reigned in their minds
during the present state, still continue to rage
with uncontrolled and perpetual violence against
all surrounding associates; it is evident, that, in
such a case, a scene of misery would be produced,
beyond the power of the human mind either to
conceive or to describe. If so dreadful effects
have been produced, by such diabolical passions,
even in the present world, where Providence "sets
rentraining bounds to the wrath of man," and
where benignant dispositions are blended with the
evil principles which so generally prevail, what
must be the effects where pure malignity, without
any mixture of benevolent feelings, reigns uni-
versally, is perpetually tormenting its objects, is
ever increasing in its furj', and is never controlleo
by physical obstructions or by moral considera-
tions! This is the society of hell: this is the
essence of future misery: this is " the wonn that
never dies, and the fire that is never quenched;"
and the natural effects produced by it is universal
anguish and despair, — "weeping, and wailing,
and gnashing of teeth." — If such be the end of
the ungodly, and the malignant despiser of God's
law, and the riches of his mercy as manifestea
in Christ Jesus, — how careful should we be tc
counteract every evil propensity and passion, and
how fervently ought we to join in the prayer
of the Psalmist, and in the resolution of Jacob:
" Gather not my soul with sinners, nor my life
with bloody men." "0 my soul, come not thou
into their secret; unto their assembly, mine hon-
or, be not thou united!"

Let none imagine, because I have selected some
of the more atrocious characters recorded in
history, as illustrations of the effects of depravity
— that only such are "vessels of wrath, fitted for
destruction." The principle of malevolence is
substantially the same in every heart where it is
predominant, however much it may be varnished
over by hypocrisy, dissimulation, and the various
forms of politeness which prevail in the world;
and it requires only a certain stimulus to excite it
to action, and full scope to exert its energies, in
order to produce the most horrible and extensive
effects. Several of the atrocious characters to
which I have alluded, appeared, in the commence-
ment of their career, to be possessed of a certain
portion of benevolence, and of other amiable qual-
ities. Nero, in the beginning of his reign, show-
ed several marks of the greatest kindness and

* The Author trusts that none of his readers will for a
moment suppose, that, in bringing forward the above-men-
tioned characters as exami)les of malignity, he jjresnmes to
decide on their eternal destiny. His object mere'y is to
show, that such malignant principles and passions as they
displayed in the general tenor of their conduct, i/ resolittilt
persisted in, necessarily led to misery. With regard to
Buonaparte and Lord Byron, he is disposed to indulge a
hope, that their malevolent dispositions were in some mea-
sure counteracted, before they passed into the eternal world.
The grounds of his hope, on this point, are stated in tb«
Appendix.

APPENDIX.

97

oot.descension, affability, complaisance, and popu-
larity. When he was desired to sign his name to
a list of malefactors that were to be executed, he
exclaimed, "Would to Heaven I could not write!"
— Caligula began his reign with every promising
appearance of becoming the real father of .his peo-
ple Tiberius at first concealed his tlioughts un-
der the mask of an impenetrable dissimulation.
lie governed with moderation, and even appeared
to excel in modesty. But afterward, wjien these
individuals became into.xicated with power, and
had thrown aside all considerations of morality
and decorum, the latent principles of malignity
burst forth in all their violence, until they became
a scourge and an execration to mankind. So will
it happen with those who now harbor malicious
and vindictive passions, under a cloak of dissim-
ulation and fasliionable politeness, when they en-
ter the invisible world under the dominion of such
affections. When the restraints of society, of
common decorum, and of human laws, are com-
pletely removed; when they have lost all hopes
of the divine mercy; when they find themselves
surrounded by none but malignant associates, and
when they feel the effects of their infernal mal-
ice and revenge — those passions, which sometimes
lie dormant in this life, will be roused into action,
and rage with ungovernable fury against every
one around, against themselves, "against the uni-
verse, and against the Creator."

Nor let it be imagined, that God will interpose
at the hour of death, and, by an exertion of his
pov/er and benevolence, destroy the principles of
sin, and prepare such characters for the joys of
heaven. Such an interference, in every individ-
ual case, would imply a continued miracle, and
would be inconsistent with the established order
of the divine government; as it would supersede
the use of all those instructions, admonitions, and
moral preparations which God hath appointed
for rendering his people "meet for the inheritance
of the saints in light;" and would prevent the mo-
ral renovation of the world, which is now gradu-

ally effecting by the exertions of those who are
"renewed in the spirit of their minds." It is true,
indeed, that the mercy of God is infinite, and that
so long as there is life, there is hope; — so that tlie
most abandoned sinner has no reason to despair,
while he remains within the confines of the pres-
ent state. But, as for those who pass from time
into eternity, evidently under the power of re-
vengeful and depraved passions, we have but
slender grounds on which to hope that they shall
ever afterward be prepared for the felicity of hea-
ven.

From the whole of what I have stated iu
this department of my subject, it is evident, that
there are two different states in the future world,
or, in other words, a heaven and a hell; a state of
happiness, and a slate of misery. If human beings
are to exist at all in another region of creation,
and throughout an unlimited duration, it is neces-
sary that there be a separation cfFccted, on the
ground of their leading dispositions and characters.
The nature of things, the moral constitution of the
universe, and the happiness of the intelligent cre-
ation, as well as the decree of the Creator, require,
that such an arrangement should take place. For
it is altogether incompatible with the laws of mo-
ral order, that pride, hatred, malignity, and revenge,
should dwell in the same abode with humility, be-
nevolence, friendship, and love; or, that beings,
actuated by principles and affections diametrically
opposite to each other, could engage with harmony
in the same employments, and relish the same
pleasures. Were such an incongruous association
permitted, the moral universe would soon become
a scene of universal anarchy, and happiness be
banished from all worlds. So that the two states
of immortality revealed in Scripture, are equally
accordant with the dictates of reason, and with
the declaration of our Saviour, who has solemnly
assured us, that " the wicked shall depart into
everlasting punishment, and the righteous into
' life eternal."

APPENDIX

The following facts and documents, in relation
to Lord Byron, lead us to indulge the hope, that,
prior to his dissolution, he was actuated by senti-
ments and dispositions, different from those which
are stated at page 96.

The lady of Mr. John Shepherd of Frome, hav-
ing died some time ago, leaving among her pa-
pers, a prayer which her husband believed to have
been composed on behalf of the noble poet, Mr.
Shepherd addressed it to his Lordship, which
called forth the reply which is here subjoined.

Frome, Somerset, Nov. 2lst, 1821.
To thf Right Honorable Lnrd Byron, Pisa.

My Loud, — More than two years since, a love-
ly and beloved wife was taken from me, by lin-
gering disease, after a very short union. She pos-
sessed unvarying gentleness and fortitude, and a
piety so retiring, as rarely to disclose itself in
words, but so influential, as to produce uniform be-
nevolence of conduct. In the last hour of life, af-
ter a farewell look on a lately born and only infant,
for whom she had evinced inexpressible affection,
her last whispers were, " God's happiness ! God's
happiness 1" Since the second anniversary of her

decease, I have read some papers which no one
had seen during her life, and which contained her
most secret thoughts. I am induced to communi-
cate to your Lordship a passage from these papers,
which, there is no doubt, refers to yourself ; as I
have more than once heard the writer mention
your agility on the rocks at Hastings : —

"0 my God, I take encouragement from the as-
surance of thy word, to pray to Thee in behalf of
one for whom I havt " ttely been much interested.
May the person to whom I allude (and who is
now, we fear, as much distinguished for his ne-
glect of Thee, as for the transcendent talents Thou
hast bestowed on him), be awakened to a sense
of his own danger, and led to seek that peace of
mind in a proper sense of religion, which he has
found this world's enjoyments unable to procure.
Do thou grant that his future example may be
productive of far more extensive benefit, than his
past conduct and writings have been of evil ; and
may the Sun of Righteousness, which, we trust,
will, at some future period, arise upon liim, be
bright in proportion to the darkness of those clouds
which guilt has raised, and soothing in proportion
to the keenness of that agony which the punish-

98

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

ment of his vices has inflicted on him! May the
hope, that tlio sincerity of my own elForts for the
attainment of holiness, and tlio approval of my
own love to the great Author of religion, will ren-
der tliis prayer, and every other for the welfare of
jiianliind, more eiDcacious — cheer me in the path
of duty; but let ine not forget, that, while we are
permitted to animate ourselves to exertion, by
every innocent motive, these are but the lesser
streams wliich may serve to increase the current,
but which, deprived of the grand fountain of good
(a deep conviction of inborn sin, and firm belief
in the ellicacy of Christ's death, for the salvation
of those who trust in him, and really seek to serve
him), would soon dry up, and leave us as barren
of every virtue as before. — Hastings, July 3lst,
1814."

There is nothing, my Lord, in this extract,
which, in a literary sense, can at all interest you;
but it may, perhaps, appear to you worthy of re-
flection, how deep and expansive a concern for the
happiness of others, a Christian faith can awaken
in the midst of youth and prosperity. — Here is no-
thing poetical, and splendid, as in the expostula-
tory homage of M Delamartine; but here is the
sublinie, my Lord; for this intercession was of'
fered on your account, to the supreme Source of
happiness. It sprang from a faith more confirmed
than that of the French poet, and from a charity,
which, in combination with faith, showed its
power unimpaired amidst the languors and pains
of approaching dissolution. I will hope that a
prayer, which, lam sure, was deeply sincere, may
not be always unavailing.

It would add nothing, my Lord, to the fame
with which your genius has surrounded you, for
an unknown and obscure individual to express his
admiration of it. I had rather be numbered with
those who wish and pray, that "wisdom from
above," and "peace " and "joy," may enter such
a mind.

THE ANSWER.

Pisa, Dec. Sth, 1821.
Sir, — I have received your letter. I need not say
that the extract which it contains has affected me,
because it would imply a want of all feeling to
have read it with indifference. Though I am not
quite sure that it was intended by the writer for
me, yet the date, the place where it was written,
with some other circumstances, which you men-
tion, render the allusion probable. But, for whom-
soever it was meant, I have read it with all the
pleasure which can arise from so melancholy a
topic. I say, pleasure, because your brief and sim-
ple picture of the life and demeanor of the excel-
lent person whom I trust that you will again meet,
cannot be contemplated without the admiration
due to her virtues, and her pure and unpretending
piety. Her last moments were particularly stri-
king; and I do not know, that in the course of
reading the story of mankind, and still less in my
observations upon the existing portion, I ever met
with anything so unostentatiously beautiful. In-
disputably, the firm believers in the gospel have
a great advantage over all others — for this simple
reason, that if true, they will have their reward
hereafter; and If there be no hereafter, they can be
but with the infidel in his eternal sleep, having
bad the a.sslstance of an exalted hope through life,
without subsequent disappointment, since (at the
worst of them) " out of nothing, nothing can
arise," not even sorrow. But a man's creed does
not depend upon himself; ichn can say, I will believe
this, that, or the other? and least of ail that which

ho least can compreliend! I have, however, ob-
served, that those who have begun with extreme
faith, have in the end greatly narrowed it, aa
Chillingworth, Clark (who ended as an Arian),
and some others; while on the other hand, nothing
is more common, than for the early skeptic to
end in a firm belief, like Maupertius and Henry
Kirko White. But my business is to acknow-
ledge your letter, and not to make a dissertation.
I am obliged to you for your good wishes, and
more obliged by the extract from the papers of the
beloved object whose qualities you have so well
described in a few words. I can assure you, that
all the fame which ever cheated liumanity into
higher notions of its own importance, wo.uld nev-
er weigh on my mind against the pure and pious
interest which a virtuous being may be pleased to
take in my welfare. In this point of view, I
would not exchange the prayer of the deceased in
my behalf, for the united glory of Homer, Caesar,
and Napoleon, could such be accumulated upon a
living head. Do me the justice to supppose, that
" video meliora proboque," however the " dete-
riora sequor" may have been applied to my con-
duct. I have the honor to be your obliged and
obedient servant, Byron.

P. S. I do not know that I am addressing a cler-
gyman; but I presume that you will not be affron-
ted by the mistake (if it is one) on the address of
this letter. One who has so well explained, and
deeply felt, the doctrines of religion, will excuse
the error which led me to believe him its min-
ister.

This letter, every one will admit, exhibits Lord
Byron in a much more amiable point of view than
the traits of his character sketched by Mr. Dallas,
prior to the year 1818. The following account of
his death-bed sentiments is extracted from " Last
days of Lord Byron."

A very few days before his Lordship's death,
Mr. Parry relates : — " It was seven o'clock in the
evening when I saw him, and then I took a chair,
at his request, and sat down by his bed-side, and
remained until ten o'clock. He sat up in his bed,
and was then calm and collected. He talked with
me on a variety of subjects, connected with himself
and his family. He spoke of death also with great
composure, and though he did not believe his end
was so very near, there was something about him
so serious and so firm, so resigned and composed,
so different from anything I had ever before
seen in him, that ray mind misgave, and at times
foreboded his speedy dissolution. 'Parry,' he
said, when I first went to him, ' I have much wish-
ed to see you to-day. I have had most strange
feelings, but my head is now better. I have no
gloomy thoughts, and no idea but I shall recover.
I am perfectly collected — I am sure I am in my
senses — but a melancholy will creep over me at
times.' The mention of the subject brought the
melancholy topics back, and a few exclamations
showed what occupied Lord Byron's mind when
he was left in silence and solitude. ' My wife! my
Ada! my country! the situation of this place — my
removal impossible, and perhaps death — all com-
bine to make me sad. I am convinced of the
happiness of domestic life. No man on earth re-
spects a virtuous woman more than I do; and the
prospect of retirement in England, with my wife
and Ada, gives me an idea of happiness I have
never experienced before. Retirement will be
everything to me, for heretofore to me life has been
like the ocean in a storm. You have no concep-
tion of the unaccountablo thoxights which coma

APPENDIX.

99

into my mind when the fever attacks me. — Eter-
nity and space are before me, but on this subject,
thauk God, I am happy and at ease. The thought
of Hving eternally, of again reviving, is a great
pleasure. Christianity is the purest and most libe-
ral religion in the world, but the numerous teachers
who are continually worrying mankind with their
denunciations and their doctrines, are the greatest
enemies of religion. I have read with more atten-
tion than half of them the Book of Christianity,
and I admire the liberal and truly charitable prin-
ciples which Christ has laid down. There are
questions connected with this subject which none
but Almighty God can solve. Time and space
who can conceive? None but God — on him I
rely.'"

Who knows but the prayer of the amiable young
lady, inserted above, was the mean of leading his
Lordship to indulge such sentiments, and of ulti-
mately securing his eternal happiness! " The ef-
fectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth
much." This consideration should not only ex-
cite us to offer up intercessions in belialf of par-
ticular individuals, but also to use every prudent
and delicate mean — by conversation, epistolary
correspondence, or otherwise, to rouse the atten-
tion of those, especially in the higher circles of
life, who appear unconcerned about "the things
irhi.'i relate to their everlasting peace."

Tlie following lines, written by Lord Byron,
are said to have been found in his Bible: —

'* Within this awful volume lies
Th» mi'stery of mysteries.

Oh! happiest they ofhnman race.
To whom our God has given grace,
To hear, to read, to fear, to pray,
To lift llie latcli, and force tiie way;
But better had they ne'er been born,
Who read to doubt, or read to scorn."

With regard to Buonaparte, we have nothing so
satisfactory as in the case of Byron, that might
lead us to conclude that his moral and religious
sentiments were changed for the better. In his
solitude at St. Helena, however, it appears that the
subject of religion occasionally occupied his atten-
tion. The following anecdote, extracted from Las
Casas' Journal, will show the opinion which he
entertained of the morality of the New Testa-
ment : —

In a conversation on the subject of religion,
which he had with his friends at St. Helena, he
said, among many other things, "•'How is it pos-
sible that conviction can find its way to our hearts,
when we hear the absurd language, and witness
the acts of iniquity of the greatest number of
those whose business it is to preach to us? I am
surrounded with priests who preach incessantly
that their reign is not of this world, and yet they
lay hands upon everj-thing they can get. The
Pope is the head of that religion from heaven, and
he thinks only of this world,' &c. The Emperor
ended the conversation by desiring my son to bring
him the Now Testament, and taking it frcm the
beginning, he read as far as the conclusion of tlie
speech of Jesus on the mountain. He expressed
Idms elf struck with the highest admiration at the pu-
rity, tlie sublimity, the beauty of the morality it con-
tained, and we all experienced the same feeling."

THE

PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION;

OS,

AN ILLUSTEATION

OP Tn:

MORAL LAWS OF THE UNIVERSE.

PREFACE.

To delineate the moral bearings of the Christian Revelation, — to display the
reasonableness and the excellence of its precepts, and the physical and rational grounds
on which they rest, — and to exhibit a few prominent featm-es in the moral aspect of
the world, — were some of the principal objects which the author had in view in the
composition of the following work. He is not aware that a similar train of thought
has been pi'osecuted, to the same extent, by any preceding writer; and is therefore
disposed to indulge the hope that it may prove both entertaining and instructive to
the general reader, and to the intelligent Christian.

It may not be improper to remind the reader that the author's object simply is
to illustrate the topics he has selected as the subject of this volume. As he has
taken his fundamental principles from the system of revelation, he was under no
necessity, as most ethical writers are, to enter into any labored metaphysical
discussions on the foundation of morality, and the motives from which moral actions
should proceed. — The truth of revelation is, of course, taken for granted ; and all
who acknowledge its divine authority, will readily admit the principles which form
the basis of the system here illustrated. But, although it formed no particular
part of the author's plan to illustrate the evidences of the Christian revelation, he
trusts that the view which is here given of the benignant tendency of its moral requi-
sitions, will form a powerful presumptive argument in support of its celestial origin.

The Christian reader may also be reminded, that it is only the pJalosophy of
religion which the author has attempted to illustrate. It formed no part of his plan
to enter into any particular discussion, on the doctrines of revelation, or on those
topics which have so frequently been the subject of controversy in the Christian
church. It is not to support the tenets of Calvinism, Arminianism, Baxterianism,
Arianism, or any other ism which distinguishes the various denominations of the
religious world, that these illustrations are presented to public view ; but to elucidate
an object which it appears to be the grand design of revelation to accomplish, and in
the promotion of which every section of the Christian church is equally interested,
and to which they would do well to "take heed." — In his illustration of this subject,
the author has kept his eye solely on the two revelations which the Almighty has
given to mankind, — the system op nature, and the sacred records just as they
stand, — without any regard to the theories of pliilosophers, the opinions of commen-
tators, or the systems of theologians. He is disposed to view the revelations of the
Bible rather as a series of important facts, from which moral instructions are to be
deduced, than as a system of metaphysical opinions for the exercise of the intellect.
On the leading topics which have divided the Christian world, the author hafl
formed his own opinion, and has adopted those which he has judged, on the whole,
to be most correct ; but it is of no importance to the reader what these opinions are,
or of what system of speculative theology he is inclined, on the whole, to support.
He sets very little value upon purely speculative opinions, except in so far as they
tend to promote the grand moral objects of Christianity; and while he assumes the
inalienable right of thinking for himself on the subject of religion, he is disposed to
allow the same privilege to others. He believes, on the authority of Scripture, that
" God is the Creator of heaven and earth ;" — that " he is righteous in all his ways,
and holy in all his works ;" — that " he is good to all, and that his tender mercies
Vol. L— 17 (iii)

iv ,. PREFACE.

are over all his works;" — that " he so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten
Son, that whosoever bclievcth on him might not perish, but have everlasting life;" —
that " Christ died for our sins, that lie was buried, and that he rose again from the
dead according to the Scriptures;" — that "he is the propitiation for our sins, and
that he ever lives to make intercession;" — together with all the other facts and
doctrines with which these are essentially connected. But he views the recognition
of such doctrines and facts not as the end of religion, but only as the means by
which the great moral objects of Christianity are to be promoted and accomplished.

In illustrating the mural state of the world, the author is sorry that he was
obliged to compress his details witliin so narrow limits. Few readers, however, will
appreciate the labor and research he was under the necessity of bestowing, in order
to select and arrange the facts which he has detailed. He has occasionally had to
condense a long history or narrative, and even a whole volume, into the compass of
two or three pages ; and to search through more than twenty volumes, in order to
find materials to fill a couple of pages. With the»^ame degree of research (except-
ing the mechanical labor of transcription), he might have filled several volumes with
similar illustrations ; and he is convinced that a work of this description, judiciously
executed, w?uld prove highly instructive, as well as entertaining, not only to the
Christian world, but to readers of every description.

Various topics, connected with the philosophy of religion still remain to be
illustrated. These shall form the subject of discussion in a future volume, should
the present work be received with general approbation.

CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTION.

Pa«b.
db/£Or9 1 1 h<rmuii knowledge 7

CHAPTER I.

ON THE MORAL RELATIONS OF INTELLIGENT BEINGS TO THEIR CREATOR. 10

SE CTION I.

Oa t'ne primary or rfios» genemt idea of Morality 10

SECTION II.
Ou the fundamental pi jncrplt^ of Morality II

SECTION III.
On the Omnipotence of Goa. 12

SECTION IV.
)n the Wisdom and Goodnesb of God 14

SECTION V.
Jn the Mercy and Patience of God 21

SECTION VI.
Jn the Rectitude of the Divine Character 25

SECTION VII.
Modes in which Love to God is displayed 28

CHAPTER IL

SECOND PRINCIPLE OF MORAL ACTION — LOVE TO ALL SUBORDINATE INTELLIGENCES. 33

SECTION I.
iTie natural equality of mankind considered as the basis of love to our neighbor 33

SECTION II.

The connections and relations which subsist among mankind considered as establishing the

basis of love to our neighbor 37

SECTION III.

The ultimate destination of mankind considered as a basis for love to our neighbor, and as a

motive to its exercise 40

SECTION IV.

Love to God and our neighbor enforced and illustrated, from a consideration of the miserable
effects which would ensue were these principles reversed, and were rational beings to
act accordingly 43

SECTION V.
Efilcts which would flow from the full operation of the principle of Love to God and to man. . 44

yj CONTENTS.

SECTION VI.

Un/'yersality of the principles of Lovo to God and to fellow intelligences 50

SECTION VII.

The preceding views corroborated by Divine Revelation ... 54

SECTION VIII

On the practical operation of Love, and the various modes in which it should be displayed

toward mankind 57

CHAPTER III.

ON THE MORAL LAW, AND THE RATIONAL GROUNDS ON WHICH ITS PRECErTS ARE FOUNDED. 65

The first commandment 66

The second commandment 69

The third commandment 71

The fourth commandment 73

The fifth commandment 75

The sixth commandment 77

The seventh commandment 79

The eighth commandment 81

The ninth commandment 83

The tenth commandment 88

General conclusions and remarks founded on the preceding illustrations 90

CHAPTER IV. .

A BRIEF SURVEY OF THE MORAL STATE OF THE WORLD; OR, AN EXAMINATION OF THE GENERAL
TRAIN OF HUMAN ACTIONS, IN REFERENCE TO ITS CONFORMITY WITH THE PRINCIPLES AND

LAWS NOW ILLUSTRATED. 95

SECTION I.

State of Morals in the Ancient World 96

Watlike dispositions of mankind 98

Atrocities connected with war 101

SECTION II.

State of Morals in Modern Times 104

Moral state of savage nations 104

Warlike attitude of Savage Nations 110

Inhumanity of uncivilized tribes to unfortunate travelers Ill

Malevolent dispositions, as displayed in disfiguring the body 114

Malevolence as it appears in the religion of savage tribes 116

SECTION III.

Moral state of Civilized Nations 11?

SECTION IV.

Moral state of the professing Christian World 129

Moral state of the Protestant Church, and of the dispositions generally manifested among

Christians in our own countr)'^ 137

General reflections 141

Means by which the practice of Christian morality might be promoted 143

Conclusions from the general principles illustrated in this volume ■ 144

THE

PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGIOI

INTRODUCTION.

The objects of human knowledge may be re-
duced to two classes — the relations of matter and
the relations of mind; or, in other words, the 7na-
terial and the intellectual universe. Of these two
departments of science, the intellectual universe
is, in many respects, the most interesting and im-
portant. For, in so far as our knowledge and re-
searches extend, it appears highly probable, if not
absolutely certain, that the material universe ex-
ists solely for the sake of sentient and intelligent
beings — in order to afford a sensible manifestation
of the attributes of tiio great First Cause, and to
serve as a vehicle of tiiought and a medium of
enjoyment to subordinate intelligences. So in-
timately related, however, are those two objects
of human investigation, tiiat a knowledge of the
one cannot be obtained but through the medium
of the other. The operations of mind cannot be
carried on v/ithout the intervention of external
objects; for if the material universe had never
existed, we could never have prosecuted a train
of thought;* and the beauties and sublimities of
external nature can be perceived only by thinking
beings, without the existence of which, the ma-
terial universe would remain like a mighty blank,
and might be said to have been created in vain. —
Hence it appears, that, previous to our inquiries
Into the nature and relations of mind, it is neces-
sary, in the first place, to study the phenomena
of the material world, and the external actions of
all those percipient beings with whicii it is peo-
pled; for the knowledge of the facts we acquire
in relation to these objects must form the ground-
work of all our investigations.

We are surrounded, on every hand, with minds
of various descrij)tioHs, which evince the facul-
ties of which they are possessed, by tlie various
senses and active powers with which they are
furnished. These minds are of various grada-
tions, in point of intellectual capacity and acu-
men, from man downward tlirough all the ani-
mated tribes which traverse the regions of earth,
air, and sea. We have the strongest reason to
believe, that the distant regions of the material

* Tl)e whole train of ideas whicli passes through our
minds on any snhject may be considered as the inia;?es of
external ohjects variously modified and combined. These
images we receive through the medium of our senses, by
which we hold a communication with the material worlil. —
All our ideas of God, and of the objects of relijrion,are derived
fiom the same source. The illustrations of the attributes
of the Deity, ami of his moral administration, contained in
Scripture, are derived from the external scenes of creation,
and from the relations of human society; con^ecjuently, had
Ihe material world never existed, we could have formed no
conceptions of the divine perfections similar to those which
we now entertain, nor have prosecuted a train of thouiht on
any ether subject; for the material universe is the basis of
all the knowleilfje we have hitherto acquired, or can acquire,
respectinj ourselves, our Creator or other intelligences. —
Any person who is disposed to call in question this position
must be prepared to point out, distinctly and specifically,
Ihose ideas or trains of thotiglit which are now derivert
through the medium of the external scRses, and Irom the ob-
jects on which they aie exercised.

world are also replenished with intellectual beings,
of various orders, in which there may be a gra-
dation upv/ard, in the scale of intellect above that
of a man, as diversified as that which we per-
ceive in the descending scale, from man down-
ward to the immaterial principle which animates

a muscle, a snail, or a microscopic animalcula

Wiien we consider the variety of original forms
and of intellectual capacities which abounds in
our terrestrial system, and that there is an infinite
gap in the scale of being between the human
mind and the Supreme Intelligence, it appears
quite conformable to the magnificent harmony of
the universe, and to the wisdom and benevolence
of its Almighty Author, to suppose, that there
are beings within the range of his dominions aa
far superior to man in the comprehension and ex-
tent of mental and corporeal powers, as man is,
in these respects, superior to the most despicable
insect; and that these beings, in point of number,
may exceed all human calculation and compre-
hension. This idea is corroborated by several in-
timations contained in the records of revelation,
where we have presented to our view a class of
intelligences endowed with phy sical energies, pow-
ers of rapid motion, and a grasp of intellect, in-
comparably superior to those which are possessed
by any of the beings which belong to our sublu-
nary system.

To contemplate the various orders of intelli-
gences which people the material universe, and
tiie relations which subsist among them — the ar-
rangements of the different worlds to which they
respectively belong — the corporeal vehicles by
which they hold a correspondence with the ma-
teria! system — the relation in which they stand
to other worlds and beings, from which they are
separated by the voids of space — and the excur-
sions they occasionally make to different regions
of that vast empire of which they form a part —
to trace the superior intellectual faculties and the
sensiiive organs with which they are endowed —
the profound investigations they have made into
the economy of the universe — the trains of thought
which they pursue, and the magnificent objects
on which their faculties are employed — the emo-
tions with wliich they view the scenes and trans-
actio!iS of such a world as ours — the means by
wliicli tliey have been carried forward in the ca-.
reer of moral and intellectual Improvement — the
liistory of their transactions since the period at
wliicli they were brought into existence — the pe-
culiar dispensations of the Creator, and the revo-
lutions that may have taken place among them —
the progressions they have made from one stag©
of imjirovement to another — the views they have
acquired of the perfections and the plans of their
Almighty Sovereign — the transporting emotions
of deliglit which pervade all their faculties — and
the sublime adorations they offer up to the Foun-
tain of all their felicity — would constitute a
source of the most exquisite gratification to every

(7)

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

holy, intelligent, and inquiring mind. But, since
we are at present confined to u sniuU corner of tlie
universe of God, and surrounded by inuneasnni-
ble voids of space, which intervene between our
habitation and the celestial worlds, through which
no human power can enable us to penetrate, we
must remain ignorant of the nature and economy
of those intellectual beings, until our souls take
their flight from these " tubernacies of clay,"'to
join their kindred spirits in the invisible world.
While wo remain in our snblunai-y mansion, our
investigations into the world of mind must,
therefore, of necessity, be confined to the nature
and attributes of tlie Uncreated Spirit, and to the
faculties of our own minds and those of the sen-
sitive beings with which we are surrounded. —
These faculties, as they constitute the instruments
by which all our knowledge, both human and di-
vine, is acquired, liave employed the attention of
philosophers in every age, and have been the
theme of many subtle and ingenious speculations;
and they, doubtless, form an interesting subject
of investigation to the student of intellectual
science.

But, of aH the views we can take of the world
of mind, the vwral relations of intelligent beings,
and the laws founded on these relations, are topics
by far the most interesting and important. This
subject ma)' be treated in a more definite and tan-
gible manner than the theories which have been
formed respecting the nature and operations of
the intellectual powers. Illustrations level to
every capacity, and which come home to every
one's bosom, may be derived both from reason and
experience, from the annals of history, and the
records of revelation. It is not involved in the
same difliculties and obscurity wliich have per-
plexed the philosophy of the intellect; and there
are certain principles which may be traced in re-
lation to this subject, which apply to all the ra-
tional intelligences that God has formed, however
diversified in respect of the regions of the uni-
verse which they occupy, and in the extent of
tlieir intellectual powers. Above all, this subject
is more intimately connected with the present
and future happiness of man than any other
which comes within the range of human investi-
gation; and therefore, forms a prominent and le-
gitimate branch of what may be termed " The
Philosophy of Religion."

That the moral relations of intelligent minds,
and the temper and conduct corresponding with
these relations, are essentially connected with the
happiness of every rational agent, might be made
to appear from a variety of cases, in which the
reversing of certain moral laws or principles
would inevitably lead to disorder and misery. I
shall content myself with stating the following
illustration: — "We dwell in an obscure corner of
God's empire; but the light of modern science
has shown us, that worlds, a thousand times
larger than ours, and adorned with more refulgent
splendors, exist within the range of that system
of which we form a part. It has also unfolded
to our view other systems dispersed throughout
the voids of space, at immeasurable distances,
and iu such vast profusion, that our minds are
unable to grasp their number and their magnitude.
Reason and revelation lead us to conclude, that
all these worlds and systems are adorned with
displays of divine wisdom, and peopled with my-
riads of rational inliabitaiits. The human mind,
after it has received notices of such stupendous
scenes, natura.iy longs for a nearer and more in-
timate inspection of tlie grandeur and economy
*f Uiose distant provinces of the Creator's em-

pire; and is apt to imagine, that it would never
weary, but would feel unmuigled enjoyment,
while it winged its flight from one magnificent
scene of creation to another. But although an
inhabitant of our world were divested of the
qualit)' of gravitation, endowed with powers of
rapid motion adequate to carry him along " to
the suburbs of creation," and permitted by his
Creator to survey all the wonders of the universe
if a principle of love and kindly affection to-
ward fellow-intelligences did not animate his
mind, if rage and revenge, pride and ambition,
hatred and envy, were incessantly rankling in his
breast, he could feel no transporting emotions,
nor taste the sweets of true enjoyment. The
vast universe, through which he roamed, would
be transformed into a spacious hell; its beauties
and sublimities could not prevent misery from
taking possession of his soul; and, at every stage
of his excursion, he could not fail to meet with
the indications of his Creator's frown. For there
appears, from reason and experience, us well as
from the dictates of revelation, an absolute im-
possibility of enjoying happiness so long as ma-
levolent affections retain tlieir ascendency in the
heart of a moral intelligence, in whatever region
of universal nature his residence may be found.

Hence we may learn, that the highest attain-
ments in science to which any one can arrive,
though they may expand the range of his intel-
lectual views, will not ensure to their possessor
substantial and unmingled enjoyment, while his
heart is devoid of benevolent affections, and while
he is subjected to the influence of degrading and
immoral passions. If it be possible that any one
now exists in the literary world, who has devoted
his life to the sublimest investigations of science,
and has taken the most extensive views of the ar
rangements of the material world, -and yet who
remains doubtful as to the existence of aSuprera«
Intelligence, and of an eternal state of destina-
tion; who is elated with pride at the splendor of
his scientific acquirements; who treats his equals
with a spirit of arrogance; who looks down with
a haughty and sullen scowl on the inferior ranks
of his fellow-men; who is haughty, overbearing,
and revengeful in his general deportment, and
who is altogether indifferent as to the moral prin-
ciples he displays, — I would envy neither his hap-
piness nor his intellectual attaimnents. He can
enjoy none of those delightful emotions which
flow from the exercise of Christian benevolence,
nor anjr of those consolations wliich the good
man feels amidst the various ills of life; and, be-
yond the short span of mortal existence, he can
look forward to no brighter displays of the gran-
deur of the material and intellectual universe, but
to an eternal deprivation of his powers of intelli-
gence in the sliades of annihilation.

It must, therefore, be a matter deeply interest-
ing to every intelligent agent, to acquire correct
notions of the fundamental principles of moral
action, and to form those habits which will fit
him for the enjoyment of true felicity, to what-
ever region of the universe he may aftenvard be
transported. — In the illustration of this subject,
I shall pursue a train of thought which 1 am not
aware has been prosecuted by any previous wri-
ters on the subject of morality, and shall endea*
vor to confirm and illustrate the views which may
be exhibited, by an appeal to the discoveries of
revelation.

We have an abundance of poiTderous volumea
on the subject of moral philosophy; but the dif-
ferent theories wliich have been proposed and dis«
cussed, and the metaphysical mode iu which the

INTRODUCTION.

9

subject has been generally treated, have seldom
led to any beneficial practical results. To at-
tempt tc treat the subject of morals without a
reference to divine revelation, as most of our cel-
ebrated moral writers have done, seems to be
little short of egregious trilling. It cannot serve
the purpose of an expcriiiwnt, to ascertain how
far the unassisted faculties of man can go in ac-
qut ring a knowledge of the foundation and the
rules of moral action; for the prominent princi-
ples of Christian morality are so interwoven into
tlie opinions, intercourses, and practices of mo-
dern civilized society, and so familiar to the mind
of every man who has been educated in a Chris-
tian land, that it is impossible to eradicate the
idea of them from the mind, when it attempts to
trace the duty of man solely on the principles of
reason. When the true principles of morality
are once communicated through the medium of
revelation, reason can demonstrate their utility,
and their conformity to the character of God, to
tlio order of the universe, and to the relations
which subsist among intelligent agents. But we
are by no means in a situation to determine
whether they could ever have been discovered by
tJie investigations and eflbrts of the unassisted
powders of the human mind. The only persons
who could fairly try such an experiment were the
Greeks and Romans, and' other civilized nations,
in ancient times, to whom the liglit of revelation
was not imparted. And what was the result of
all their researches on this most important of all
subjects? What were the practical eftects of all
the fine-spun theories and subtle speculations
which originated in the schools of ancient philo-
sophy, under the tuition of Plato and Socrates,
of Aristotle and Zeno? The result is recorded
in the annals of history, and in the writings of
the apostles. " They became vain in their ima-
ginations, and their foolish hearts were darkened.
They were filled with all unrighteousness, forni-
cation, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness,
envy, murder, deceit, malignity; they were back-
biters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, inventors
of evil things, disobedient to parents, without
natural affection, implacable, and unmerciful." —
Their general conduct was characterized by pride,
lasciviousness, and revenge; they indulged in the
commission of unnatural crimes; they were ac-
tuated by restless ambition, and they gloried in
covering the earth with devastation and carnage.

It is true, indeed, that some of the sects of phi-
losophers propounded several maxims and moral
precepts, the propriety of which cannot be ques-
tioned; but none of them could agree respecting
either the foundation of virtue, or the ultimate
object toward which it should be directed, or that
in which the chief happiness of man consists;
and hence it happened, that the precepts delivered
by the teachers of philosophy had little influence
on their own conduct, and far less on that of the
unthinking multitude. Where do we find, in any
of the philosophical schools of Greece and Rome,
a recommendation of such precepts as these,
"Love your enemies; do good to tlicm who hate
you; and pray for them who despilefnlly use you
and persecute you?" In opposition to such di-
vine injunctions, we can trace, in the maxims and
corduct of the ancient sages, a principle of pride
insinuating itself into the train of their most vir-
tuous actions. It has been reckoned by some a
wise and a witty answer which one of the philoso-
phers returned to his friend, who had advised him
to revenge an injury he had suffered; "What,
(says hel if an ass kicks me, must I needs kick

him again?" Some may be disposed to consider
such a reply as indicating a manly spirit, and
true greatness of soul; but it carries in it a proud
and supercilious contempt of human nature, and
a haughtiness of mind, which are altogether in-
consistent with the mild and benevolent precepts
of Him, who, in the midst of his severest suffer-
ings from men, exclaimed, " Father, forgive them,
for they know not what they do."

It appears somewhat preposterous to waste our
time, and the energies of our minds, in labored
metaphysical disquisitions, to ascertain the foun-
dations of virtue, and the motives from which it
is to be pursued; whether it consists in utility, in
ihe fitness of things, or in the regulations of states
and political associations, and whether it is to be
prosecuted from a principle of self-love or of be-
nevolence, when every useful question that can
be started on this subject may be innnediately
solved by a direct application to the revelations of
heaven, and an infallible rule derived for the di-
rection of our conduct in all the circumstances
and relations in which we may be placed. Even
although the moral philosopher were to reject the
Bii»le, as a revelation from God, it would form
no reason why its annunciations should be alto-
gether overlooked or rejected. As an impartial
investigator of tlie history of man, of the moral
constitution of tlie human mind, and of the cir-
cumstances of our present conaition, he is bound
to take into view every fact and every circumstance
which may have a bearing on the important ques-
tion which he undertakes to decide. Now, it is a
fact, that such a book as the Bible actually exists
— that, amidst the wreck of thousands of volumes
which the stream of time has carried into obli-
vion, it has survived for several thousands of
years — that its announcements have directed the
opinions and the conduct of myriads of man-
kind— that many of the most illustrious charac-
ters that have adorned our race have submitted
to its dictates, and governed their tempers and
their actions by its moral precepts — that those
who have been governed by its maxims have been
distinguished by uprightness of conduct, and
been most earnest and successful in promoting
the happiness of mankind — that this book de-
clares, that a moral revulsion has taken place in
the constitution of man since he was placed upon
this globe — and that the whole train of its moral
precepts proceeds on the ground of his being con-
sidered as a depraved intelligence. These are
facts which even the infidel philosopher must ad-
mit; and, instead of throwing them into the
shade, or keeping them .entirely out of view, he
is bound, as an unbiased inquirer, to take them
all into account in his researches into the moral
economy of the human race. In particular, he
is bound to inquire into the probability of the al-
leged fact of the depravity of man, and to con-
sider, whether the general train of In .jan actions,
the leading facts of history in reference to all
ages and nations, and the destructive eifects of
several operations in the system of nature, have
not a tendency to corroborate this important
point. For the fact, that man is a fallen intelli-
gence, must materially modify every system of
ethics that takes it into account. Should thia
fact be entirely overlooked, and yet ultimately be
found to rest on a solid foundation, then, all the
speculations and theories of those moralists who
profess to be guided solely by the dictates of un-
assisted reason, may prove to be nothing mora
t'lau the reveries of a vain imagination, and to
be built on "the baseless fabric of a vision.*'

CHAPTER I.

ON THE MORAL RELATIONS OF INTELLIGENT BEINGS TO THEIR CREAT(;R

SECTION I.

On thb friuary or most general idea of mo-
rality.

I CONCEIVE, that the first or most general idea
of morality is, Order — or, that haniioiiious dis-
position and arrangement of intelligent beings,
which is founded on the nature of things, and
which tends to produce the greatest sum of hap-
piness.

Physical Order, or the order of the material
universe, is that by which every part is made to
harmonize to the other part, and all individually
to the whole collectively. Thus, the adaptation
of light to the eye, and of the eye to light; the
adaptation of the structure of the ear and of the
lungs to the constitution of the atmosphere, and
its various undulations; the adaptation of the wa-
ters, the vegetable productions of the field, the
minerals in the bowels of the earth, the colors
produced by the solar rays, and all the other parts
and agencies of external nature, to the wants and
the happiness of sentient beings; the adaptation
of day and night to the labor and rest appointed
for man; and the regvilarity of the motions of tiie
planetary bodies in their circuits round the sun —
constitute the physical order, or harmony of the
visible world; and it is this which constitutes its
principal beauty, and which evinces the wisdom
of its Almighty Author.

Moral Order is the harmony of intelligent be-
ings in respect to one another, and to their Crea-
tor, and is founded upon those relations in which
they respectively stand to each other. — Thus, re-
verence, adoration, and gratitude, from creatures,
correspond or harmonize with the idea of a self-
existent, omnipotent, and benevolent Being, on
whom they depend, and from whom they derive
every enjoyment, — and love, and good will, and a
desire to promote each other's happiness, harmo-
nize with the idea of intelligences of the same
species mingling together in social intercourses.
For, it will at once be admitted, that affections
directly opposite to these, and universally preva-
lent, would tend to destroy the moral harmony of
the intelligent universe, and to introduce anarchy
and confusion, and consequently misery, among
all the rational inhabitants of the material world.
The following brief illustration, by way of con-
trast, may, perhaps, have a tendency more parti-
cularly to impress the mind witli the idea of order
intended to be conveyed in the above stated defi-
nitions.

Suppose the principle which unites the plane-
tary globes in one harmonious sj-sfem, to be dis-
solved, and the planets to run lawlessly through
the sky — suppose the planet .Tupiter to forsake his
orbit, and in his course to the distant regions of
space, to impinge against the planet Saturn, and
to convulse the solid crust of that globe from its
surface to its center, to disarrange the order of its
satellites, to shatter its rings into pieces, and to
carry the fragments of them along with him in
(10)

I his lawless career, — suppose the sun to attract hla
nearest planets to his surface with a force that
would shake them to their centers, and dissolve
their present constitution, — suppose the moon to
fly from her orbit, and rush toward the planet Ve-
nus,— the earth to be divested of its atmosphere,
the foundations of its mountains to be overturned,
and to be hurled into the plains, and into the ocean;
its seas and rivers to forsake their ancient chan-
nels, and to overflow the laud, and its human in-
habitants swept promiscuously along with the
inferior animals into dens and caves, and crevices
of the earth, and into the bottom of the ocean: —
in such a scene, we should have presented to our
view a specimen of physical confusion and disor-
der; and it would form an impressive emblem"of
the state of rational beings, whose moral order ia
completely subverted.

Again, suppose the rational inhabitants of our
globe to be universally set against each other, in
order to accomplish their misery and destruction —
suppose the child rising in opposition to his pa-
rents, the wife plotting the destruction of her
husband, the brotiier insnaring his sister, and de-
coj'ing her to ruin, — teachers of all descriptions
inculcating the arts of deception, of revenge, and
of destruction, and representing every principle
and fact as contrary to what it really is— false-
hoods of every description industriously forged
and circulated as facts through every rank of so-
ciety— rulers setting themselves in opposition to
the populace, and plotting their destruction, while
they are at the same time actuated by a principle
of pride, of envy, and malice against each other —
the populace setting themselves in opposition to
their rulers, exterminating them from the earth,
subverting every principle of law and order, grati-
fying, without control, every principle of revenge,
avarice, lasciviousness and sensual indulgence, and
enjoying a diabolical satisfaction in contemplating
the scenes of misery they have created: — in short,
every one beholding in his neighbor the malevo-
lence of a fiend armed with in.struments of de-
struction, and devising schemes to secure his
misery and ruin. Suppose the lower animals, im-
pelled by revenge, to rise up in indignation against
man, and to swell the horrors of this general anar-
chy— suppose the superior orders of intelligences
to mingle in this scene of confusion, to exert their
high physical and intellectual powers in adding
fuel to these malevolent principles and operations,
and in attempting to drug other intelligences of a
still higher order from tlieir seats of bliss — sup-
pose all these intelligences actuated by an impla-
cable hatred of their Creator, combined to deface
the beauties of the material creation, and then to
engage in a war of universal extermination
throughout the whole intelligent system in eveiy
region of the universe: such a state of things, if
it could exist in the universe, would form a per-
fect contrast to moral order; it would present a
scene in which existence could not be desirable to
any intelligent mind, and in which happiness
could not possibly be enjoyed by any rational

PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY.

11

being, but by Him who is eternally happy inde-
pendeully of liis creatures. Moral order, then, is
completely opposed to such a state of things as
has now been represented; it consists in every
being holding its proper station in the universe,
acting according to the nature of tliat station, and
usijig its powers and faculties for the purposes for
Which they were originally intended ; and the
grand object intended to be accomplished by this
order, is, the happiness of the wliole, — without
which misery would reign uncontrolled through-
out all tlie ranks of intelligent existence.

This state of tiie moral world is most frequently
designated in scripture by the term holiness. Of
the ideas included under this term, and several of
its kindred epithets, very vague and imperfect
conceptions are frequently entertained. Its lead-
ing or generic idea, from what has been now sta-
ted, will evidently appear to be, a conformity to
order, founded on the relations of intelligent be-
ings to each otiier; or, in other words, it consists
in a complete conformity to the law of God (which
is founded on those relations), including both the
action and the principle from which it flows. In
reference to created beings, holiness may, there-
fore, be defined to be a conformity to the moral order
of the universe, — and, in relation to the Creator,
it is that perfection of his nature, which leads him to
promote the moral order and happiness of intelliyent
beings, and to counteract everything which stands
in opposition to this object.

That the leading ideas and definitions now sta-
ted are correct, will, perhaps, more distinctly ap-
pear in the course of the followijig discussions
and illustrations; but should any one be disposed
to call in question the statements now given in
reference to the primary idea of morality, his dif-
ference of opinion on this point will not materi-
ally affect the leading train of sentiment prosecu-
ted in the further elucidation of this subject.

SECTION II.

0\ THE FDNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY.

The leading idea of morality or holiness, as now
stated, resolves itself into the two following prin-
ciples— love to God the Creator, and love to fellow
intelligences. These are the two grand springs on
which the whole moral machine of the universe
depends. All the diversified actions by which
happiness is diff'used among intelligent agents, are
only so many ramifications of these two simple
and sublime principles, which connect all holy
beings throughout the wide empire of God, in one
harmonious union. This we are not left to infer
merely from the nature of things, but have the
authority of the supreme Legislator, as our war-
rant for placing these principles as the foundation
of all moral virtue among every class of moral
agents. For thus saith our Saviour, " Thou shalt
love the Lord thy God with all thy heart,

AND with all thy MIND, AND WITH ALL THY

iTRENCTH. This is the first and great command-
Kent The second is like unto it: Thou shalt
LOVE thy neighbor as thyself. On these two
principles h/ing all the law and the prophets.'"

These principles, now that they are communi-
cated, and sanctioned by divine authoritj', appear
quite accordant to the dictates of enlightened rea-
son, and calculated to promote the happiness of
the intelligent creation; yet we never find that

the moral systems of pagan philosophers, in any
country, were built on this foundation, or tliat
they assumed them as indispensable axioms to
guide them in their speculations on the subject of
ethics.

In elucidating this topic, I shall endeavor to
show the reasonableness and the utility of tl^ese
principles of moral action, from a consideration
of the nature of God, and the relations in which
intelligent beings stand to him as tlie source of
their existence and felicity — from the nature of
subordinate intelligences, and the relations in
which they stand to one another — from the mi-
sery which must inevitably follow, where such
principles are violated or reversed — from the hap-
piness that would necessarily flow from their full
operation — and, lastly, that they apply to the cir-
cumstances of all created intelligences wherever
existing, throughout the boundless universe — I
have used the plural term principles, to express
the foundation of moral action, because our Sa-
viour has arranged them under two distinct heads,
in the passage just now quoted; but strictly speak-
ing, there is but one principle, namely. Love, which
divides itself, as it were, into two great streams,
one directing its course toward the supreme Source
of all felicity, and the other toward all the subor-
dinate intelligences He has created.

First Principle — Love to God.

Love, considered in reference to the Supreme
Being, may be viewed as dividing itself into a
variety of streams or kindred emotions, all flow-
ing from one source. The most prominent of
these emotions are the following — Admiration,
which consists in a delightful emotion, arising
from a contemplation of the wonderful works of
God, and of the wisdom and goodness which they
unfold — Reverence, which is nearly allied to ad-
miration, is a solemn emotion, mingled with awe
and delight, excited in the mind, when it contem-
plates the perfections, and the grand operations
of the Eternal Mind — Gratitude, which consists
in affection to the Supreme Being, on account of
the various benefi.ts he has conferred upon us —
Humility, which consists in a just sense of our
own character and condition, especially when we
compare ourselves with the purity and perfection
of the divine character. To these emotions may
be added Complacency and delight in the character
and operations of God — Adoration of his excel-
lencies, and an unlimited Dependence upon him
in reference to our present concerns, and to our
future destination. I have stated these different
modifications of the first principle of morality,
because, in the following illustrations, they may
all occasionally be taken into account, when an
allusion is made to the aflfections, which tiie cha-
racter and operations of the Divine Being have a
tendency to excite.

Love is that noble affection which is excited by
amiable objects; and therefore, in order to its being
rational, permanent, and delightful, it must be
founded on the perception of certain amiable
qualities or attributes connected with its object.
In order to demonstrate the reasonableness of this
affection in reference to God, it is only requisite
to consider his character and perfections, and the
relation in which he stands to us as the Author
of our existence and enjoyments. But, as a com-
prehensive view of this subject would require
volumes for its illustration, I shall confine myself
to the illustration of only two or three lineaments
of the divine character.

12

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

SECTION III.
On the omnipotence of God.

We naturally venerate and admire a character
iu whioli physical energy is combined with high
intellectual powers, when these powers are uni-
formly exerted in the counteracliou of vice and
misery, and in the promotion of liuppiness. On
this ground, the Oiiniijmtcnce of God is calculated
to aiiect the mind witii that particular modifica-
tion of love, which is designated by the term Re-
verence. Were it possible that any human being
could construct a machine, by means of which, iu
combination with his own physical powers, he
could transport himself and his treasures from one
region of the globe to another, at the rate of 200
miles iu an hour, aud were he, at the same time,
to devote his treasures, and his moral and intel-
lectual energies to the improvement and meliora-
tion of the various tribes of mankind in every
clime through which he passed, such an object
could not fail of exciting in our miuds a sentiment
of admiration and reverence. Were one of the
highest orders of created intelligences to descend
from his celestial mansion, and to displaj- himself
to our view in all the bright radiance of his native
heaven — were he to take his station over the regions
of Thibet or Ilindostan, and, after having excited
the attention of a wondering populace, were ho to
detach the huge masses of tlie Himalaya moun-
tains from their foundations, and toss them into
the depths of the Indian Ocean, and, in the course
of a few hours, transform the barren wastes of
that dreary region into a scene of beauty and
luxuriant vegetation, and cause splendid cities to
arise, where formerly nothing was presented to
the view but a bleak and frightful wilderness — at
Buch a display of physical power, combined with
benevolent design, we could not withhold a feel-
ing of awe, and a sentiment of reverence, almost
approaching to religious adoration.

If, then, the contemplation of physical and
mental energies, with which even created beings
may possibly be invested, would excite our admi-
ration aud reverence, what powerful emotions of
this description must the energies of the Uncrea-
ted Mind be calculated to produce, when they are
contemplated by the eye of enlightened reason,
and iu the light of divine revelation! When this
huge globe on which we dwell existed in the state
of a shapeless and unformed mass; when land,
aud water, and air, were blended in wild confu-
sion, and chaos and darkness extended their do-
minion over all its gloomy regions, at His com-
mand "light sprung out of darkness, and order
out of confusion ;" the mountains reared their
projecting summits, the valleys were depressed,
the caverns of the ocean were hollowed out, and
the waters retired to the places which He had ap-
pointed for them. The fields were clothed with
luxuriant verdure; Eden appeared in all its beauty;
the inferior tribes of animated existence took pos-
session of the air, the waters, and the earth, and
man was formed in the image of his Maker, to
complete this wondrous scene. At this period,
too, the earth received such a powerful impulse
from the hand of its Creator, as has carried it
along through the voids of space, with all its fur-
niture and inhabitants, in the most rapid career,
for six thousand years; having already moved
through a sjjace of .3,480,000,000,000 miles, and
will still continue its unremitting course for thou-
sands of years to come, until the " mystery of
Providence be finished."

Would we be struck with adii iration and as-

tonishment, at beholding a superior created intel*
ligence tossing a mountain into the sea? What
strong emotions of reverence and awe, then, ought
to pervade our minds, when we behold tlie Al-
miglity every moment producing eflects infinitely
more powerful and astonishing! What would ba
! our astonishment, were we to behold, from a dis-
tance, a globe as large as the earth tossed from
the hand of Omnipotence, and flying at the rate
of a thousand miles every minute! Yet this is
nothing more than what is every day produced
by the unceasing energies of tlfat Power which
first called us into existence. That impulse which
was first given to the earth at its creation is still
continued, by which it is carried round everyday
from- west to cast, along with its vast population,
and at the same time impelled forward through
the regions of space at the rate of sixty-eight
thousand miles in an hour. Nor is this among
the most wonderful effects of divine power: it is
only one comparatively small specimen of that
omnipotent energy which i-esides in the Eternal
Mind. When we lift our eyes toward the sky,
we behold bodies a thousand times larger than this
world of ours, impelled with similar velocities
through the mighty expanse of the universe. We
behold the planetary globes wheeling their rapid
courses around the sun, with unremitting velo-
city— the comets returning from tlu,ir long ex-
cursions in the distant regions of space, and flying
toward the center of our system with a velocity
of hundreds of thousands of miles an hour — the
sun himself impelled toward some distant regioQ
of space, and carrying along with him all his at-
tendant planets — and, in a word, we have the
strongest reason to conclude, that all the vast sys-
tems of the universe, which are more numerous
than language can express, are in rapid and inces-
sant motion around the throne of the Eternal^
carrying forward the grand designs of infinite
wisdom which they are destined to accomplish.*
It must, however, be admitted, that the mani-
festation of power, or great physical energy, ab-
stractly considered, is not of itself calculated to
produce that emotion of reverence which flows
from love, unless the being in whom it resides ex-
erts it for the purposes of benevolence. A superior
being, endowed with great physical and intellectual
energies, wliich were exerted solely for the purpose
of destruction, could inspire no feelings but those
of dread and alarm; and were it possible to con-
ceive an omnipotent being divested of the attribute
of benevolence, or possessed of a capricious cha-
racter, he would form the most terrible object
which the human mind could contemplate. But
the attribute of infinite power, when conjoined
with Infinite wisdom and goodness, conveys an
idea the most glorious and transpoi ting. EA^ery
display of divine power to which I hava now al-
luded, has the communication of happiness for its
object. The motion of the earth around its axis
every twenty-four hours, is intended to distribute
light aud darkness, in regular proportions, to all
the inhabitants of the earth, and to correspond to
the labor and rest appointed for man. It produces
a variety which is highly gratifying to the rational
mind; for, while our fellow-men on the oj)pcsit©
side of the globe are enjoying the splendors of the
noonday sun, the shades of night, which at that
time envelop our hemisphere, are the means of
disclosing to our view the magnificent glories of
the starry frame. Were this motion to cease, this
world and all its inhabitants would be thrown into

* See a more comprehensive illustration of this suliject in
• The Christian Philosopher,"' pn. 8-29.

MNIPOTENCE OF GOD.

13

a state of confusion and misery. While the in-
habitants of one hemisphere enjoyed the splendors
of perpeluul day, the glories of the nocturnal
heavens would be forever vailed from their view,
and the inhabitants of the other hemisphere would
be enveloped in the shades of eternal night. While
the one class was suffiring under the scorching
effects of excessive heat, the other would bo fro-
xen to death amidst the rigors of insutlerable
cold- -vegetable nature, in both cases, would, lan-
guisli, and the animal tribes would be gradually
extinguished.

The same benevolent intention may be per-
ceived in tiiat exertion of power by which the
earth is carried forward in its annual ■ course
around the sun. From this motion we derive all
the pleasui-es we enjoy from tlie vicissitude of the
seasons; without wliich the variety of nature that
appears in the beauties of spring, the luxuriance
of summer, the fruits of autumn, and the repose
of winter, would be completely destroyed. And,
it is worthy of notice, that all this variety is en-
joyed every moment by some one tribe or other
of the human family; for while it is sum\ner in
one region, it is winter in anotiier; and while one
class of our fellow-men is contemplating the open-
ing beauties of spring, another is gathering in the
fruits of harvest. The same benevolent designs,
we have every reason to believe, are displayed in
tliose more magnificent exertions of divine power
which appear among all tlie rolling worlds on
high; for, in so far as our obsei-vations extend, all
the arrangements of the planetary globes appear
calculated to promote the happiness of sentient
and intellectual beings.

While, therefore, we contemplate the operations
of divine power, either in the earth or in the
heavens, we perceive everything which is calcu-
lated to inspire us with love, admiration, and rev-
erence. Wlien we lie down on our pillows in the
evening, how pleasing it is to reflect, ' that the
power of our Almighty Father will be exerted in
carrying ns round in safety several thousands of
miles, during our repose in sleep, in order that
our eyes may be again cheered with the morning
light? When, amidst the gloom and storms of
winter, we look forward to the reviving scenes of
spring, we know that we must be carried forward
more than a hundred millions of miles, before we
can enjoy tiie pleasures of that delightful season;
and when si)ring arrives, we must be carried
through the voids of space a hundred millions of
miles farther, before we can reap the fruits of sum-
mer and harvest. How delightful, then, is the
lliought, tJiat the omnipotent energy of our hea-
venly Father is incessantly exerted in producing
such a wonderful effect, accompanied by such a
variety of beneficent changes, all contributing to
our enjoymenti*

What is the reason, then, why we fe?l so little
admiration and r.n'orence at the beneficent opera-
tions of divine power? If we should be struck
with veneration and wonder at beholding a supe-
rior created intelligence tosring a range of moun-
tains into the sea, why do we behold, with so
much apathy, effects ten thousand times more

• In this, and other plnoes of thif! work, the truth of tlie
annual and (linrn:il mntion-> of the earth is taken for
granted, because I con'eiie it is snsceptible of the clearest
demonstration — (Seo"Chrislian Philosopher," pp. 2'.H, i''^,
147, 119.) lint, shonid the trn'h of this position be called
in question or denied, it will not materially affect the pro-
priety of such moral reflections as are here stated ; for, in
tJifs case, a similar, or even a much greater display of om-
nipotence must, he admitted in reference to the motions of
the heavenlv bodies, in brinjiiij about the succession of
day and night, and the changes of the seasons.

energetic and astonishing? One general reason
among others, undoubtedly is, that the moral con-
stitution of man lias suffered a melancholy de-
rangement; in consequence of which, the train
of his thougiits and affections has been turned
out of its original channel. Tlie Scriptures are
clear and explicit on this point; they declare, in
the most positive terms, that "the cai nal mind
is enmity aqainst God,'' and that, in couseqiiencw
of tills depraved principle, the wicked " walk in
the vanity of their minds, being alienated from
the life of God. They say to the Almighty, De-
part from us, for we desire not the knowleilge of
thy ways. God is not in all their thoughts, and
through pride of their countenances they will not
call upon God." — Another reason is, that th©
almighty Agent who produces so stupendous
effects, remains invisible to mortal eyes. Were a
celestial intelligence to appear in a splendid and
definite form, and to produce such effects as I
have supposed, the connection between the agent
and the effects produced, would forcibly strike
the senses and the imagination. But ho who sita
on the throne of the universe, and conducts all
its movements, is a being "who dwells in light
unapproachable, whom no man hath seen, or can
see." He can be contemplated only through the
sensible manifestations he gives of his perfections;
and, were the train of our thoughts properly di-
rected, we would perceive him operating in every
object, and in every movement. We would hear
his voice in the wind and the thunder, in tho
earthquake, the storm, and tlie tempest; we would
see him in the beauties and sublimities of sublu-
nary nature, in the splendors of. the sun, and the
glories of the nocturnal sky; and, in whatever
situation we might be placed, we would feel our-
selves surrounded with the omnipotent energies
of an ever-present Deity.

The contemplation of God os an omnipotent
being, is calculated to inspire the mind with love
and confidence in the prospect of futurity. The
promises addressed to us by a wise and benevolent
being can e.xcite in us trust and dependence, only
in so far as we are convinced of his ability to
secure their fulfillment. If almighty power were
not an attribute of the Eternal I\iind, or were we
unablo to trace its operations in visible existing
facts, then all the promises and delineations of
revelation, in reference to unseen and eternal
objects, might prove to be nothing more than
imaginary scenes, that could never be realized.
But the good man, who perceives omnipotent
energy in incessant operation throughout all the
scenes of the universe which surround him, feels
the most perfect security in looking forward to
the scene of his future destination, and to those
changes and revolutions which shall succeed the
period of his present existence. He knows that,
in a few years at most, that immortal principle
which now animates his frame, will take its flight
from its earthly mtw.siou to a world unknown.
To what regions it will direct its course; what
scenes and prospects will be unfolded to its view;
what intercourse it may have with the spirits of
departed men, or with other intelligences; in what
state it shall pass its existence until the consum-
mation of the present plan of Providence —
whether it shall romain as a naked spirit entirely
disconnected with the visible universe, or be
clothed with some ethereal vehicle, to enable it to
hold a correspondence with other regions of tho
material creation — he is at present unable to deter-
mine. He knows that his body, too, shall disap-
pear from the living world, and be reduced to
corruption and ashes. In what manner tlie essen-

14

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

tial particles of tl)is body sliall bo i)reservcd
distinct from those of all other human bodies,
after they have been tossed about by the winds,
and blended with tiio other elements of nature;
by what means they shall be reunited into a more
glorious form; and liow the separate spirit shall be
enabled to recognize its renovated and long-lost
partner at the resurrection of the just — he can
form no conception.

Ho knows, that the globe on which he now
resides is doomed to be dissolved amidst devouring
flames, when " the elements shall melt with fervent
heat, and the earth, and the works that are therein,
shall be burnt up " — that the ashes of all the myr-
iads of the race of Adam shall issue from the
caverns of the ocean, and from the charnel houses,
in every region of the land — that they shall be
molded into new organical structures, united
with tlieir kindred spirits, and be convened in one
grand assembly before God, the Judge of all. He
knows, that " new heavens and a new earth" will
be arranged for the residence of the " redeemed
from among men;" but in what region of the
universe this abode may be prepared, what scenes
it will unfold, and by what means the innumera-
ble company of the righteous shall be transported
from amidst the .ruins of this globe to that celestial
habitation — he is at present at a loss to form even
a conjecture. He knows, that after these solemn
changes have been effected, ages numerous as the
drops of the ocean will roll over him — tliat worlds
numerous as the stars of heaven will still run
their destined rounds — that other systems may
undergo important changes and revolutions — that
new systems of creation may be gradually emer-
ging into existence, and that scenes, of magnifi-
cence and glory, different from all that ever pre-
ceded them,may incessantly rise to view, through-
out the lapse of unceasing duration. But, in the
prospect of all these solemn and important events,
he beh:lds — in that almighty energy which wheels
our globe around from day to day, and impels it
in its annual course, and which directs, at the
same time, the movements of all the hosts of
heaven — the exertion of a benevolent power,
which is calculated to inspire him with love and
confidence, and wliich is able to secure his hap-
piness amidst the revolutions of worlds, and
amidst all the scenes through which he may pass
during an immortal existence. Under this im-
pression, he can adopt the affectionate and tri-
umphant language of the psalmist — " Whom have
I in heaven but thee, and there is none upon earth
that I desire beside thee! My heart and my flesh
shall fiil, but God is the strength of my heart, and
my portion forever.^'

Thus it appears, that the omnipotence of God
is one of tho.se attributes of Ins nature which is
particularly calculated to fill the mind with sen-
timents of love and confidence, admiration and
reverence. And, if such emotions be at all excited
in the mind, they must rise to the highest pitch
of elevation to which we can carry them; for
there is no other object oi being that possesses
the same perfection, or can claim the same de-
gree of affection and love. If we love God at all,
it must be " with all our heart, with all our under-
standing, and with all our strength." The con-
siderations to which I have now adverted, have
been too seldom taken into view in moral and
religious discussions on this topic. The omnipo-
tence of th-e Deity is seldom exhibited as a ground
and an excitement of veneration and love, and
yet it stands, as it were, on the forefront of the
divine character, giving beauty and efficiency to
all his other perfections: without which wisdom,

benevolence, faithfulness, mercy, and patienc0|
would degenerate into empty names, and form no
solid foundation for the exercise of confidence
and hope. And, therefore, it is the duty of every
Christian, to endeavor, by every proper means, to
enlarge his conceptions of the operations of om-
nipotence, and to familiarize his mind to contem*
plations of the magnitude, motions, grandeur,
and immensity of God's works, in order that hi«
love to God may be elevated and expanded, and
his faith and hope strengthened and invigorated-
To tlii.-; attribute of Jehovah the inspired writers
unifor;iily direct our views, as a source of joy and
confidence. "Praise ye the Lord, — praise him,
ye servants of the Lord; for I know that Jehovah
is great, and that our Lord is above all Gods.
Whatever the Lord pleased, that did he, in hea-
ven, and in earth, in the seas, and all deep places
Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised; his
greatness is unsearchable. I will speak of the
glorious honor of thy majesty, and of thy won-
drous works. I will speak of the might of thy
terrible acts, and will declare thy greatness; to
make known to the sons of men thy mighty op-
erations, and the glorious majesty of thy kingdom.
Happy is he who hath the God of Jacob for his
help, whose hope is in the Lord his God, who
made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in
them is, who keepeth truth forever."

SECTION IV.
On the wisdom and goodness of God.

Another feature in the divine character, which
is calculated to excite our most ardent affection,
is, the Wisdom and Goodness of God. These two
attributes may be considered under one head,
since they are always inseparable in their opera-
tion. Goodness proposes the end, namely, the
happiness of the sensitive and intelligent creation;
and Wisdom selects the most proper means^ for its
accomplishment.

Wlierever genius appears combined with be-
nevolent intentions and beneficent operations, we
cannot withold a certain portion of affection and
regard.

When we behold a man like Howard, devoting
his wealth, his knowledge, his intellectual and ac-
tive powers, to alleviate the sorrows, and to pro-
mote the happiness of his fellow-men — when we
behold him in retirement at his native mansion,
a universal blessing to his neighbors around him,
furnishing employment for the poor, erecting
schools for the instruction of their cliildren,
watching over the morals of his neighborhood,
visiting the abodes of affliction, acting the part of
a physician to their bodies, imparting spiritual in-
struction to their souls, promoting the knowledge
and practice of religion, and extending his benev-
olent regards to persons of all religious persua-
sions— when we behold him leaving his native
country and the friends of his youth, on a tour
of benevolence over all Europe and the East;
hazarding his health and his life in the service of
humanity, diving into the depths of dungeons,
plunging into the infected atmospheres of hospi-
tals and jails, visiting the lonely and squalid priso-
ner, entering the wretched hovels of sorrow and
affliction, administering consolation and relief, and
surveying the dimensions of misery and distress
among men of all nations, for the purpose of de-
vising schemes for the relief of the distresses of
suffering humanity, and for promoling the com*

WISDOM AND GOODNESS OF GOD.

15

forts of mankind— when such a character appears
on tlie stage of life, there is no class of the human
race, whose powers are not completely viliated,
but must feel toward it strong emotions of esteem
. nd pftcctionr-te regard.

But what are all the wise and beneficent de-
signs r)f a fellow-mortal, when compared with
Ihe numerous and diversified streams of benevo-
leiicfc winch are incessantly flowing from the un-
created source of felicity 1 They are but as a
drop tc the ocean, or as an atom when compared
with tho immensity of the universe. On him all
beings depend, from the archangel to the 'Worm;
from Him they derive their comforts; to Him
they are indebted for all their powers and facul-
ties; and on him their eternal felicity depends.
Were we to prosecute this subject to any extent,
it would lead us into a field on which volumes
might be written and yet the greater part of the
displays of divine beneficence would I'emain un-
recorded. I shall therefore confine myself to the
selection of only a few instances of the wisdom
and goodness of God.

Wherever we turn our eyes in the world
around us, we behold innumerable instances of
our Creator's beneficence. In order that the eye
and the ima(/inaiion may be gratified and charm-
ed, he has spread over the surface of our terres-
trial habitation an assemblage of the richest co-
lors, whi'h beautify and adorn the landscape of
tJie earth, and present to our view a picturesque
and diversified scenery, which is highly gratifying
to the principle of novelty implanted in the hu-
man mind. On all sides we behold a rich variety
of beauty and magnificence. Here, spread the
wide plains and fertile fields, adorned with fruits
ana Perriure; there, the hills rise in gentle slopes,
and the mountains rear their snowy tops to the
clouds, distilling from their sides the brooks
and rivers, which enliven and fertilize the plains
tlirough which they flow. Here, the lake stretches
into a smooth expanse in the bosom of the moun-
tains; there, the rivers meander through the forests
azid the flowery fields, diversifying the rural scene,
and distributing health and fertility in their train.
Here, we behold the rugged cliffs and the stately
port of the forest; there, we are charmed with
tlie verdure of the meadow, the enamel of flowers,
the azure of the sky, and the gay coloring of the
morning and evening clouds. In order that this
scene of beauty and magnificence might be ren-
dered visible. He formed the element of light,
witliout which the expanse of the universe would
be a boundless desert, and its beauties forever
vailed from our sight. It opens to our view the
mountains, the hills, the vales, the woods, the
lawns, the flocks and herds, the wonders of the
mighty deep, and the radiant orbs of heaven. It
paints a thousand different hues on the objects
around us, and promotes a cheerful and extensive
intercourse among all the inhabitants of the globe.

Again, in order to gratify the sense of hearing,
He formi'd the atmosphere, and endowed it with
an undulating quality, that it might waft to our
ears the pleasures of sound, and all the charms of
mu uc. Tlie murmuring of the brooks, the whis-
per^ of the gentle breeze, the sootliing sound of
tlie rivulet, the noise of the waterfall, the hum
Df bees, the buzz of insects, the chirping of birds,
the soft notes of the nightingale, and the melody
of thousands of the feathered songsters, which fill
the groves with their warblings, produce a plea-
sant variety of delightful emotions; — the nume-
rous modulations of the human voice, the articu-
•ate sounds peculiar to the human species, by
^Kich the interchanges of thought and affection

are promoted, the soft notes of the piano forte, th»
solemn sounds of the organ — and even the roar-
ing of the stormy ocean, the dashings of tho
mighty cataract, and the rolling thunders which
elevate the soul to sentiments of sublimity and
awe — are all productive of a mingled variety of
pleasures; and demonstrate that the distribution of
happiness is one grand -end of the operations of
our bountiful Creator.

To gratify the sense of smelling, he has per-
fumed the air with a variety of delicious odord,
which are incessantly exhaled from a thousand
plants and flowers. Countless millions of these
odoriferous particles, which elude the penetialing
power of the finest microscope to discover, are
continually wafted about by the air, and floating
around us, impenious to the sight, the hearing,
and the touch, but calculated to convey pleasure
to the soul, through the medium of the olfactory
nei-ves, and to enable us to " banquet on tho
invisible dainties of nature."

To gratify the sense oi feeling, he has connect-
ed pleasure with the contact of almost everything
we have occasion to touch, and has rendered it
subservient for warning us of whatever may be dis-
agreeable or dangerous. Had a malevolent being
constructed the body of man, and formed the
arrangements of external nature, he might have
rendered the contact of every object of touch as
acutely painful as when we clasp a prickly shrub,
or thrust our fingers against the point of a needle.

To gratify the sense of taste, and to nourish
our bodies, he has furnished us with a rich va-
riety of aliments, distributed not with a niggardly
and a sparing hand, but with a luxuriant profu-
sion, suited to the tastes of every sentient being,
and to the circumstances of the inhabitants of
every clime. He has not confined his bounty
merely to the relief of our necessities, by confiii"
ing us to the use of a few tasteless herbs and
roots, but has covered the surface of the earth
with an admirable profusion of plants, herbs,
grains, and delicious fruits of a thousand different
qualities and tastes, which contribute to the sen-
sitive enjoyment and comfort of man. In almost
every region of the earth, corn is to be found in
the valleys surrounded by the snowy mountains
of the North, as well as in the verdant plains of
the Torrid Zone. In warm regions, cool and de-
licious fruits are provided for the refreshment of
the inhabitants, and the trees are covered with
luxuriant foliage to screen fliem from the inten-
sity of the solar heat!* Every season presents
us with a variety of fruits peculiar to itself, dis-
tributed by the munificent hand of the "Giver of
all good." The month of June presents us with
cabbages, cauliflowers, and cherries; July, with
gooseberries, raspberries, peaches, and apricots;
August and September scatter before us, in luxu-
riant abundance, plums, figs, ajjples, pears, tur-
nips, carrots, cresses, potatoes, and, above all.

* The manner in wliich the Creator lias contrive;! a supply
for the tliirst of man, in sultry places, is worthy of admira-
tion.— He has placed amidst the burning sands of Africn, a
plant, wlio-e leaf, twisted round like a cruet, is always till-
ed with a lar^e glass full of fresh water; the gullet of this
cruet is shut IJy tlie extremity of the leaf itself so as to pre-
vent the water from evaporating. He has planted in soma
other districts of the same country, a n^reat tree, called by
the negroes boa, the trnnk of whicii, of a prodigious Inilk, is
naturally hollowed like a cistern. In the rainy season, it
receives its fill of water, which continues fresh and cool in
the greatest heats, by means of the tufled foliage which
crowns its summit. In some of the ))arched, rocky islands
in the West Indies, there is found a tree called the jailor
liannc, so full of sap, that if you cut a single branch of it, as
much water is immediately discharged as a man can drink
at a draught, and it is perfectly pnre and limpid. Se«
Pierre's " Uludics ofj^'ature."

16

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

wheat, oats, rye, and barley, which constitute the
"staff ol" bread " for the support of man and beast;
and ailiiough we are indebted chiefly to the summer
and autumn for tiiese ricii presents, yet, by tlie
assistance of Iniman art, we can preserve and en-
joy tiie greater part during winter and spring.
The soiT which produces tiiese dainties has never
yet lost its fertility, though it has brought forth
the harvests of six thousand years, but still repays
our labor with its annual treasures; — and, were
Bsltish man animated with tlie same liberal and
generous views as his munificent Creator, every
individual of the human family would be plenti-
fully supplied with a share of these rich and deli-
cious bounties of nature.

In fine, the happiness of man appears to be
the object of the divine care, every returning sea-
son, every moment, by day and by night. By
day, He cheers us with the enlivening beams of
the sun, which unfolds to us the beauty and the
verdure of the fields; and lest the constant efflux
of his light and heat should enfeeble our bodies,
and wither the tender herbs, he commands the
clouds to intei-jiose as so many magnificent
screens, to ward off the intensity of the solar rays.
When the earth is drained of its moisture, and
parched with heat, he bids the clouds condense
their watery treasures, and fly from other regions
on the wings of the wind, to pour their waters
upon the fields, not in overwhelming and destruc-
tive torrents, but in small drops and gentle show-
ers, to refresh the thirsty soil, and revive the vege-
table tribes. He has spread under our feet a car-
pet of lovely green richer than all the productions
of the Persian loom, and has thrown around our
habitation an azure canopy, which directs our
view to the distant regions of infinite space. — By
night, he draws a vail of darkness over the moun-
tains and the plains, that we may be enabled to
penetrate to the regions of distant worlds, and be-
hold the moon walking in brightness, the aspects
of the planetary globes, the long trains of comets,
and the innumerable host of stars. At this sea-
son, too, all nature is still, that we may enjoy in
quiet the refreshments of sleep, to invigorate our
mental and corporeal powers. "As a mother
stills every little noise, that her infant be not dis-
turbed; as she draws the curtain around its bed,
and shuts out the light from its tender eyes; so
God draws the curtains of darkness around us, so
he makes all things to be hushed and still, that his
large family may sleep in peace." — In a word, if
we look around us to the forests which cover the
mountains, or if we look downward to the quar-
ries and mines in the bowels of the earth, we be-
hold abundance of materials for constructing our
habitations, for embellishing the abodes of civilized
life, and for carrying forward improvements in
the arts and sciences. And, if we consider the
surrounding atmosphere, we shall find it to con-
tain the principle of life, and the element of fire,
by means of which our winter evenings are cheer-
ed and illuminated in the absence of the sun. —
Contemplating all these benign agencies as flow-
ing from the care and benevolence of our Al-
mighty Parent, the pious mind may adopt the
beautiful language of the poet, though in a sense
Bomewhat different from what he intended:
" For me kind Nature wakes her genial power,

Snckles each herb, and spreads out every flower;

Annual for me, the grape, the rose renew

The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew;

For me the mine a thousand treasures brings;

For me health gushes from a thousand sprino's;

Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me, rise;

My footstool earth, my canopy the skies." — Pope.

Viewing the various scenes and harmonies of

nature, in relation to man, and to the gratificatiof
of his different senses, we may also say, in th»
language of Akenside, in his poem " On the Plea
sures of Imagination," that

' Not a breeze

Flies o'er the meadow, not a clottd imbibes
The setting sun's effulgence; not a strain
From all the tenants of the warbling shade
Ascends, but whence his bosom can partake

Fresh pleasure and delight.

The rolling waves, the sun's unwearied couiM
The elements and seasons, all declare
For what the Eternal Maker has ordain'dw
The powers of man: we feel within ourselves
His energy divine: He tells the heart
He meant, He made us to behold and love
What He beholds and loves, the general orb
Of life and being: to be great like Him,
Beneticent and active."

Let us now consider, for a few moments, the
wisdom which is displayed in the harmonious
adjustment of the organs of sense to the scenes of
external nature. All the scenes of beauty, gran-
deur, and benignity, which surround us, in the
earth and heavens, would remain as one mighty
blank, unproductive of enjoyment, unless oui
bodies were " fearfully and wonderfully" framedi
and endowed with organs fitted for enabling us t<e
hold a correspondence with the material world
Ten thousands of vessels, tubes, bones, musclea.
ligaments, membranes, motions, contrivances, and
adaptations, beyond the reach of the human un-
derstanding fully to investigate or to comprehend^
must be arranged, and act in harmonious concert
before any one sense belonging to man can per-
ceive and enjoy its objects.

Before the eye can behold a landscape, and bs
charmed with its beauties, it was requisite thai
three humors should be formed, of different sizeSi
different densities, and different refractive powert
— three coats, or delicate membranes, with soma
parts opaque, and some transparent, some blackf
and some white, some of them formed of radial,
and some with circular fibers, composed of threads
finer than those of the spider's web The crys-
talline humor required to be composed of two
thousand very thin spherical lamina, or scales, ly-
ing one upon another, every one of these scales
made up of one single fiber, or finest thread,
wound in a most stupendous manner, this way,
and that way, so as to run several courses, and to
meet in as many centers. This curious and deli-
cate piece of organization required to be com-
pressed into the size of a ball of only half an inch
in diameter, and a socket composed of a number
of small bones, to be hollowed out and exactly
fitted for its reception. A bed of loose fat for
this ball to rest upon, a lid or curtain to secure it
from danger, a variety of muscles to enable it to
move upward and downward, to the right and to
the left, and a numerous assemblage of minute
veins, arteries, nerves, lymphatics, glands, and
other delicate pieces of animal machinery, of
which we have no distinct conception, were still
requisite to complete this admirable organ. Even
in this state it would be of no use for the purpose
of vision, unless it were connected with the brain
by the optic nerve, through the medium of which
the impressions of visible objects are conveyed tO
the soul. Still, in addition to all these contri-
vances, a wonderful machinery requires to be in
action, and an admirable effect produced, before a
landscape can be contemplated. Ten thousand
millions of rays, compounded of a thousand dif-
ferent shades of color, must fly off in every direc-
tion from the objects which compose the surround-
ing scene, and be compressed into the space of

WISDOM AND GOODNESS OF GOD.

17

one-eighth of an inch, in order to enter the eye,
and must paint every object in its true color,
form, and proportion, on a space not exccedifig
half an inch in diameter. Were any one of the
parts which compose this complicated machine
cither wanting or deranged; were it changed into
a different form, or placed in a different position;
were even a single muscle to lose its capacity of
acting, we might he forever deprived of all the
enchanting prospects of the earth and heavens,
and enveloped in the darkness of eternal night.
Such is the skill and intelligence requisite for ac-
complishing, even in a single organ, tiie purposes
of divine benevolence.

Again, before we could enjoy the harmony of
sounds, the charms of music, and the pleasures
of conversation, an instrument no less wonderful
than the eye required to be constructed. In the
ear, which is the organ of hearing, it was requi-
eite, that there sliould be an outward porch for
collecting the vibrations of the air, construct'-d,
not of fleshy substances, which might fall down
upon the orifice, or absorb the sounds, nor of solid
bones, which would occasion pain and inconve-
nience when we repose ourselves — but composed
of a cartilaginous substance, covered with a
smooth membrane, endowed with elasticity, and
bent into a variety of circular folds, or hollows,
for the reflection of sound. It was farther requi-
site, that there should be a tube, or passage, com-
posed partly of cartilage, and partly of bone, lined
with a skin or membrane, and moistened with a
glutinous matter, to form a communication with
the internal machinery of tliis organ, where the
principal wonders of hearing are performed. This
machinery consists, first, of the tijinpanum, or
drum of the ear, which consists of a dry, thin,
and round membrane, stretched upon a bouy
ring; so as actually to resemble the instrument
we call a drum. Under this membrane is a small
nerve, or string, stretched tight for the purpose
of str«tching or relaxing the drum, and increasing
or diminishing its vibrations, so as to render it ca-
pable of reflecting every possible tone. Behind
it is a cavity, hewn out of the temporal bone, the
hardest one in the body, in which tliere seems to
be an echo, by which the sound is reflected with
the utmost precision. This cavity contains four
very small, but remarkable bones, denominated
the hairuner, the anvil, the orhicular hone, and the
Stirrup, all connected together, and necessary for
contributing to the extension and vibration of the
tympanum. In this cavity are also formed vari-
ous windings or cavities filled with air; and, in
order that the air may be renewed, there is an
opening wliich communicates with the back part
of the mouth, called the Eustachian tube.

The next apparatus belonging to this curious
machine, is the lahijrintli, which is composed of
three parts, the vestibule, or porch, three semicircu-
lar canals, and tlie cncldea. This last is a canal,
which takes a spiral course, like the shell of a
snail, and is divided by a very thin lamina or
septum of cords, which keeps decreasing from the
base to the top. The air acting on either side of
these diminutive cords, produces a motion nearly
In the same manner as the sound of one musical
instrument excites a tremulo\is motion in the
cords of another. All these tubes, and winding
canals, may be considered as so many sounding
gall or es, for augmenting the smallest tremors,
and conveying their impressions to the auditory
nerves, which conduct them to tiie brain. Beside
the several parts now mentioned, a number of ar-
teries, Veins, lymphatics, glands, and a variety of
other co'trivauces, which the human mind can

neither trace nor comprehend, are connejted with
the mechanism of this admirable organ.
. All this curious and complicated apparatus,
however, would have been of no avail for the
purpo.se of hearing, had not the atmospjiere been
formed, and its particles endowed with a tremu-
lous motion. But, this medium being prepared,
a sounding body communicates an undulatory
motion to the air, as a stone thrown into a pond
produces circular waves in the water ; the air,
thus put in motion, shakes the drum of the ear;
the tremors, thus excited, produce vibrations in
the air within tlie drum; this air sliakcs the handle
of the hammer ; the hammer strikes the anvil,
with which it is articulated; the anvil transmits
the motion to the stirrup, to which its longer leg
is fastened; the stirrup transmits the motion it has
received to the nerves, and the nerves, vibrating like
the stringsof a violin, or lyre, and the motion being
still further augmented in the labyrinth, — the soul,
in a manner altogether incomprehensible to us, re-
ceives an impression proportioned to the weakness
or intensity of the vibration produced by the
sounding body. Such is the exquitsile and com-
plicated machinery which required to be con-
structed, and presei-ved in action every moment,
before we could enjoy the benefits of sound, and
the pleasures of articulate conversation.

Again, before we could enjoy the pleasures of
feeling, an extensive system of organization re-
quired to be arranged. A system of nerves, ori-
ginating in the brain and spinal, marrow, and
distributed, in numberless minute ramifications,
through the heart, lungs, bowels, blood-vessels,
liands, feet, and every other part of the body, was
requisite to beinterwoveft through the whole con-
stitution of the animal frame, before this sense,
which is tlie foundation of all the otlier sensations,
and the source of so many pleasures, could be
produced. Wherever there are nerves, there are
also sensations; and wherever any particular part
of the body requires to exert a peculiar feeling,
there the nerves are arranged and distributed in a
peculiar manner, to produce tlie intended effect.
And how nicely is everything arranged and at-
tempered, in this respect, to contribute to our
comfort! If the points of the fingers require to
be endowed with a more delicate sensation tJian
several other parts, thej^ are furnished with a cor-
responding number of nervous ramifications; if
the heel require to be more callous, the nerves are
more sparingly distributed. If feelings wereequally
distributed over the whole body, and as acutely
sensible as in the membranes of the eye, our very
clothes would become galling and insupportable,
and we should be exposed to continual pain; and
if every part were as insensible as the callus of the
heel, the body would be benumbed, the pleasures
we derive from this sense would be destroyed, and
the other organs of sensation could not 'perform
their functions in the manner in which they now
operate. .So that in this, as well as in all the other
sensitive organs, infinite wisdom is admirably dis-
played in exi^cuting the designs of benevolence.

In order tlrit we might derive enjoyment from
the various aliments and delicious fruits which the
earth produces, a peculiar organization, diflerent
from all ilie other senses, was requisite to be de-
vised. Before we could relish the peculiar flavor
of the pear, the apple, the peach, the plum, or the
grape, the tongue, the principal organ of taste, re-
quired to be formed, and its surface covered with
an infinite number of nervous papillcB, curiously
divaricated over its surface, to receive and convey
to the soul the impressions of every flavor. Theso
nerves required to be guarded with a firm and

18

PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

proper tegument or covering, to defend them from
danger, and enable them to perform tlieir func-
tions so long as life continues; and at the same
tune, to be perforated in such a manner, with a
multitude of pores, in the papillary eminences, as
to give a free admission to every variety of taste.
It was likewise necessary, that these papillary
nerves should be distributed in the greatest num-
ber, in those parts of the organ to which the ob-
jects of taste aro most frequently applied ; and
hence we find, that they are more numerous on
the upper than on the lower parts of the tongue;
and, therefore, when we apply highly-flavored sub-
stances to the under part, we are not so sensible
of the taste, until we remove them to the upper
surface. A variety of veins, arteries, glands, ten-
dons, and other parts with which we are unac-
quainted, are also connected with this useful or-
gan. When we consider how frequently these
delicate organs are used, during a length of years,
it is matter of admiration how well they wear.
While our clothes wear out in the course of a
year or two, while the hairs of our heads turn
gray, and are nipped asunder at the roots, and
while age shrivels the most beautiful skin, these de-
licate nervous papillaj last longer than instruments
of iron or steel; for the sense of taste is generally
the last that decays. For the bestowment of this
sense, therefore, and the pleasures it conveys, we
have abundant reason to admire and adore the
wisdom and goodness of our Almighty Creator.

Finally, that we might be regaled with the scent
of flowers, and the aromatic perfumes of spring
and summ'er, and tliat none of the pleasures of
nature might be lost, the organ of smelling was
constructed to catch the invisible odoriferous efflu-
via which are continually wafted through the air.
For this purpose it was requisite that bones,
nerves, muscles, arteries, veins, cartilages, and
membranes, peculiarly adapted to produce this
effect, should be arranged, and placed in a certain
part of the body. As the bones of the head are
too hard for this purpose, the nerves of smelling
required to have a bone of a peculiar texture, of
a spongy nature, full of little holes, like a sieve,
through which they might transmit their slender
threads or branches to the papillous membrane
which lines the cavities of the bone and the top
of the nostrils. The nostrils required to be carti-
laginous and not fleshy, in order to be kept open,
and to be furnished with appropriate muscles to
dilate or contract them as the occasion might re-
quire. It was likewise requisite, that they should
be wide at the bottom, to collect a large quantity
of effluvia, and narrow at the top, where the
olfactory nerves are condensed, that the effluvia
might act with the greatest vigor, and convey the
sensation to the brain. By means of these and
numerous other contrivances, connected with this
organ, we are enabled to distinguish the qualities
of our food, and to regale ourselves on those in-
visible eflluvia which are incessantly flying off
from the vegetable tribes, and wafted in every
direction through the atmosphere.

Of all the senses with which we are furnished,
the s> nse of smelling is that which we are apt to
consider as of the least importance; and some
have even been ready to imagine, that our enjoy-
ments would scarcely have been diminished al-
though its organs had never existed. But, it is
presumptuous in man to hazard such an opinion
in reference to any of the beneficent designs of
the Creator. We know not what relation the
minutest operations, within us or around us, may
bear to the whole economy of nature, or what
disastrous effects might be produced, were a single !

pin of the machinery of our bodies broken or de-
stroyed. The exhalations which are, at this mo-
ment, rising from a putrid marsh in the center of
New Holland, and hovering in an invisible form,
over that desolate region, may be forming those
identical clouds which, the next month, shall wa-
ter our fields and gardens, and draw forth from
the flowers their aromatic perfumes. The sense
of smelling may be essentially requisite to the
perfection of several of the other senses; as wo
know that the sense of feeling is inseparably con-
nected with the senses of seeing, hearing, and
tasting. Let us consider, for a moment, some of
the agencies which require to be exerted when
this sense is exercised and gratified. Before. we
could derive pleasure from the fragrance of a
flower, it was requisite that a system of the finest
tubes, filaments, and membranes should be organ-
ized, endowed with powers of absorption and per-
spiration, furnished with hundreds of vessels for
conveying the sap through all its parts, and per-
forated with thousands of pores to give passage to
myriads of odoriferous particles, secreted from
the internal juices. It was also requisite that the
atmosphere should be formed, for the purpose of
affiarding nourishment to the plant, and for con-
veying its odoriferous effluvia to the olfactory
nerves. The rains, the dews, the principle of heat,
the revolution of the seasons, the succession of
day and night, the principle of evaporation, tha
agitation of the air by winds, and the solar light,—
all combine their inl^uence and their agencies in
producing the grateful sensation we feel from the
smell of a rose. So that the sense of smelling is
not only connected with the agency of all the
terrestrial elements around us, but bears a relation
to the vast globe of the sun himself; for an energy
exerted at-the distance of ninety-five millions of
miles, and a motion of 200,000 miles every second,
ill the particles of light, are necessary to its ex-
istence; and consequently, it forms one of the
subordinate ends for which that luminary was
created: — and, being related to the sun, it may
bear a certain relation to similar agencies which
that central globe is producing among the inhabi-
tants of surrounding worlds.

Thus it appears, that the various senses of man,
as well as the external objects which contribute
to their gratification, are the results of infinite
wisdom and goodness, and calculated to promote
the happiness of sensitive and intelligent beings.

But, before any one of these senses could per-
form its functions, it required to be united with a
most wonderful system' of ol-ganization. The
heart required to be endowed with an immense
degree of muscular power, and to be set in action
in the center of this complicated system — hun-
dreds of arteries required to be bored, and rami-
fied, and arranged, to convey the blood to its re-
motest extremities, and hundreds of veins to bring
it back again to its reservoir — thousands of lacteal
and lymphatic tubes to absorb nutriment from the
food, and convey it to the circulating fluid — thou-
sands of glands to secrete humors that are noxious
or redundant from the mass of blood, and emunc-
tories to throw them off" from the system — hun-
dreds of muscles for moving the different members
of the body, and for conveying the whole corpo-
real frame from place to place — hundreds of fine
cords infinitely ramified over the whole body, to
convey sensation to all its parts; and thousanda
of millions of perforations to be made in the skin,
through which the insensible perspiration might
continually flow. To support this fine and deli«
cate system of vessels, hundreds of bones of di-
versified forms, and different sizes, and connected

WISDOM AND GOODNESS OF GOD.

19

together by various modes of articulation, required
to be constructed and arranged, and nicely adapted
to their peculiar functions; and hundreds of ten-
dons and ligaments, to connect these bones with
the muscles, and with every other part of the ani-
snal frame. This machine required to be pre-
•erved in constant action, whether we be sleeping
»r waking, sitting or standing, in motion or at
rest. The heart required to give ninety-six thou-
land strokes every twenty-four hours, to send off
Btreams of the vital fluid through hundreds of
tubes, and to impel' the whole mass of blood
through every part of the body every four mi-
nutes. The lungs required to be in constant play,
expanding and contracting their thousand vesicles,
at least twenty times every minute, to imbibe the
oxygen of the atmosphere, and to transmit its
enlivening influence to the circulating fluids —
the stomach to be dissolving the food, and prepar-
ing it for the nourishment of the body — the liver
and kidneys to be drawing off their secretions —
tlie lacteals to be extracting nutritious particles,
to be conveyed, by the absorbent vessels, into the
mass of blood — and the perspiration, which might
otherwise clog the wheels of the whole machine,
to be thrown off incessantlj'^ through millions of
pores. All this curious and delicate machinery,
constructed of the most flabby substances, re-
quired to be put in motion, and to be preserved in
action every moment, before we could contem-
plate the beauties of a landscape, be delighted
with the sounds of music, or inhale the fragrance
of a r«se.

It is worthy of notice, that, in the construction
and arrangement of these numerous and compli-
cated parts and functions, there is not a single
Instance, that any physiologist can produce, in
which pain is the object of the contrivance. Of
all the thousands of adaptations which infinite
Wisdom has contrived, there is not one but what
has for its object the communication of pleasure
tc t!ie sentient being in wJiich it is found. If a
nun'vber of small muscles are connected with the
eye, it is for the purpose of rendering that organ
susceptible of a quick and easy motion in every
direction, to meet every exigence. If the arteries
are furnished with' numerous valves, opening only
In one direction, it is intended to prevent the blood
from returning by a wrong course, and endanger-
ing the whole structure of the animal machine.
If a joint is formed to move only in one direction,
as the jpints of the fingers, it is intended to pre-
vent those inconveniences which would inevitably
iiave been felt, had it been capable of moving in
every direction. If another kind of joint is con-
structed so as to move in every direction, it is in-
tended to enable us to perform, with facility, those
movements and operations which would otherwise
have been either impossible, or have been attended
with the greatest inconvenience and pain. There
are certain parts connected with the human frame,
whose precise use cannot be accurately determin-
ed, but this is owing to our limited knowledge of
the various functions which are requisite to be
performed in this complicated machine. In no
instance whatever can it be shown, that the in-
fliction of pain is the object of any one part or
function of whose use we are uncertain; — and it
is conformable to the dictates of the soundest rea-
son to conclude, that, since every part, whose use
we can ascertain, is adapted to communicate plea-
sure, every other part, throughout every branch
of the animal system, is calculated to produce a
similar effect.

It is true, indeed, that pain is frequently felt in
(he different members which compose our corpo-

Vol. I.— 18

real system; but this is not owing to its original
construction, but to the derangement whicli ita
parts receive, either from internal disease or from
external violence: and such consequences are tho
effects either of the folly of man, in exposing hia
body to danger, or in using its members for im-
proper purposes, — or of the physical changes
which have happened in the system of nature
since man was created, — or of those depraved and
immoral passions which so frequently agitate and
convulse his corporeal frame.

Let us now endeavor, if we can, to sum up a
few of the blessings which we enjoy from these
wise arrangements of our beneficent Creator. In
our bodies there are reckoned 245 bones, each of
them having forty distinct scopes or intentions,
and 446 muscles for the purpose of motion, each
having at least ten several intentions. All these
are ready every moment to perform their func-
tions; and every breath we draw, whether we be
in motion or at rest, asleep or awake, a hundred
muscles at least are in constant action. In the
act of breathing, we respire at least twenty times
every minute; the heart exerts its muscular force
in propelling the blood into the arteries sixty times
every minute; the stomach and abdominal mus-
cles are every moment in action, and the curio-us
little bones of the ear are ever ready to convey
sensations of the softest whisper to the brain. So
that, without an hyperbole, or the least extrava-
gance of expression, it may truly and literally be
said, that we enjoy a thousand blessings every mi-
nute, and, consequently, sixty thousand every
hour, and one million four hundred and forty
thousand every day. For, if any one of these
numerous functions were to stop, or to be inter-
rupted, pain, and even death itself might be in-
duced. Let us ask the man who is gasping for
breath, under an incurable asthma, or liim who is
smarting under the pain of a toothache, or him
who has v/ounded a nerve, an artery, or a vein^
or him who has dislocated his shouldei--blade, if
he would not consider it as a peculiar blessing to
have the functions of nature restored to their ori-
ginal action? And if one member out of joint,
or one function out of order, produces so much
pain and uneasiness, how grateful ought we to
feel for the thousands of blessings wc enjoy every
moment, while the u'heels of the animal machine
are moving on with smoothness and harmony!
^f we consider the number of years during which
these blessings have been continued,' — if we con-
sider the mercies received in childhood, which
have been long overlooked or forgotten,' — if we
count the many nights which we have passed in
sound repose, and tlie many daj's we have enjoyed
without bodily pain, — if we reflect -on the nu-
merous objects of sublimity and beauty with
which our eyes have been delighted, the numer-
ous sounds which have charmed our ears and
cheered our hearts, and the numerous gratifica-
tions which our other senses have received; if wo
consider how often food has been provided and
administered for the nourishment of our bodies,
and from how many visible and invisible dangers
we have been delivered — and, if we view all thesn
countless blessings as proceedirj every moment
from Ilim, " whose hands have made and fash-
ioned us," and who "breathed into our nostrils
the breath of life," can we forbear to recognize
our Almighty Benefactor as worthy of our su-
preme affection and our most lively gratitude?
" For me, when I forget the clarlinjj theme, —
Ee piy ton^ne mnte, mv fancy paint no more.
And, (leaJ to joy, forjjet my heart to beat."

Under an impression of the diversified agencies

20

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

of Divine Wisdom which are incessantly contri-
buting to our enjoyment, and of the vast profusion
of our Creator's bsneticenco wiiich we behold
around us, and experience every passing hour, can
we forbear exclaiming with the enraptured poet: —

" When all thy mercies, O my God!

My rising soul surveys,
Transporteil with the view, I'm lost

In wonder, love, and praise.
Through every period ot" my life

Tliy goodness I'll proclaim;
And, after death, in distant worlds,

Renew the glorious theme.
Through all eternity to Thee

A joyful sons; I'll raise;
For, oil! eternity 's too short

To uttpr all thy praise."

If. then, the construction of our bodies, and the
terrestrial scene in which we are placed, present
60 many striking displays of wisdom and benevo-
lence, what an astonisjiing and transporting scene
of divine benignity would burst upon the view,
were we permitted to explore those more exten-
sive provinces of the empire of Omnipotence,
where phj-sical and moral evil have never shed
their baleful influence to interrupt the happiness
of intellectual natures! Could we soar beyond
tlie regions of the planetary system; could we
penetrate into that immensity of worlds and be-
ings which are scattered in magnificent profusion
through the boundless fields of ctlier; could we
draw aside the vail which now conceals the gran-
deur and beauty of their physical economy and
arrangements; could we behold their inhabitants
arrayed in robes of beauty, with ecstatic joy beam-
ing from their countenances, basking perpetually
in the regions of bliss, united to one another by
indissoluble bands of love and affection, without
the least apprehension of evil, or of an interrup-
tion to their enjoyments; and looking forward
with confidence to an interminable succession of
delighted existence; could we retrace the history
of their Creator's dispensations toward them since
the first moment of their existence, and the pecu-
liar displays of divine glory and benignity, that
may occasionally be exhibited to their view, — it is
more than probable, that ail the displays of wis-
dom and benevolence which we now behold, nu-
merous as they are, would be thrown completely
into the shade, and that this world would appear
only as a Lazar-house, when compared with the
bright and transporting scenes of the celestial
worlds. This we are infallibly led to conclude,
in regard to a certain class of intelligences in the
future state, by the express declarations of Scrip-
ture. For thus it is written, "Eye hath not seen,
nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart
of man, the things which God hath prepared for
them that love him." And if renovated men
shall experience such superior enjoyments in the
eternal world, there can be no doubt that all those
intelligences, in every region, who have retained
their primitive integrity, are at this moment in
the possession of similar transporting enjoj'ments.
It must, therefore, have an additional tendency to
elevate our affections to the Supreme Intelligence,
when we view Him not only communicating hap-
piness to the various tribes of beings which people
our globe, but also distributing streams of felicity
in boundless profusion, among the inhabitants of
unnumbered worlds.

I shall now conclude my illustrations of this
topic, by exhibiting a few instances of the wis-
dom and goodness of God as delineated in the
Sacred Scriptures.

" The Lord is good to all, and his tender mer-
cies are over all his works. He stretched forth

the heavens, and laid the foundation of the earth,
and formeth the spirit of man within him. He
planted the ear, and formed the eye ; and he
breathed into our nostrils the breath of life. In
his hand is the soul of every living thing, and the
breath of all mankind. With him is wisdom and
strength, and his understanding is infinite. He if
wonderful in counsel, and excellent in working
He hath established the world by his wisdom, ana
stretched out the heavens by his understanding
0 the dej)th of the riches both of the wisdom and
the knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his
operations, and his ways past finding out! He
causeth the vapors to ascend from the ends of the
earth; he bindeth up the waters in his thick clouds,
and the cloud is not rent under them. He hath
compassed the waters with bounds, until the day
and night come to an end. He visiteth the earth
and watereth it; he greatly enricheth it with riv-
ers; he prepareth corn for its inhabitants; he wa-
tereth the ridges thereof abundantly; he settleth
the furrows thereof; he maketh it soft with show-
ers; he blesseth the springing thereof; he crown-
eth the year with his goodness, and his paths drop
fatness. The pastures are clothed with flocks;
tlie valleys are covered over with corn, and the
little hills are encircled with joy.*

"He sendeth the springs into the valleys which
run among the hills; they give drink to every
beast of the field. Beside these springs the fowls
of heaven have their habitation, which sing among
the branches. He causeth the grass to grow for
the cattle, and herb for the service of man; "and
wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil
that maketh his face- to shine, and bread that
strengtheneth his heart. He planted the tall trees
and the cedars of Lebanon, where the birds make
their nests, and the storks their dwellings. The
high hills are a refuge for the wild goats, and the
rocks for the conies. He appointed the moon for
1 seasons, and the sun to enlighten the world; he
makes darkness a curtain for the night, until the
I sun arise, when man goeth forth to his work acd
[ to his labor until the evening. How manifold aie
I thy works, 0 Lord! In wisdom hast thou made
them all; the earth is full of thy riches; so is the
great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping
innumerable, both small and great beasts. These
all wait upon thee, that thou mayest give thera
their meat in due season. Thou givest them —
they gather; thou openest thine hand — they are
filled with good. Thou hidest thy face — they are
troubled; thou sendest forth thy spirit — they are
created; and thou renewest the face of the earth
The glory of the Lord shall endure forever; Jeho-
vah shall rejoice in all his Avorks. He is Lord of
heaven and earth; he giveth to all, life, and breath,
and all things; he hath made of one blood all na-
tions of men, to dwell on all the face of the earth;
and hath determined the times before appointed,
and the bounds of their habitation. For in him
we live, and move, and have our being. I will
sing unto Jehovah as long as I live; I will sing
praises to my God, while I have my being; I will
utter abundantly the memory of his great good-
ness, and speak of all his wondrous works."

The inspired writers rise to still higher str?iin
when they celebrate the Divine Goodness in re-
ference to our eternal salvation.

" Praise ye Jehovah, for Jehovah is good ; li4
remembered us in our low estate; for his mercy

• In this, and several other quotations from the Scriptorei,
the literal rendering from the Ilebrew is substituted in placa
of the common translation, and the vpplcments are ft«»

quenlly omitted.

MERCY AND PATIENCE OF GOD.

21

endureth for e'er. I will praise thee, 0 Lord,
my God, with all mj heart, and 1 will glorify thy
name for evermore; for great is thy mercy toward
me, and thou hast delivered my soul from the
lowest hell. God so loved the world, tJiat he
gave his only-hegotton Son, that whosoever he-
lieveth on him should not perish, hut have ever-
lasting life. He sent an angel from the celestial
glory to announce his birth; and a multitude of
the heavenly host to proclaifn, Glory to God in
the highest, peace on earth, and good will to
men. He spared not his own Son, but clelivered
him up for us all — and shall he not with him also
freely give us all things? Blessed be the God
and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath
blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly
things in Christ; in whom we have redemption
through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, accord-
ing to the riches of his grace. — Bless the Lord, 0
my soul, and all that is within me bless his holy
name; who forgiveth all thine iniquities, who
healeth all thy diseases; who redeemeth thy life
from destruction, and crowneth thee with loving
kindness and tender mercies. As the heaven is
high above the earth, so great is his mercy toward
them that fear him. The mercy of Jehovah is
from everlasting to everlasting, upon them that
fear him; and his righteousness unto children's
children. Many, O Lord, my God, are thy won-
derful works, which thou hast done, and thy
tlioughts to us ward; they cannot be reckoned up
in order unto thee; if I would declare and speak
of them, they are more than can be numbered. —
I will praise thee, for I am fearfully and wonder-
fully made: marvelous are thy works. How
precious are thy thoughts (or designs) toward
me, 0 God! how great is the sum of them! If I
should count them, they are more in number
than the sand."

Thus it appears, that both the sj'stem of na-
lire, and the S5'stem of revelation, concur in
exhibiting the wisdom and benevolence of the
Deity as calculated to excite the highest degree
of ardent atfection in the minds of the whole
intelligent creation. If an atom of gratitude is
due to an earthly benefactor, it is impossible to
Bet bounds to that affection and gratitude which
ought incessantly to rise in our hearts toward
the Creator of the universe, who is the " Father
of mercies, and the God of ail consolation."
And, therefore, we need not wonder, that "holy
men of old," whose minds were overpowered
with this sacred emotion, broke out into language
which would be deemed extravagant, by the frigid
moralists of the present age. Under a sense of the
unbounded love and goodness of God, the psalm-
ist felt his heart elated, and formed these pious
resolutions : " Seven times a day will I praise thee,
0 Lord ! At midnight will I rise to give thanks
to thee, because of thy righteous precepts;! will
rejoice in tlie way of thy precepts, as much as
in all riches. The law of thy moutli is better
unto me than thousands of gold and silver. Oh,
how I love thy law! it is my meditation all the
day. I will speak of thy testimonies before kings,
and will not be ashamed of thy commandments.
Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is
none upon earth that I desire beside thee. As
the hart panteth after the brooks of water, so
•anteth my soul after thee, O God!" Under
similar smotions, the Apostle Paul exclaims, " I
•m penuaded that neither death, nor life, nor an-
gels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things
presont, nor things to come, shall be able to se-
parate us from the love of God, which is in Christ
Jesus our Lord."

SECTION V.
Om the mercy and patience of God

Another feature in the divine character, w^hich
is peculiarly calculated to excite admiration, af-
fection, and gratitude, is the vitrcy and patience
of God.

Mercy has its source in the divine goodness,
and may be considered as a particular modifica-
tion of the benevolence of the Deity. Goodness
is the genus, mercy the species. The goodness
of God extends to all the creatures he has formed,
of whatever description or character, — to the fowls
of the air, the fishes of the sea, the microscopic
animalcula, and the most wicked class of human
beings, as well as to angels, archangels, and other
superior intelligences. Mercy can have a refer-
ence only to those who have sinned against their
Maker, and rendered themselves unworthy of his
favors. It consists in the bestowment of bless-
ings upon those who have forfeited every claim
to them, and have rendered themselves obuoxious
to punishment. It cannot be exercised toward
" the angels who have kept their first estate,"
or toward any other class of holy intelligences,
because they do not stand in need of its exercise.
— The patience or forbearance of God, is that at-
tribute of his nature which consists in his bear-
ing long with sinners, and refraining from inflict-
ing deserved punishment, notwithstanding their
impenitence, and long-continued provocations.

These attributes are seldom displayed, in our
world, by one man, or class of men, toward an-
other. Instead of clemency, mercy, and for-
bearance, we find in the character of mankind,
as delineated in the page of history, the principle
of revenge operating more powerfully than almost
any other disposition; and, therefore, when any
striking instance of mercy and long-suffering ia
exhibited in human conduct, we are disposed to
wonder at it, and to admire it as an extraordinary
moral phenomenon. When we behold a per-
sonage who is possessed of every degree of moral
and physical power for crushing his enemies — yet
remaining calm and tranquil, and forbearing to
execute deserved punishment, notwithstanding
repeated insults and injuries, we are led to admire
such qualities, as indicating a certain degree of
greatness and benevolence of mind. On this prin-
ciple, we admire the forbearance of David, the
anointed king of Israel, toward Saul, his bitterest
enemy, when he had an opportunity of slaying'
him at the cave of Engedi; and afterward, when
he was sleeping in a trench at Hachila; — and at
the clemency which he exercised toward Shimei,
who had cursed and insulted him, and treated him
most reproachfully. On the same principle, we
admire the conduct of Sir Walter Raleigh, a man
of known courage and honor, toward a certain
rash, hot-headed youth. Being very injuriously
treated by this impertinent mortal, who next pro-
ceeded to challenge him, and, on his lefusal, spat
on him, and that too in public; — the knight taking
out his handkerchief, with great calmness, made
him only this reply: " Young man, if I could as
easily wipe your blood from my conscience, as I
can tliis injurj' from my face, I would this 130-
meut take away your life."

In order to exhibit the mercy and long-suffer-
ing of the Deity in their true light, let us consi-
der, for a moment, some of the leading features
in the conduct and the character of mankind. —
Whether we go back to the remote ages of an-
tiquity, or review the present moral state of th«
inhabitants of our globe, we shall find the follow-

22

THE FHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

ing, among; other similar traits, in the character
of the great mass of this world's population; — An
vtter forcfetfulncss of God and the prevalence of
abominable idolatries, 'riiougfli an invisible and
omnipotent energy may be clearly |)erceivcd in
tliat majestic maciiinery by which the vaiilt of
heaven appears to be wliirled round our globo
from day to day; and tliough every returning
season procUiims the exuberant goodness of that
Being who arranged our terrestiial habit-.ition, —
yet, of the great majority of hnniau beings that
have hitherto existed, or now exist, it may with
truth bo said, that "God is not in all their
thoughts, and the fear of God is not before their
eyes." And how groveling have been the con-
ceptions of those who have professed to ofTer
their adorations to a superior Intelligence! Tiiey
liave changed the glory of the incorruptible God
into an image made like to corruptible man, and
have invested with the attributes of divinity a
block of marble, the stock of a tree, a stupid ox,
and a crawling reptile: to which they have paid
that worship and homage which were due to the
Almighty .Maker of heaven and earth. — BlaspJeemy
and impiety is another characteristic of the major-
ity of our species. How many have there been
of our wretched race in all ages, and how many
are there in the present age, who "set their
mouths against the heavens in their blasphemous
talk," and "dare defy the Omnipotent to arms! '"
They say to God, " Depart from us, for we desire
not the knowledge of thy ways: What is the Al-
mighty, that we should serve him? and what
profit should we have, if we pray unto him? "
While his hand is making their pulse to beat, and
their lungs to play, and while he is distributing
to them corn, and wine, and fruits in rich abun-
dance, thej' are blaspheming his venerable Ma-
jesty, and prostituting these very blessings for the
purpose of pouring dishonor on his name.

The diabolical passions which men have dis^
played toward one anotlier, is another striking
trait in their character. War has been their em-
ployment and their delight in every age. Thou-
sands of rational beings of the same species have
set themselves in array against thousands, and
have leveled at each other spears, and arrows,
and darts, and musquetry, and cannon, and every
other instrument of destruction, until legs, and
arms, and skulls, and brains, were mingled with
the dust — until the earth was drenched with hu-
man gore — until cities, and towns, and villages,
'were tumbled into ruins, or given up as a prey to
the devouring flames — and until the bounties of
Providence, which God Iiad provided for man and
beast, were destroyed, and trampled down as the
mire of the streets. And, v/hat adds to the enor-
mity of such dreadful passions, they have often
had the effrontery to implore tlie assistance of the
God of mercy in this work of horror and destruc-
tion. When, to all these abominable dispositions
and practices, we add, the numerous other acts of
atrocity, that are daily committed in every quar-
ter of the world, — the oppression and injustice
which the poor, the widow, and the fatherless have
suffered from the overwhelming hand of power;
tlie persecutions which tyranny has inflicted on
tlie select few, who have raised tht-ir voices against
such abominations; the falsehood, and treachery,
and perjury, which are rampant in every land;
the lewd and unnatural crimes that are daily com-
mitted; the thefts, and murders, and assassinations,
that are incessantly perpetrating in some one re-
gion of the world or another; the liaughty pride
and arrogance which so many of the puny sons
of men assume; the murmuriugs and complain-

ings at the dispensations of Providence, and tlio
base ingratitude with which the majority of man-
kind receive the bounties of heaven; — and wlien
we consider, for how many thousands of years
those abominable dispositions have been displayed,
we have reason to wonder that condign punish-
ment is not speedily executed, and that the AU
mighty does not interpose his omnipotence, to
sliatier this globe to atoms, and to bury its inha-
bitants in the gulf of everlasting oblivion.

Yet, notwitlistanding these depraved and un-
grateful dispositions; notwithstanding that this
spacious world, which was erected for a templo
to the Deity, has been turned into a temple of
idols, its seas and rivers stained, and its fields
drenched with the blood of millions of human be-
ings, and its cities transformed into a sink of
moral pollution; in spite of all these innumerable
and aggravated provocations, the God of heaven
still exercises his mercy, long-suffering, and for-
bearance. He impels the earth in its annual and
diurnal course, to bring about the interchanges
of day and night, and the vicissitudes of the sea-
sons; he makes his sun to -arise on the world, to
cheer the nations with his light and heat; he sends
his rains, to refresh the fields, both of " the just,
and of the unjust; " he causes the trees, the
herbs, and the flowers, to bud and blossom every
returning spring; he ripens the fields in harvest;
he crowns the jear with his bounty, and encircles
the little hills with rejoicing. Instead of " sending
fortli his mighty winds," in incessant storms and
hurricanes, to tear up whole forests by their roots,
and to lay waste the productions of the soil, he
fans the groves and the lawns with gentle breezes,
and odoriferous gales. Instead of opening the
cataracts of heaven, and dashing down over-
whelming torrents, to deluge the plains, and frus-
trate the hopes of man, he refreshes the parched
ground with gentle showers, as if thej^ proceeded
from a watering-pot. Instead of confining our
sensitive enjoyments to bread and water, as if we
were the tenants of a jail, he has strewed our gar-
dens and fields with every variety of luxuriant
delicacies, to gratify every appetite. Instead of
directing the lightnings to set on fire the moun-
tains, and to level our cities to the ground, and the
thunders to roll incessantly around us, he com-
mands this terrific meteor to visit us only at dis-
tant intervals, and in its gentler operations, just
to remiuii us what tremendous instruments of
destruction he is capable of wielding, and that we
ought to " be still and know that He is God," and
that " he has punished us less than our iniquities
deserve." 0 that man would praise the Lord for
his mercy, and for his long-suffering toward the
children of men!

This character of God is peculiar to himself,
and cannot be supposed to helong, unless in a
very inferior degree, to any created' intelligence
Were the meekest man that ever appeared on the
theater of our world — or were even one of the
highest intelligences in heaven to be invested
with a portion of the attribute of omniscience;
could he penetrate, at oriC glance, over all that
hemisphere of our globe on which the sun shines,
and, at the next glance, survey the other hemi-
sphere which is enveloped in darkness; could his
eye pierce into the secret chambers of every h ibi-
tation of human beings, in every cit\% and town,
and village, and especially into those haunts whero
crimes are vailed by the shades of night from
every human eye; could he behold at one glance
all the abominations that are hourly perpetrating
in every region of the world — the pagan wor-
shipers in Tliibet and Ilindostan, performing

MERCY AND GOODNESS OF GOD.

23

their cruel and execrable rites — the wheels of
Juggernaut crushing to death its wretched devo-
tees— the liuman victims whicli are tortured and
sacrificed, to gratify the ferocity of some barba-
rous chief — the savage hordes of New Zealand,
feasting on the flesh of their fellow-men, whom
they have cruelly butcliercd, and drinking their
blood out of human skulls — the luuians of Amer-
ica, tearing with jjinchers the flesh of their pri-
soners, and enjoying a diabolical pleasure in be-
holding their torments — the haughty inquisitors
of Spain insulting their devoted victims, in the
name of the merciful Sa-\'iour, and preparing tor-
tures, and stakes, and flames fur tlicir destruc-
tion— the assassin plunging his dagger into his
neighbor's bosom — the midnight robber entering
into the abode of honest industry, strangling its
inmates, and carrying off their treasures — the
kidnapper tearing the poor African from his wife
and children, and native land — tiie unfeeling
planter and overseer lashing his degraded slaves —
tyrants and persecutors dragging " the excellent
ones of the earth " to prisons, to dungeons, and to
gibbets — the malevolent and envious man devi-
Bing schemes for the ruin and destruction of iiis
neiglibor — the mutinous crcvi', in the midst of the
ocean, rising up against their su])eriors, slushing
thern with their sabers, and plunging their bodies
into the deep — the gamester ruining a whole fam-
ily bj' a throw of the dice — the skeptic sporting
with the most sacred truths — the atheist attempt-
ing to defy the Omnipotent — the prostitute wal-
lowing in the mire of uncleanness — the drunkard
blasphi;ming the God of heaven in his midnight
revels — numerous tribes of human beings, in
every quarter of the globe, dashing out each oth-
er's brains in mutual combat — hypocritical pro-
fessors of religion, harboring malice and revenge
against their brethren — and thousands of other
iniquitous scenes which are daily presented be-
fore the pure eyes of Omniscience; could he be-
hold all the abominable acts of this description
which are perpetrated on the surface of our globe,
in the course of a single day, and were the ele-
ments under his control, for executing condign
punishment on transgressors, — it is more than
probable, that, before another day dawned upon
the world, the great globe we inhabit would be
shattered to lis center, and enveloped in devour-
ing flames. For no finite Intelligence could re-
frain his indignation for a length of years, or
could penetrate into all the reasons, why " sen-
tence against an evil work should not be speedily
executed;" why the murderer should not be ar-
rested by death before his hand is lifted up to
strike; why the tyrant should not be cut off be-
fore his victims are secured; and why the slave
should be doomed to drag out so many long j^ears
under the rod of a relentless nuister. But God
beholds all these actions in all their bearings and
relations to the plan of his government, and in
all their eternal consequences; and beholding
them, he "keeps silence," and refrains from exe-
cuting immediate and deserved punishment.

This part of the divine character, when seri-
ously considered, is calculated to excite strong
emotions of admiration and wonder; and these
©motions mvist be raised to their highest pitch,
when we consider the many instruments of ven-
geance which are every moment wielded by the
Band of the Almighty. If forbearance were ow-
ing to impotence, or want of means for the inflic-
tion of retributive justice, our admiration would
cease. But all the elements of nature are under
the immediate control of the Governor of the
universe; and, in a thousand modes Incompre-

hensible by us, He could make them the instru-
ments of his vengeance to chastise a guilty world.
" For in his hand is the soul of every living thing,
and the breath of all mankind." Let us con-
sider, for a little, some of those agents which lie
within the sphere of our knowledge in the sys-
tem of nature.

Of all the elements of nature, there is none
more delightful and beautiful in its efiects thau
light. "Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant
thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun." It
difl'uses a thousand shades of coloring over the
hills, the vales, the rivers, and the boundless deep,
and ope us to our view the glorious hosts of hea-
ven. Yet this delightful visitant, by a slight
modification, from tlie hand of Omnipotence, is
cai)able of being transformed into the most de-
structive element in nature. Light flies from the
sun at the rate of 200,000 miles in a second of
time; and it is owing to its particles being al-
most infinitely small, that we feel no inconveni-
ence from their rapid velocity. But, were the
Creator to condense several millions of these par-
ticles into one, or impel them with a still greater
velocity, the solid crust of our globe would be
perforated and shattered in every point by this ce-
lestial artillery, and its inhabitants would soon be
battered to atoms.

Again, the atmosphere which surrounds us, and
in wliich we live and breathe; which contains the
principles of life; whicli fans us with its gentle
gales, and wafts to our ears the harmonies of
music — is capable of being converted into an in*
strument of terror and destruction. It is com-
posed chiefly of two different ingredients; one of
these is the principle of flame, — and if tiie other
ingredient were extracted from the atmosphere,
and this principle left to exert its native energy
without control, instantly the forests would be in
a blaze; tlie hardest metals, and tlie most solid
rocks, would melt like wax; the waters of the
ocean would add fuel to the raging element; and,
in a few minutes, the whole expanse of our globe
would be enveloped in one devouring flame.

Again, the globe on which we reside is whirl-
ing round its axis every twenty-four hours, and
is carried round the sun with a still greater ve-
locity. Should that Almighty arm which first
impelled it in its career, cause these motions sud-
denly to cease, mountains would be tumbled into
the sea, forests torn up by their roots, cities over-
thrown and demolished, all nature would be
thrown into confusion, and terror and destruction
would overwhelm the inhabitants of the world. —
Not only the stopping of the earth's motions, but
even a new direction given to its axis of rotation,
would be productive of the most fatal effects.
The earth's axis at present is directed to certain
points of the heavens, from which it never devi-
ates, but in a very small degree; but, were the
hand of Omnipotence to bend it so as to make it
point in a different direction, the ocean would
abandon its present bed, and overflow the land;
and a second universal deluge would overwhelm
all the monuments of human grandeur and sweep
the earth's inhabitants into a watery grave.

Again, not only the elements which immecS-
ately surround us, but even celestial bodies which
are just now invisible to our sight, and remoTed
to the distance of a thousand millions of miles,
might be employed as ministers of vengeance —
There are at least a liundred comets connected
with the solar system, which are moving in all
directions, and crossing the orbits of the earth,
and the other planets. Were the orbit of one of
these bodies, in its approach to the sun, to be

24

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

bent in a direction to that of the earth, the most
alanniuij piiouomeua would be exhibited ia the
heavens. A ruddy .{jlobe, larj^er in appearance
than the moon, would iirst announce terror to the
inhabitants of the earth — every day this terrific
object would increase in size, until it appeared to
fill the celestial hemisphere with its tremendous
disc; — the light of the sun would bo eclipsed —
the stars would disappear — the ocean would be
thrown into violent agitation, and toss its billows
to the clouds — the earth would "reel to and fro,
like a drunkard" — and universal alarm and con-
fusion would seize upon all the tribes of the liv-
ing world. At length, this tremendous orb would
approach with accelerated velocity, and, striking
the earth with a crash, as if heaven and earth
had burst asunder, would shiver the globe info
fragments, and forever exterminate the race of
man.

It will at once be admitted, by every one who
acknowledges the incessant agency of a Supreme
Being in the movements of the universe, that any
one, or all of these elFects combined, are within
the compass of Omnipotence; and not only so,
but they might all be accomplished with terrific
energy in the course of a few moments. If puny
man, by his mechanical dexterity, can suddenly
stop a stupendous machine which he has put in
motion — if he can impel red-hot balls at the rate
of 500 miles an hour — if ho can extract the oxy-
gen from a small portion of the atmosphere, and
cause it to set on fire the hardest metallic sub-
stances— we cannot doubt for a moment, that,
with infinitely greater ease, the Almighty could
stop the earth in its career, separate the compo-
nent parts of the atmosphere, set on fire the
foundations of the mountains, or impel the blaz-
ing comet toward the earth, to crush it to atoms.
That God has been a constant spectator of the
wickedness of man for four thousand years; that
he has, during all that period, wielded in his hands
80 many terrific ministers of vengeance; and that
he has hitherto r'efrained from executing deserved
punishment on the workers of iniquity — is, there-
fore, a striking evidence that his mercy is infinite,
and that he is "long-sufFering and slow to anger,
not willing that any should perish, but that all
should come to repentance."

It would, however, be a most unwarrantable
conclusion, from this circumstance, to imagine
that God beholds with indifference the scenes of
iniquity that are hourly presented before him. —
In order to show that he is not an unconcerned
spectator of the ways of men, and that the in-
struments of punishment are always in his hand,
he sometimes " cometh out of his place, to punish
the inhabitants of the earth for their iniquity,"
and displays the holiness of his nature, by " ter-
rible things in righteousness." In such visita-
tions, " his way is in the whirlwind and the
storm; clouds and darkness are round about him;
a fire goeth before liira, and burnetii up his ene-
mies round about; the stormy winds are his mes-
sengers, and flames of fire his ministers; the
clouds pour out their waters; the sky sends forth
a sound; the voice of his thunder is in the hea-
vens; his lightnings enlighten the world; iJie
earth quakes and the people tremble." The hur-
ricane, which tears up whole forests by the roots,
and tosses them about as stubble, which levels
the loftiest spires with the ground, and dashes the
stateliest ships against each other, until thev are
broken' into shivers, and plunged into the deep;
the lightnings, which fill the atmosphere with
their blaze, which shatter the strongest buildings,
aud strike whole herds of cattle into a lifeless

grouj); the pcstilmce, "which walketh in dark
ness," and cuts off thousands of its victims in ^
day; the volcano, belching forth rivers of fire,
causing surroun ling cities to tremble, and send-
ing forth its bellowings over a circuit of a thou*
sand miles; these, and many other agents which
arc in operation in the system of nature, are ex-
perimental proofs of the dreadful energy of those
ministers of destruction, which are constantly
under the superintendence of the Almiglily, and
of his occasionally using them for the purpose of
chastising the nations for their iniquities.

In particular, the earthquake is one of the most
terrible and destructive instruments of vengeance.
In the year 1755, the shock of an earthquake was
felt at Lisbon, which leveled to the ground more
than half of that populous city, and buried fifty
thousand of its inhabitants in the ruins. The
shock extended its influence over an extent of
four millions of square miles; and therefore, it is
easy to conceive, that, had a little greater impulse
been given to the physical agents which produced
this terrible effect, the solid globe on which we
stand might have been convulsed to its center, and
all its inhabitants crushed to death, amidst the uni-
versal ruin.

We have also an experimental proof, that there
are physical principles in the constitution of our
globe, sufficient to give it a shock throughout
every part of its solid mass, and that such a shock,
at one period, it actually received. When the
wickedness of man became great upon the earth,
" when every imagination of the thoughts of hia
heart was only evil continually," the fountains
of the great deep were broken up, the cataracts
of heaven were opened, and the whole solid crust
of our globe received such a shock as rent the
mountains asunder, and hurled them into the
plains; the effects of which are still visible, in
every Alpine district, and in the subterraneous
caverns of the earth. Of all the millions of the
race of Adam that then existed, only eight indi-
viduals, after having been tossed for seven months
on the tremendous billows of a boundless ocean,
surA'ived, to tell to their posterity the tidings of
this univ^ersal wreck. The dreadful scenes of hor-
ror and consternation wliich must have been pre-
sented at this awful crisis; the stupendous forces
which must have been in operation in the atmo-
sphere above, and in flie foundations of the earth
beneath, and the tremendous clash of elemental
war which must have ensued, throughout every
region of earth, air, and sea, — it is beyond the
power of the human imagination to depict, in all
their terrific grandeur. But we have every reason
to conclude, that the bottom of the ocean was
lifted up to the level of the loftiest mountains,
that disruptions of the mountains and of the densest
rocks ensued, that dreadful explosions resounded
throughout the whole expanse of nature, and that
the mighty waters hurled their billows with resist-
less fury in every direction, rolling immense rocks
and forests from one continent to another, and
whirling the wrecks of different regions to the
opposite extremities of the globe.

Were it at any time the intention of the Al-
mighty to inflict deserved punishment on a par-
ticular district, or class of men, without deranging
the whole structure of our globe, we have also an
experimental proof how easily this could be ef-
fected, even without infringing the established
laws of nature. He has only to condense the
powerful energies of the electrical fluid in a large
cloud, and to dispatch it on the wings of the wind,
to discharge its thunderbolts on any particular
city, or mountain, or plain, — and the work of de-

r

JUSTICE OF GOD.

25

fitructioii is instantly accomplished. A striking
instance ot" this kind happened, in the year 1772,
in the inland of Java, in the East Indies. On the
11th of August, at tlio dead hour of night, a
bright cloud was observed covering a mountain
in tho district of CJierihon, and at the same mo-
ment several reports were heard, like those of a
cannon. The people who dwelt on the upper
parts of the ^lountain not being able to fly with
BufHcients\tiftness, a great part of the cloud, about
nine miles in circumference, detached itself under
them, and was seen at a distance, rising and full-
ing like the waves of the sea, and emitting globes
of fire so luminous, that the night became as clear
as day. The effects of this dreadful explosion
were astonishing. Everything was destroyed for
twenty miles around. Tlie houses were demolish-
ed; the plantations were buried in the earth; vast
numbers of goats, sheep, and horses, and 1500 head
of cattle were destroj'cd; and above two thousand
human beings were in a moment plunged into the
gulf of eternity.* *' With God is terrible majesty.
Who can stand before his indignation? who can
abide in the fierceness of his anger? The moun-
tiiins quake before him; the hills melt, and the
earth is burned at his presence." — " Let all the
earth fear the Lord; let all the inliabitants of the
world stand iu awe of him."

Thus it appears, that God is not an unconcerned
spectator of the ways of men — that he has every
moment at his command tlie most destructive ele-
ments of nature — and that we have abundant
proofs that these destructive elements have been
occasionally used, for inflicting condign punish-
ment on the workers of iniquity. Notwithstand-
ing these resources of vengeance, we find, by ex-
perience, that his mercy is exercised, from year to
year, and from century to century, toward a
world, the majority of whose inhabitants are daily
trampling under foot his sacred institutions, and
his holy laws. The instances which occur, of the
dcT'-astations of the hurricane, the thumper, the
volcano, the earthquake, and the pestilence, are
comparatively few, and seem intended chiefly to
arouse the attention of thoughtless and ungrateful
man; to prevent him from running to the extreme
of wickedness ; and to convince him tlTat the
Most High " ruleth in the kingdoms of men,"
and that "verily there is a God who judgeth in
tlie earth." Hence we may perceive the striking
emphasis of the language of the inspired writers:

• In this, and the other illustrations of tliis subject stated
above, I consider the Divine Being as the grand agent in di-
recting the operations of the elements, but without infring-
ing those general laws which are found to operate with un-
deviating constancy in the system of the universe. To ex-
plore the manner in which these general laws are directed
to produce certain specific effects, in reference to particular
regions and tribes of mankind, must obviously be beyond
the limits of our ficulties; unless we could enter into all the
desigQs of the Eternal Mind, when he gave birth to the uni-
verse, and arranged its elementary parts ; and unless we
could take a comprehensive view of the remotest tendencies
of the elements of nature, and the times and circumstances
in which they shall produce a specific and extraordinary ef-
fect. All these tendencies and circumstances were before
the mind of the Eternal Jehovah, when he established the
p.an of his moral government ; and, therefore, whatever
events may occur in the physical system, must be consider-
ed as the accomplishment of his moral purposes, in reference
to the moral agents he has created. It would be presnmp-
tnons in so limited a being as man, to determine, in every
ease, what is the precise moral reason of the extraordinary
destructive effects of physical agents. We can only say, in
general, that they are connected with the sin and depravity
of man. But, at that solemn day, when the reasons of the
divine dispensations shall be laid open, it will perhaps be
fonnd, that such uncommon and alarming effects were the

fiunishment of aggr.avaled transgressions, the peculiar raa-
ignity and tendency of which were removed, in a great
measure, beyond the sphere of general observation.

"The Lord is shw to anger,''^ and yet "yreaf in
power."

This display of the exercise of perfect self-com-
mand in the Divine mind, is, therefore, calculated,
as well as his wisJom and goodness, to inspire ua
with emotions of reverence, admiration, and love.
"The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to
anger, and plenteous in mercy. As the heaven is
high above the earth,, so great is his mercy toward
tliem that fear him. Bless the Lord, 0 my soul,
and forget not all his benefits." >

SECTION VI.

Of the rectitude of the divIx\e character.

Another perfection in the character of God,
which is calculated to inspire confidence and af-
fection, is his Justice, or, the Rectitude of his na-
ture.

The rectitude of the Divine Being, in its moat
extensive sense, consists in doing that which, in
all cases, is right, upon the whole; or, in other
words, that which will have the greatest tendency
to promote the order and happiness of his univer-
sal empire. It includes under it, the idea of dig-
tributive justice, which consists in rewarding the
good, and punishing the bad, according to equita-
ble laws, calculated to produce harmony and hap-
piness throughout the whole intelligent system.
This perfection of the Deity may be considered as
a branch of his general benevolence, which ap-
pears to be the source of all his moral attributes,
and the spring of all his actions. The display of
his natural and moral jierfections, and the general
happiness of the intelligences which exist through-
out his immense and eternal empire, appear to be
the great objects in view, in his moral govern-
ment of the universe: and, in order to secure these
objects, it is requisite that justice be impartially
administered, according to the eternal rules of rec-
titude, and that " every one be rewarded accord-
ing to his works."

That this attribute is possessed by the Divine
Being, in the highest degree, appears from the
following considerations. He exists, and has al-
ways existed, completely independent of all his
creatures; he is in the actual possession of bound-
less felicity, which no other being can interrupt;
and is consequently liable to no evil, nor diminu-
tion of enjoyment. He is omnipotent, and there-
fore can accomplish whatever he pleases, and caa
effectually prevent whatever might detract from
his happiness, or disturb the order of his govern-
ment. He has, therefore, nothing to fear from
any other being, and can desire nothing from his
creatures to increase his felicity. Consequently,
no possible motive or temptation can exist, to induce
him to inflict an act of injustice on any of the in-
tellectual beings he has formed. Injustice, among
men, proceeds either from want of intelligence
to discriminate between what is right and wrong;
from want of power to bring their purposes into
effect; from the fear of some evil or disadvantage
which may arise from the injpartial distribution
of justice; from the idea of some imaginary good
of which they might be deprived ; from some
mental defect incident to the present state of hu-
manity; from some prejudice against the individu-
als toward whom justice ought to be administered;
or from the indulgence of some cruel and deprav-
ed dispositions. But none of these causes or mo-
tives can exist in the mind of the All-perfect and
infinite Creator. His comprehensive eye taketi

2«

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

in, at one glance, all the circumstances, even the
most minute, on which a righteous decision de-
pends; he is no "respecter of persons;" he can
indulge no malevolent dispositions; he can ex-
pect no accession of enjoyiiieut from an act of
injustice; ho has notliiiig to {i^av from the execu-
tion of his decisions; his power is all-sufficient to
bring them into full effect, at the time, and in the
manner, which is most conducive to tlie hai>piness
of the universe; and his benevolence, which is dis-
played throughout all his works, effectually pre-
vents him fi^om withholiiiiig good, or inllieling
evil, beyond the desert of tlie subjects of his go-
vernment.

This character of the Deity is amply exhibited
and conlirmed in the declarations of Sacred
Scripture, where it is asserted, tliat " He is a God
of truth, and without iniquity; just and right is
he." "Thou art just." says Nehemiah, "in all
that is brought upon us; for thou hast done right,
but we have done wickedly." "Shall mortal
man be more just than God? Surely God will
not do wickedly, neitb.er will the Almiglity per-
vert judgment. Wilt thou condemn Him that is
most just? Is it fit to say to a king, Thou art
wicked; or to princes, Ye are ungodly? How
much less to him who accepteth not the persons
of princes, nor regardeth the rich more than the
poor?" — " The righteous Lord loveth righteous-
ness; he shall judge the world in righteousness;
he shall minister judgment to the people in up-
rightness. Justice and judgment are the founda-
tion of his throne. The Lord our God is right-
eous in all his works v/hich he doth." "I am
the Lord who exercise judgment and righteous-
ness in the earth." "God is net unrighteous to
forget your work and labor of love whicli ye
have showed toward his name. — Great and mar-
velous are thy works. Lord God Almighty; just
and true are thy ways, thou King of saints." The
equitable laws which he has promulgated to his
creatures; the justice lie requires to be exercised
by one man to another; liis promises of reward,
and his threatenings of punishment; and the im-
pressive judgments which he has executed on in-
dividuals, on nations, and on the world at large,
all bear testimony to the existence of perfect rec-
titude in the divine character.
• But, although Scripture and Reason combine
in attesting the immutable justice of God, we are
unable, in many instances, to tiace the display of
this perfection in his dispensations toward the
inhabitants of our world. This is owing, in part,
to the false maxims by which we form a judgment
of his procedure; to the limited views we are
obliged to take of the objects of his government;
to the want of a comprehensive knowledge of the
whole plan of his dispensations, and tin ends to
be effected by them; to the limited views we have
acquired of the whole range of his universal do-
minions; and to our ignorance of the relations
which may subsist between our world and the in-
habitants of other provinces of the divine Em-
pire. We behold many of " the excellent of the
earth," pining in the abodes of poverty, and al-
most unnoticed by their fellow-men; while we
behold the wicked elevated to stations of power,
and encircled with riches and splendor. From a
false estimate of true enjoyment, we are apt to
imagine, that misery surrounds the one, and that
happiness encircles the other; and that there is
an apparent act of injustice in these different al-
lotments; whereas, God may have placed the one
in the midst of worldly prosperity as a punish-
ment for his sins, and the other in obscurity, as a
stimulus to the exercise of virtue. We behold a

man of piety and benevolence falling before tm
dagger of an assassin, who escapes with impunity:
we are startled at the dispensation, and confound-
ed at the mystery of providence, and are apt to
exclaim, " Is there not a God that judgcth in the
earth?" But, we are ignorant of tlie relation
which such an event bears to the geneial plan of
the divine government — of the links in the chain
of events which preceded it, and %i tliose which
shall follow in its train. We are ignorant of the
relation it bears to particular families and socie-
ties, or to the nation at large in which it happen-
ed, and even to all the nations of the earth. An
event apparently trivial,' or mysterious, or, ac-
cording to our views, unjust, may, foi aught we
know, form an essential link in that chain of
events which extends from the commencement of
time to its consummation, which runs through a
thousand workls,>and stretches into the depths of
eternity. We all know, that some of the most
appalling scenes of terror and destruction have
often proceeded from an apparently trivial acci-
dent, and that events of the greatest importance
have originated from causes so inconsiderable as
to be almost overlooked. The British and For-
eign Bible Society, vi'hich novi'' engages the atten-
tion of the whole mass of the Christian world,
and whose beneficent effects will soon extend to
the remotest corners of the world, derived its ori-
gin from a casual conversation between a few ob-
scure individuals, on the subject of distributing
the Scriptures. And the apparently trivial cir-
cumstance, of observing that a certain mineral sub-
stance, when left free to move itself, uniformly
points toward the north, has been the means, not
only of the knowledge we have acquired of the
different regions of our globe, but of imparting
to millions of mankind incalculable blessings,
which will descend to their posterity to the latest
generations.

Hence it apears, that, in our present circum*
stances, we are altogether incompetent to fonn a
correct judgment of what is just or unjust in the
present dispensations of the Almighty, unless we
could survey, with the eye of a seraph, the ample
plan of the divine government, — the whole chain
of God's dispensations toward our race, — the nu-
merous worlds and beings over which his moral
government extends, — the relation which the
events now passing among us bear to other moral
intelligences, either as subjects of contemplation,
as warnings of the danger of apostasy from Go^,
or as motives to universal subjection and obedi-
ence,— and the connections, bearings, and depen-
dencies of the whole of that moral system which
embraces unnumbered worlds, and constitutes
one grand and boundless empire, under the go-
vernment of the Creator. Even then, with the
ej-e and the mind of a finite intelligence, we
should occasionally meet with events which would
surpass our comprehension, and be altogether in-
explicable, on the grounds of the knowledge w<
had previously acquired, and should still be con-
strained to exclaim, " 0 the depth of the richef- ,
both of the wisdom and the knowledge of God'
How unsearchable are his judgments, and his
ways past finding out!"

But although "clouds and darkness" at pro-
sent hang over the ways of the Almighty, so tiial
we cannot, in every instance, perceive the recti-
tude of his procedure, yve may rest satisfied that i
"justice and judgment are forever the foundation
of his throne;" and we are assured, by the Sacred
Oracles, that a period is approaching, when the
mystery^ of Providence will be unfolded, and
when all its dark and perplexing events, in refer-

DUTY OF LOVE TO- GOD.

27

en.'» to this world, will be explained to tlie full
conviction of all its assembled inhabitants. For
" God hath appointed a day in which he will
judge the world in righteousness by that man
whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given
assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised
him from the dead." Then " the secrets of all
hearts" shall be disclosed, and every man re-
warded "according to his works;" for, "God
shall bring every work into judgment, with every
Bccret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be
evil." Then it will be clearly perceived, that
•'verily tiiere is a reward for the righteous, and
that there is a God that jiidgcth in the earth." —
Then the rectitude of Jehovah, in every part of
his moral administration, will shine forth in all
its luster; a visible and everlasting distinction
will be made between the righteous and the wick-
ed, and the whole intelligent creation will plainly
discern between " him that served God, and him
that served him not."

In the meantime, God has not left himself
without a witness to the impartiality of his jus-
tice in his allotments toward men, in that he has
invariably connected misery with the violation of
his laws, and happiness with the observance of
tliein. However diiferent the allotments of man-
kind may be, in regard to wealth, honor, or sta-
tion, it holds invariably true, that " there is no
peace," or substantial happiness, " to the wick-
ed;" and that "the man is blessed who fears the
Lord, and delights in his commandments."* —
Place a man on the highest pinnacle of earthly
grandeur, and let him indulge in schemes of am-
bition, avarice, pride, revenge, cruelty, and otlier
violations of the divine law, and he may as soon
attempt to stop the sun in his course, as to expect
substantial enjoyment while he continues in the
indulgence of such malevolent passions. Place
another in the most obscure abode of human life,
and let him exercise piety, benevolence, humility,
and every other Christian temper; and he will en-
joy a peace, an equanimity, and a portion of hap-
piness, which the wicked can never possess, and
which the wealth of the world can neither give
nor take away. Hence it is, that we behold so
many instances of disgust at life, and of self-
destruction, among those who are elevated to sta-
tions of power, and surrounded with every kind
of sensitive enjoyment. — This consideration, of
itself, should silence every murmur that is apt to
arise at the dispensations of God's providence,
and convince us that "he is righteous in all his
ways, and holy in all his works."

On the whole, then, it appears, that the justice
of God has a tendency to inspire us with confi-
dence, and love, and joy, no less than his mercy
and benevolence. Were it not for this perfection
of the divine character, omnipotence might bo-
come a most terrific and tremendous attribute of
the Deity. We should have no motive but that
oi fear to stimulate us to obedience; we should
feel no security against danger, and distress, and
the perpetual recurrence of spectacles of ven-
geance, and, in the course of ages, the spacious
universe might be transformed into an immense
region of " lamentation, and mourning, and woe."
Were it not for this perfection, the benevolence
ol" tlie Deity would degenerate into weakness and
Imbecility. Wicked men, and other depraved in-
telligences, presuming on freedom from impunity,
and their diabolical passions acquiring strength
and vigor, by long exercise, would carry misery
and destruction in their train, wherever they e.\-

* Fsal. cxii. 1

erted their energies; and would interrupt and ul-
timately destroy the harmony and felicity of the
intelligent universe. But, while we recognize
the rectitude of the divine character as an inmiu-
table attribute of Deity, wc can look forward with
confidence through all the revolutions of time,
and to all those eternal scenes which shall suc-
ceed the demolition of the present system of
things, fully assured, that God is the universal
Protector of his unnumbered offspring — that his
power will never be interposed to inflict an act
of injustice — that no intelligent being will ever
suffer a punishment beyond his desert — and that
no happiness which his benevolence has devised,
and his word has promised, will ever be withheld
from those " who put their trust in his name, and
hearken to the voice of his commandments."

Thus I have endeavored to show, that love to
CrOfZ, which is the first principle of the moral law,
is founded upon the natural and moral perfections
of the Deity — that the attributes of omnipotence,
wisdom, goodness, mercy, forbearance, and justice,
are calculated to excite this noble affection to the
highest degree in the minds of all holy intelli-
gences. I might also have illustrated this sub-
ject from considerations drawn from the infinity,
the eternity, the immutability, the holiness, and
veracity of God. But the illustrations already
stated, will, I presume, be sufficient to demon-
strate, that this affection, in conjunction with all
its kindred emotions, ought to occupy the highest
place in the human heart, and in the minds of all
created intelligences.

It may, perhaps, be insinuated by some, that
the preceding illustrations have been carried to
a greater length than the nature of the subject
required — and it is readily admitted, that the mere
logical argument did not require so extended illus-
trations. Every person who knows the meaning
of the terms made use of, will at once admit, that,
since God is a Being possessed of almighty power,
infinite wisdom, boundless benevolence, mercy,
forbearance, and perfect rectitude — he ought to be
loved affectionately and supremely. But such
general and metaphysical reasoning, though per-
fectly conclusive and incontrovertible, possesses
but a slender influence over the mind, in exciting
it to the cultivation of holy affections. For the
sake of impression, it is essentially requisite, that
the various manifestations of divine perfection
should be presented to the view, in order that tha
mind may have a tangible train of thought be-
fore it, to stimulate its activities, and its religious
emotions. General views and reasonings on any
subject, and especially on the subject of religion,
produce a very slight impression on the majority
of mankind. It is not owing so much to the
want of conviction of the truth of certain impor-
tant propositions in religion, that divine truths
take so slender a hold of the mind, as to the want
of those deftniie and impressive conceptions which
can be acquired only by a minute and attentive
surv-ey of the works and the dispensation* of
God. And, in this point of view, the preceding
illustrations, had the limited nature of the present
work permitted, might have been prosecuted to a
much greater extent.

I might also have illustrated this subject from a
consideration of the relations in which God stands
to us, and to all his creatures. He is our Creator,
and we are the workmanship of his hands. He
formed our bodies, and he sustains our spirits. —
His physical energ^^ is felt by us everj' moment,
in making our hearts to beat, and our lungs to
play, and in impelling the crimson fluid which
circulates iu our bodies, tlirough a thousand dif-

28

PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

ferent tubes. To him we are indebted for life,
and all its comforts; and for all the powers, capa-
cities, and privileges, which dignify our nature,
and exalt us above the lower ranks of existence.
He is our Preserver and bountiful Benefactor, who
"sustains our souls in life," who supports the
course of nature, in its diversified movements,
and "daily loads with his benefits." To his su-
perintending providence we are indebted for the
food we cat, tlie water we drink, the clothes we
wear, the air wo breathe, the light which cheers
us, the splendors of the sun, the niilder radiance
of the moon, the magnificence of the starry sky,
the rains and dews which fertilize the soil; the
earth, with its riches and abundance; the trees,
slants, and waving grain, which enrich our fields;
tlie flowers which deck the meadows, the beauti-
ful and magnificent coloring which is spread over
the terrestrial landscape, the succession of day
and night, and the vicissitude of the seasons. In
short, to him we are indebted for all the objects
and movements around us, which render our
abode on earth convenient, desirable, and produc-
tive of enjoyment.

Ho is our Father, and we are his children. He
watches over us with a tender care; and, " as a
father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth
them that fear him." This tender and indissolu-
ble relation binds us to him by the strongest ties,
and is calculated to excite the most ardent filial
affection and gratitude. He is our Sovereign and
Lawgiver, and we are his subjects; and all his
laws are framed on the principles of eternal and
immutable rectitude, and are calculated to pro-
mote the harmony and happiness of th'e whole
intelligent creation. He is our Master, and we
are his servants, and " his commandments are not

frievous." He is our Friend in adversilj', our
'rotector in danger and in distress; our Instructor,
who has imparted to us knowledge and under-
standing; and our Redeemer, who "spared not his
own Son, but delivered him up for us all," that
we might be rescued from the gulf of depravity
and ruin, and exalted to a state of consummate
felicity. In fine, he is that being who is the in-
exhaustible fountain of light, of life, and of joy
to all beings — on whom depend all our future
prospects in this world, and all the transporting
scenes to which we look forward in an intermin-
able state of existence. — All these, and many other
relations, in which we stand to the God of hea-
ven, demonstrate, that supreme love to this be-
neficent Being, is the first and highest duty of
every rational creature; and they present the
most powerful motives to stimulate us to its ex-
ercise. But, to illustrate these topics, in minute
detail, would be inconsistent with the limited plan
of the present work; and it is the less necessary,
as several of them have already been brought
into view, in the course of the preceding illustra-
tions.

SECTION VII.

Modes in which love to God is displayed.

I SHALL now offer a remark or two on the nature
of this sublime affection, and the manner in which
it ought to be manifested. Love to God is not a
single and solitarj' affection in the human breast,
which evaporates in a few transient and undefined
emotions; but is the spring of every holy activi-
ty, and is intimately connected with every virtu-
ous emotion, with every piouj sentiment, with

every religious requirement, with efery sensitive
enjoyment, with our present comforts, and out
future and eternal prospects.

It includes in it, complacency, or deligltt in tfie
character and administration of God. Viewing
him as a self-existent and eternal Being, — filling
immensity with his presence, launching innume-
rable worlds into existence, upholding them ail
by the "word of his power," and superintending
the minutest concerns of all his offspring, from
the loftiest seraph, through all the inferior grada*
tions of existence, to the smallest animalcula, —
the mind feels the most delightful emotions, in
regarding the happiness of the universe as per-
fectly secure under his physical and moral admin-
istration. Contemplating his bounty to angels
and to men, to the birds of the air, the fishes of
the sea, and the numerous tribes wiiich traverse
the surface of the land, — his mercy toward our
fallen race, — his long-suffering and forbearance
toward wicked nations and individuals, — his faith-
fulness in the accomplishment of his promises
and threatenings, — and the unerring rectitude of
his dispensations toward all his creatures, — the
mind feels supreme approbation and complacency
in his attributes, purposes, and administrations;
beholding in his character an excellence and ami-
ableness, a moral dignity and grandeur which is
not to be found in any created intelligence. Even
in reference to those acts of his government
which appear dreadful and appalling — in the vol-
cano, the earthquake, the thunders, the hurricanoj
the tempest, and the doom of the impenitent, its
approbation and complacency are not withheld,
convinced that perfect rectitude is the rule of
his procedure, and that his righteousness will one
day be brought to light before an assembled world.

Love to God includes admiration of his wonder*
ful iDorks. The man whose affections are direct-
ed to the Supreme Intelligence is not an indiffer-
ent spectator of the manifestations of Deity. He
beholds the magnificent canopy of heaven daily
moving around him in silent grandeur; his eye
penetrates beyond the apparent aspects of the
twinkling luminaries which adorn it, and surveys
the hand of the Almighty wheeling stupendous
globes through the immeasurable regions of space,
and extending his operations throughout unnum-
bered systems, dispersed over the boundless ex-
panse of the universe. He beholds the great
globe on which he is placed, impelled by the same
omnipotent arm, prosecuting its course through
the depths of space, and circling around the sun,
to bring about the revolutions of the seasons. He
contemplates the vast ranges of mountains that
stretch around it — the mass of waters in the
mighty ocean, and its numerous tribes of ani-
mated beings — the " dry land," with all its furni-
ture and inhabitants — the vast caverns, chasms,
and shattered strata which appear in its interior
recesses — and the atmosphere with which it is
surrounded, with the clouds, the lightnings, and
the tempests which diversify its aspect. He traces
tlie footsteps of the Almighty in his moral ad-
ministration— in the deluge which swept away
the inhabitants of the antediluvian world — in the
burning of Sodom, Ihe dividing of the Red sea,
the thunders and lightnings of Sinai' — the mani-
festation of the Son of God in human flesh; hia
sufferings, death, resurrection, and triumphant .
ascension — in the propagation of the gospel in
the face of every opposition, in the rise and fall
of empires, the dethronement of kings, the bat-
tles of warriors, and the convulsions of nations.
And, while he contemplates such objects and
operations, his admiration is excited by the incom-

HUMILITY AND RESIGNATION.

29

prehensible knowledge displayed in the contri-
vance of the universe, the boundless benevolence
whicli extends over all these works, and the om-
nipotent power by which all the mighty move-
ments of Creation and Providence are effected. —
And, while he admires, he is filled with strong
emotions of reverence of the glorious perfections
of tluit Being, whose mighty hand conducts those
stupendous movements, and he feels the full force
of the impressive exhortation of the psalmist,
."Let all the earth fear the Lord; let all the in-
habitants of the world stand in awe of him: for
he spake, and it was done; he commanded, and it
stood fast." Even the abstract conccjitions we
have of the immensity of the Divine Being, by
which he is present in every part of infinite space
— the eternity of his duration, and the range of
his omniscience which embraces an intimate know-
ledge of the thoughts, the purposes, and the ac-
tions of all creatures; are calculated to overpower
the mind with emotions of veneration and awe,
blended with feelings of affection and delight at
the recollection of the relation in which we stand
to this glorious Intelligence.

Again, Love to God includes Humility and self-
abasement in the divine presence. There is no
disposition which appears more incompatible with
supremo affection for the Creator than pride,
haughtiness, and arrogance. " God resisteth the
proud." Even "a proud look" is declared to be
an "abomination" in his sight. And, if the in-
dulgence of pride be inconsistent with the love
of God, humility must be regarded as one of its
essential and distinguishing accompaniments.
When a man who loves God reflects on his condi-
tion and character — that he is a creature who
derived his existence from a superior Being, to
whom he is indebted for all his powers and facul-
ties, and by whose power and mercy he is every
moment preserved in existence; when he consi-
ders his station in the universe — that he is only
like an atom in the immensity of creation, when
compared with the innumerable beingswhich peo-
ple its wide domains — that he stands near the
lowest part of the scale of intelligent existence,
and that " all the inhabitants of the earth are as
grasshoppers" before Him who sits on the throne
of the heavens; when he recollects that he has
apostatized from the God who made him, that he
is guilty of innumerable violations of his righte-
ous laws, and stands condemned at the bar of
Him " who is of purer eyes than to behold ini-
quity;" when he contemplates the circumstances
in which he is now placed in consequence of hi.s
transgressions — the pains, diseases, poverty, be-
reavements, and reproaches, to which he is sub-
jected; the storms, and tempests, and elemental
war to which he is exposed; the degradation which
awaits his body at the hour of dissolution and in
the mansions of the tomb; and the ignorance, the
errors, and follies into which he has fallen; — when
he considers that "lowliness of mind" is a cha-
racteristic of the most exalted of created intelli-
gences, who "vail their faces" in the divine pre-
Bence, and cheerfully extend their benevolent
regards to the meanest human being who is an
"heir of salvation;" and, above all, when he re-
flects on the in.'ffable grandeur of that Being be-
fore whom "all nations are as the drop of a buckel,"
he is convinced that pride is the most unreasona-
ble principle that can exist in the human breast,
and that the most profound humiliiy ought forever
to characterize his thoughts and actions, both in
the jirL-sence of God, ami before the eyes of men.
On such a character only will "the High and
Lofty One who inhabits eternity," look v/ith com-

placency, and in such a heart alone can the love
of God be expected to reside in all its generous
and noble exercises. Such a disposition, mingling
with all the other benevolent affections, will ren-
der them sweet and delightful: it will render us
amiable in the eyes of our fellow-men; it will
secure us against all the wretched effects and bois-
terous passions which flow from haughtiness and
pride; it will mitigate the sorrows, the perplexi-
ties, and anxieties to which wo are subjected in
our earthly pilgrimage; it will enable us to pre-
serve our minds tranquil and serene amidst the
provocations, the affronts, and the contentions to
which we are exposed in our intercourses with
general soeiety, and will prepare us for associating
with the inhabitants of that happier world, where
seraphic love, profound reverence of the Divine
Majesty, and profound humility, mingle with all
their intercourses and employments.

Resignation to the providential dispensations of
the Almighty is another manifestation and accom-
paniment of love to God. To be habitually dis-
contented, and to murmur and repine under the
allotments of his providence, must obviously ap-
pear to be inconsistent with sincere and ardent
affection for the Supreme Disposer of events.
Resignation to the will of God is the duty of every
intelligent creature toward the Creator; and in
proportion to the degree in which this principle
exists, will be the happiness of the intellectual
being that exercises it. Angels are perfectly
happy, because they are perfectly submissive to
the will of their Creator — being fully contented
with the station allotted them in the universe, and
completely resigned to all the future services and
allotments which Infinite Wisdom has ordained.
Wherever pure affection toward God actuates the
mind among the inhabitants of our world, it pro-
duces a disposition similar in kind, though infe-
rior in degree, to that which animates the breasts
of the cherubim and the seraphim in the regions
of bliss.

He, who is actuated by this noble principle, re-
gards every providential event as the appointment
of his Father in heaven. The devouring flames
may consume his habitation to ashes, and scatter
his treasures to "the four winds of heaven;" the
ship in which his wealth is embarked may be
dashed against the rocks, and sink " as lead in the
mighty waters;" his friends may forsake him in
the season of his deepest anxiety and distress; the
wife of his bosom, whom he tenderly loved, may
be snatched from his embrace by the cold hand of
death; his children, dearer to him than his own
soul, may fall victims, one after another, to some
pestilential disease, and be forever removed from
his sight to the "land of deep forgetfulness;" his
familiar friend in whom he trusted may " lift up
his heel against him," and load him with un-
merited reproaches; his own body may be chas-
tened with sore pain and loathsome disease; a fall
from a horse may break the bones of his leg, and
render him lame for life; a random blow may
bruise his eye-balls, and deprive him of all the
entertainments of vision; he may be stretched for
many long j'ears on the bed of languishing; his
country may either be ravaged and laid waste by
destroying armies, or rains and inundations may
sweep away the produce of his fields. But under
all such calamities, he bows with submission to
the will of Him " who rules in the whirlwind and
directs the storm;" not because he has fortified
his mind with a stoical apathy and indifference
toward the evils of life; not because he is inca-
pable of feeling the evils he is doomed to suffer;
! for he may feel them in the acutest degree, even

JO

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

while he exercises full resignation; but he is re-
signed, because ho feels assured tliat they arc the
appointment of his Alniiglity Friend — that they
are parts of the plan of unerring wisdom — that
they are intimately connected with the whole
chain of providence that runs through his present
existence — that they are intended, in the scheme
of infinite benevolence, to promote his happiness
in a way which his limited faculties are unable at
present to comprehend — and that they have a
bearing on the scenes and enjoyments of the eter-
nal world. And therefore, under the pressure of
his most painfiil feelings, he is enabled to adopt
the triumphant language of the prophet, "Al-
though the fig-tree shrill not blossom, neither fruit
be in the vine; the labor of the olive fail, and the
iBelds yield no meat; the flock be cut off from the
fold, and there be no herd in the stall; yet will I
rejoice in the Lord, I will be glad in the God of
my salvation." While others murmur and rage,
and toss themselves like a wild bull in a net, and
curse the supposed authors of their calamities, he
is enabled to "possess his soul in patience," con-
vinced of the rectitude of the divine dispensations;
and thus displays a nobleness of mind, and a he-
roism which is " above all Greek, above all Roman
fame."

Again, Love to God comprehends Gratitude for
the benefits he bestows. Gratitude is that par-
ticular modification of love which flows out to-
ward God, considered as the Author and Bestower
of all felicity: it is love excited by kindness com-
municated from benevolent motives. It is one
of the most natural and obvious manifestations of
that general principle which I have been hitherto
illustrating; for ingratitude is altogether incon-
sistent with love to a benefactor. In order to
kindle this amiable affection into a lively flame,
the person in whose bosom it glows endeavors to
take a minute and expansive survey of the "lov-
ingrkindness of God," and of the countless va-
riety of benefits he is continually receiving. He
feels grateful to God for his existence, for the
powers and capacities with which he is endowed,
for the rank which ho holds in the scale of ter-
restrial existence; in being raised above the clods
of the valley, and furnished with faculties supe-
rior to the beasts of the forest and the fowls of
heaven. He feels grateful that he was brought
into existence in a Christian land, and in civilized
society; that the " glad tidings of salvation" have
reached his ears; that " God so loved the world,
that He gave his only begotten Son, that whoso-
ever believeth on him might not perish, but have
everlasting life," and that every enjoyment requi-
site for his present and future happiness is secured
through this plan of divine benevolence. Bat he
does not rest satisfied with vague and general
views of these important benefits; he contem-
plates the degradation into which sin had plunged
him, the greatness of the misery from which the
love of God has delivered him, the moral perfec-
tion of his nature to which he is now training,
the serenity of mind he experiences in the prac-
tice of the divine precepts, the security he feels
for his present and future safety under the pro-
tection of Omnipotence, the " strong consolation"
nnder the evils of life which the promises of God
lead him to expect, the victory over deatn of which
he s secured " through Christ Jesus his Lord,"
the resurrection of his body at the close of time,
the "new heavens and the new earth" to wiiich
he is destined at the dissolution of this sublunary
system, the alliance- into which he is brought to
the angelic tribes and other pure intelligences, his
moral capacity for associating with every holy

being in the universe, and the endless succession
of transj)orting scenes which will burst upon his
view through the ages of eternity. While con-
templating these high privileges, in all their bear-
ings and varied ramifications, emotions of affec-
tion and gratitude arise in his breast which can
only be expressed in the language of elevated
devotion.

" O how shall words with equal warmth
The gratituJe declare
That glows within my ravish'd heart!
But Thou canst read it there."

"Bless the Lord, 0 my soul! and all that is
within me bless his holy name. Give thanks to
the Lord, and forgot not all his benefits; who for-
giveth all thine iniquities, who healcth all thy dis-
eases; who redeemeth thy life from destruction,
and crowneth thee with loving-kindness and ten-
der mercies."

Nor does he feel less grateful to God for his
kindness as displayed in the material world, and
in the ordinary course of his providence. He
feels grateful for these scenes of sublimity and
beauty with which the visible universe is adorn-
ed— for the sun when he ascends the vault of hea-
ven, and diffuses his radiance over the mountains
and the vales — for the moon, when she " walks in
brightness" through the heavens, and cheers the
shades of night — for the planets, while they run
their ample rounds, and evince, by their magni-
tude and motions, the eternal omnipotence of their
Maker — for the inimmerable host of stars, which
unite their splendors to adorn the canopy of the
sky, and display the riches, and grandeur, and
boundless extent of God's universal kingdom — ■
for the light, which darts with inconceivable ra-
pidity from the celestial luminaries, and diffuses
a thousand shades of color on the terrestrial land-
scape— for the surrounding atmospliere, which
supports the element of fire, conveys the clouds
over every region, and sustains and invigorates
the functions of animal life — for the variety of
beautiful and majestic scenery which diversifies
our terrestrial system — for the towering cliffs, the
lofty mountains, and the expansive vales — for the
meandering river, gliding through the fields, and
diffusing health and fertility wherever it flows —
for the riches which abound in the gardens, the
forests, and the fields, and the mineral treasures
contained in the bowels of the mountains — for
the harmony of musical sounds, the mellifluous
notes of the nightingale and the lark, and the
melodious warblings wliich resound from the vales,
the mountains, and the groves — for the flowers
which enamel the meadows, the trees, the shrubs,
and the waving grain which adorn the earth
with picturesque beauty — for the animated beings
which contribute to our comfort, the bee which
collects for us honey from every opening flower,
the sheep which yields its fleeces for our clothing,
and thousands of other creatures which contribute
to supply us with food, raiment, furniture, and
innumerable enjoyments. In all these, and simi-
lar objects, he perceives ample reasons for elevating
his soul in lively gratitude to his bountiful Bene-
factor.

When he turns his eyes upon himself, and con-
siders the wonderful machinery which gives life
and motion to his frame, he perceives tiie strong-
est reason for the exercise of incessant admiration
and gratitude. He feels grateful for every joint
of his fingers, and for every movement of his
wrist, by which he is enabled with the utmost
ease to perform a countless variety of manual
operations essential to his comfort — for the hun-
dreds of bones which support his animal system,

SUBLIMITY OF THE PRINCIPLE OF LOVE.

31

fi

Willi their various articulations, and the hundreds
of muscles and tendons which are interwoven
with every part of the machine, which enable it
to perform without the least obstruction, a thou-
sand varied movements subservient to his health,
convenience, and pleasure. He cannot walk
through his apartment, nor lift his eyes to the
heavens, nor move a joint of his finger, nor
draw a single breath, without i)crcfiviiig an evi-
dence of the wisdom and intelligence of his Al-
mighty Maker. He perceives, that if only one
joint were wanting, or one muscle out of action,
or one movement out of a thousand interrupted,
he would instantly be subjected to a thousand
painful sensations wliich would throw a gloom on
every earthly enjoyment. But es[)ecially, when
he reflects on the wonders of vision — the thou-
eands of millions of rays that are every moment
darting from the objects around him, crossing
each other in an infinity of directions, and yet
conveying to every eye a distinct perception of
their colors, motions, and diversified aspects; when
he reflects on the facility with which he can turn
his eye in every direction, upward and downward,
to the right hand and to the left, and in a moment
take in the landscape of the earth and the heavens
"at a small inlet which a grain might close;"
when he considers the numerous and complicated
movements continually going on within him — the
heart, like a powerful engine in perpetual motion,
impelling, with prodigious force, streams of blood
through a thousand ditFerent tubes — the numerous
lacteal and lymphatic vessels absorbing nutriment
from the food, and conveying it through every
part of this wonderful machine, wht.-n he consi-
ders that these incessant motions are, as it wore,
the immediate hand of the Divinity within him,
over which he can exercise no control, and which
are all intended to preserve his existence and mi-
nister to his enjoyment, — lie cannot forbear ex-
claiming, in the language of grateful admiration,
"How precious are tliy wonderful contrivances
concerning me, O God ! how great is the sura of
them! If I should count them, they are more in
number than the sand. I will praise thee, for I
am fearfully and wonderfullj' made!"

He does not overlook such instances of " the
loving-kindness of God," because, to some, they
may apear minute and trivial. He does not con-
ti'ast them with what are reckoned spiritual and
more important blessings; nor attempt to institute
comparisons between the beneficent operations of
Omnipotence, in order to throw a certain portion
of them into the shade. He considers all the ope-
rations of God from the plan of redemption for
guilty men, and the mission of his Son into our
world, to the minutest muscle that moves the
joint of a finger, or the ray of light that darts
from a flower of the field, as parts of one vast
system of boundless benevolence, as essentially
connected together as the links of a chain; and,
in regard to himself, he views all the variety of
blessings now alluded to, as one undivided stream
of unbounded beneficence, commencing with the
first moment of his existence, running through
all the scenes atid circumstances of his terrestrial
existence, and expanding into the unfathomable
ocean of eternity. In the whole series of contri-
vances and events which relate to his present and
future existence, both in what we consider the
minutest and the most magnificent works of the
Deity, he pfrceives the stamp of infrtiic pcrfsr-
iion, and a counection of ])lan and of operation,
which exc u ies all attempts at comparisons and
contrasts. Under such impre'^-ious, and with
Huch views of the concatenation of every part of

the scheme of divine benevolence, he is led to
contemplate the kindness of God at every step,
and in every object, and is ever ready to ex'^laim,
" What shall I render to the Lord for all his bene-
fits toward me?"

In fine, supremo love to God includes in its ex-
ercise, a delight in the public and private exercises
of his worship, a constant endeavor to yield a
willing and unreserved obedience to all the insti-
tutions he has appointed, and to all the laws he
lias issued forth for counteracting the depravity
of our natures, and for raising us to a state of
moral perfection; an active and enlightened zeal
for the honor of his name, and for promoting
those institutions which have a tendency to ad-
vance his kingdom in the earth; a sincere and
disinterested affection to all our fellow-men, and
particularly to every class of holy intelligences;
a cordial approbation of all his plans and move-
ments in creation and providence ; and devout
aspirations after that higher state of existence,
where the glories of his nature and " the kind-
ness of his love" shall be more clearly unfolded,
and where love shall glow in one uninterrupted
and perpetual emotion.

Thus, it appears that love to God consists in
complacency in his character and administration,
and is inseparably connected with admiration of
his wonderful works, with humility, resignation,
and gratitude.

I cannot conclude my remarks on this topic
without adverting, for a little, to the nobleness
and sublimity of this first and fundamental spring
of all moral action. From what has been already
stated, it appears that love to God is the most rea-
sonable and amiable affection that can animate
the human mind; for that Being who is the object
of it is the sum of all perfection, the standard of
all moral and physical excellence, and the source
of all the felicity enjoyed by every rank of exist-
ence throughout the boundless universe. It ia
also the most sublime and expansive affection that
can pervade the mind of any created intelligence.
It excites the most rapturous emotions when we
contemplate the harmonics, the beauties, and the
sublimities of tlie universe; for it recognizes them
as the displays of boundless wisdom and boundless
goodness; as the production of that Almighty
Being who stands in the relation of our Father
and our Friend; and leads us to conclude, that
that power and intelligence which gave birth to
all that is grand and beautiful in heaven and on
earth, will be forever exercised in contributing to
our eternal enjoyment. Without such a recog-
nition, creation appears only like an innnensc de-
sert, and is apt to fill the mind with apprehension
and terror; for it can feel no ])leasurable emotions
in contemplating the operations of a Being for
whom it entertains no affectionate regard. But,
in our solitary walks in the fields and the gardens,
amidst the emanations of divine munificence; in
our journeys through the fertile plains ; in our
excursions through the Alpine scenes of nature;
in our investigations into the structure of the ani-
mal and vegetable tribes; and in our contempla-
tions on the wonders of the starry sky — love
throws a radiance on all these objects, and excites
an interest which cannot be appreciated by that
mind which has never felt the force of this sacred
emotion.

It rentiers us superior to the ills of life, while,
nnd'^r its influence, we bow, in cordial submis-
sion, to the divine dispensations, as the result of
perfect wisdom, rectitude, and benevolence. It
eu'ibles us to recognize the hand of a Divine Bene-
factor in evefy enjoyment, and the rod of an

32

PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.

afFectionato Father-, in every trial and affliction to
wliich we are subjected. It raises tlie soul above
the carkiiig cares and degrading pursuits of the
world, and enables it to look down with heroic
indilfereuce on all those trivial incidents and fan-
cied insults which irritate, and inflame, and tor-
ment " the children of jiritle." It preserves the
mind in calm serenity amidst the raging of the
tempest, the rolling thunders, the whirlwind, and
the hurricane, the eruptions of the volcano, and
the convulsions of the earthquake; while it recog-
nizes the Ruler of the storm, who presides amidst
the crash of warring elements, as its omnipotent
Protector and its eternal refuge.* It enables the
man in whose bosom it resides, to contemplate
with composure the downfall of kings and the re-
volutions of nations, to anticipate tlie hour of his
dissolution without dismay, and to look forward
with fortitude to the ruins of dissolving nature,
when " the elements shall inelt with fervent
heat," and the earth, with all its magnificence,
shall be wrapt in flames; confident that, under
" the shadow of the wings of the Almighty," he
shall remain in perfect security, amidst " the
wreck of matter and the crush of worlds."

Thjy divine principle assimilates lis to angels,
and to every other class of holy intelligences. It
renders us qualified for associating with these su-
perior intellectual natures — for entering into their
vast and comprehensive views — for conversing
with them on the sublime topics which occupy
tlieir attention — f6r bearing a part in their exten-
sive schemes of universal benevolence — and for
contributing, along with them, to the order and
prosperity of God's everlasting kingdom. It se-
cures to us the friendship and affection of all the
virtuous inhabitants of the universe, and renders
us fit for affectionate intercourse with them,
wherever we may aftei-ward exist, throughout the
boundless expanse of creation. Should we ever
be permitted, during the lapse of eternal duration,
to wing our flight from world to world, in order
to enlarge our views of God's unbounded empire,
the exercise of this holy affection would secure to
us a friendly reception and an affectionate inter-
course among all the pure intelligences within the
range of his moral administration : for, as this
principle is founded on the nature of God, who is
eternal and unchangeable, it must pervade the
minds of the inhabitants of all worlds that have
retained their primitive integrity. It is this divine
affection which excites the rapturous flame that
glows in the breasts of the angelic tribes, wliich
enlivens the songs and the adorations of the che-
rubim and the s^aphim, which inspires them
with a noble ardor in executing the commands
of their Creator, and which animates them in
their flight from the celestial regions to this ob-
scure corner of creation, when they minister to
the heirs of salvation. It was this noble principle
which impelled the angel Gabriel in his rapid
flight through the celestial spaces, when he de-
scended to announce to Daniel the answer to his

• The celebrated Kircher, in his relation of the dreadful
earthquake in Calabria, in 1G38, which overthrew the city
of Enphemia, of which he was a spectator, expresses his
feelings on that occasion in the following words: — " The
universal ruin around me, the crash of falling houses,
the tottering of towers, and the groans of the dying, all con-
tributed to raise terror and despair. On every side of me, I
saw nothing but a scene of ruin and danger threatening
wherever I should fly. 1 commended myself to God, as my
last great refuge. At that hour, O how vain was every sub-
lunary happiness! wealth, honor, empire, wisdom, all mere
useless sounds, and as empty as the bubbles of the deep.
Just standing on the threshold of eternity, nothing but God
was my pleasure; and the nearer I approached, I only loved
kim the more."

supplications, and to Zacharias and Mary the birth
of the Saviour; which animated the angels who
unbarred tlie prison doors to Peter, and gave assu-
rance to Paul of the divine protection, while he
was tossing on the tempestuous billows of the
Adriatic sea; and which fanned the flame of do»
votion in the heavenly host, when they sung, in
the plains of Bethlehem, " Glory to God in th«
highest, peace on earth, and good will toward
men."

In fine, this sublime affection assimilates us to
God, who is benevolence itself, who supremely
loves his own character, and who is incessantly
displaying his benevolence, in .all its infinitely
diversified effects, throughout the intelligent uni-
verse. It assimilates us to Jesus the Son of the
Highest, who is " the brightness of the Father's
glory, and the express image of his person," and
who is forever actuated with fervent zeal for the
honor of God, and for the happiness of man. It
constitutes the foundation of all felicity; it opens
the gates to perpetual enjoyment; it secures its
possessor of eternal happiness, as its natural and
necessary result, and prepares him for mingling
in the employments of the " innumerable com-
pany of angels and the spirits of just men made
perfect;" for all the transporting scenes of glory,
and all the avenues to felicity, which w'ill be
opened to the immortal spirit, while ages, nume-
rous as the sand, are rolling on, while mighty
worlds are emerging out of nothing, and innume-
rable orders of beings are starting into existence,
may be considered as so many infinitely diversified
streams flowing from supreme affection to the
blessed God, as the spring of every rapturous en-
joyment. Possessed of this divine principle, we
secure the most honorable connections, become
benefactors to the intelligent universe, participa*
tors of the enjoyments of seraphic natures, agents
for carrying forward the plans of Infinite Benevo-
lence, and "workers together with God," in ac-
complishing his eternal designs. Without it, we
become nuisances in the kingdom of God, rebela
against his government, pests to fellow intelli-
gences, destitute of the noblest of all affections,
deprived of substantial enjoyment in the present
world, and exposed to misery, without interrup-
tion, in the world to come.

If such be the native effects of supreme love to
God, and if this principle lie at the foundation
of all genuine morality, how foolish and prepos-
terous is it for Christian moralists to wander
through the dark labyrinths of Greek and Roman
literature, and the intricate mazes of modern
skeptical philosophy, in search of any other prin-
ciples of moral action! It is like groping for the
light of the sun in the windings of a subter-
raneous grotto, and preferring the glimmering of
a taper to the full blaze of the orb of day. It is,
to forsake " the fountain of living waters, and to
hew out to themselves broken and empty cisterns,
that can hold no water."

In order to invigorate and expand this affection
in the mind, it is requisite that we take a compre-
hensive view of all the manifestations of that Be-
ing toward whom it is directed, -as exhibited in
the history of his operations recorded in the
volume of inspiration; in the details of his moral
government among the nations, both in ancient
and in modern times, which may be collected
from the writings of historians, voyagers, trave-
lers, and missionaries; in the economy of the in-
ferior tribes of animated beings; in the diversified
scenery of nature around us in our terrestrial
system; and in the sublime movements that are
going forward, among distant worlds, in the firma-

EQUALITY OF MANKIND.

33

ment of his power; for, Jhe more wo know of the
mauifestations of the Creator, tlie more acquain-
tance sliall we liuve of the Creator himself; and,
in proportion as our knowledge of his character
is enlarged, in a similar proportion will our love
te ardent and expansive. Such extensive views

and contemplations are indispensably requisite, ia
order to a full recognition of tlie divine injunc-
tion, " Tlmu shalt wve the Lord thy God with all
thy heart, and with all thy strength, and with all
thine understanding." This is the first and tlie
great commandment.

CHAPTEK II.

SECOND PRINCIPLE OF MORAL ACTION— LOVE TO ALL SUBORDINATE IN-
TELLIGENCES.

In the commencemout of the last cha])ter, I
had occasion to remark tiiat, strictly speaking,
the fundamental principle or aft'ectiou wliich
gives birth to all tlie ramifications of moral ac-
tion, is but one, namely. Love. This noble affec-
tion may be considered as dividing itself into two
great streams, one directing its course toward the
Creator, as the supreme source of all felicity, and
the other expanding itself toward all the intellec-
tual beings wliich he has formed.

Having, in the preceding pages, endeavored to
illustrate the foundation and tlio reasonableness
of the principle of love to God, from a considera-
tion of his perfections, character, and relations,
and having described some of tliose kindred af-
fections by which its existence in the minds of
moral agents is manifested, — I shall now endea-
vor to exhibit the foundation, and the reasonable-
ness, of that modification of love wliich is direct-
ed toward created intelligences, and which may
be termed the second principle of moral action —

THOU SHALT LOVE THY NEIGHBOR AS THYSELF. Tfdi-

ing it for granted that this is the fundamental
law prescribed by the Creator for regulating the
conduct of intelligent beings toward each other —
because the Supreme Lawgiver has proclaimed it
as such in Die revelation which he has given us
of his will — I shall endeavor to exhibit the rea-
sonableness and the beauty of this amiable princi-
ple— from the nature of man, and the relations in
which all the individuals of the human race stand
to eacli other — from the happiness which would
flov/ from the uniform operation of this principle
— and from the misery which would inevitably
ensue were it completely eradicated from the
minds of moral agents.

Before proceeding to the illustration of these
particulars, it may be proper to remark, that by
"ovr neighbor'''' is to be understood men of every
nation and of every clime, whether they avow tfiem-
selves as our friends or our enemies, and whitever
may be tlieir language, their religion, their rank, or
station. The inhabitants of New Zealand, of Pa-
tagonia, of New Holland, of the Ladrones, of
Kamtschatka, or of Greenland, are our neighbors,
in the sense intended in the divine injunctioji
above quoted, as well as those who reside in our own
nation and in our more immediate neighborhood.
For with all these, and other tribes of mankind,
we may happen to have intercourses, eitlier direct-
ly or indirectly, and toward them all we ought to
exercise an aflection analogous to that which
every man exercises toward himself. This we
are decisively taught by our Saviour in the para-
ble of the good Samaritan, in which it is clearly
Bhown, that under the designation of neighbor,
we are to include even our bitterest enemies.
His apostles avowed the same sentiment, and
taught, that in the bonds of Christian love, no dis-

tinction sliould exist between "Jews and Greeks,
Barbarians, Scythians, bond, or free." For they
are all members of the great family of God, and
recognized as children by the universal parent.

SECTION I.

The JfATirRAL EQUALITY OF MANKIND CONSIDERED
AS THE BASIS OF LOVE TO OUR NEIGHBOR.

I SHALL now exhibit a few considerations found-
ed on the Natural Equality of Mankind, in order
to evince the reasonableness and the necessity
of the operation of the principle of love toward
all our fellow-men.

In the first place. Men, of whatever rank, kin-
dred, or tribe, are the offspring of the great Pa-
rent of the universe. They were all created by
the same Almighty Being, and to him they are
indebted for all the members and functions of
their animal frames, and for those powers, capa-
cities, and endowments, which render thera su-
perior to the clods of the valley and to the beasts
of the forest. TJiey derived their origin too, as
to their bodies, from the same physical principles
and from the same earthly parent. " Of the dust
of the ground" the body of the first man was
formed; and from Adam, the primogenitor of
the human race, have. descended all the genera-
tions of men which now exist, or will hereafter
exist until the close of time. This is equally true
of the prince and of his subjects; of the monarch
arrayed in purple, and seated on a throne, and of
the beggar, who is clothed in rags, and embraces a
dunghill; of the proud nobleman, who boasts of a
long line of illustrious ancestors, and of the ob-
scure peasant, whose progenitors were unnoticed
and unknown. All derived their origin from the
dust, and all return to the dust again. This con-
sideration, on which it is unnecessary to dwell,
shows the reasonableness of union" id-affection
among men, on the same grounds frrblewhich we
conclude that brothers and sisters belonging to
the same family ought to manifest a friendly af-
fection for each other.

Secondly, Men of all nations and ranks aro
equal in respect to the mechanism of their bodie*
and the mental faculties with which they are en-
dowed. Whether their bodies be rudely covered
with the skins of beasts, or adorned with the
splendors of royalty; whether they be exposed
naked to the scorching heats and piercing colds,
or arrayed in robes of silk and crimson — in their
construction and symmetry they equally bear the
impress of infinite wisdom and omnipotence.
The body of the meanest peasant, who earns bis

Si

TUt: PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

scanty subsistence from day to day by the sweat
of his brow, is equidly admirable, in the motions
of its fingers, tiic structure of its limbs, and the
connection and uses of its several functions, as
the body of the miglitiest and tlio proudest baron
who looks down upon him with contempt. I'lie
organs of vision comprise as many coats and hu-
naors, muscular fibers, and lymphatic ducts, and
form as delicate pictures upon the retina — the
bones are equally numerous, and as accurately
articulated — the muscles perform their functions
with as great precision and facility — the lymphatic
and absorbent vessels are as numerous and inces-
sant in their operations — and the heart iiupels the
blood through a thousand veins and arteries with
as great a degree of rapidity and of piirUij in the
corporeal frame of a poor African slave, who is
daily smarting under the lash of an unfeeling
planter, as in the body of tlie Emi)eror of China,
who sways his scepter over half the inhabitants
of the globe. All the external trappings which
fascinate the vulgar eye, and by which the various
ranks of mankind are distinguished, are merely
adventitious, and have no necessary connection
with the intrinsic dignity of man. They are part
of the consequences of the depravity of our spe-
cies: in most instances they are the results of
vanity, folly, pride, and frivolity; and they consti-
tute no essential distinction between man and
man; for a few paltry gviineas would sufKce to
deck the son of a peasant with all the ornaments
of a peer.

Men are also nearly on a level in respect to the
mental faculties which they possess. Every man,
however low his station in tlie present world, is
endowed with a spiritual principle which he re-
ceived by " the inspiration of the Almighty,"
which is superior to all the mechanism and motii-
fications of matter, and by which he is allied to
beings of a superior order. The faculties of con-
sciousness, perception, memor}-, conception, ima-
gination, judgment, reasoning, and moral feeling,
are common to men of all casts and nations. The
power of recollecting the pa-st, and of anticipating
the future — of deducing conclusions from promises
previously demonstrated — of representing to the
mind objects and scenes which have long ceased
to exist; of forming in the imagination new com-
binations of the objects of sense; of perceiving
the qualities of moral actions, and distinguishing
between right and wrong; of recognizing a su-
preme intelligent Agent in the movements of the
universe, and of making perpetual advances in
knowledge and felicity; faculties which distin-
guish man from all the other tribes which people
the earth, air, or sea; are possessed by the dwarfish
Laplander and the untutored peasant, as well as
by the ruler of kingdoms, the enlightened states-
man, and the. man of science. It is true, indeed,
that there is u mighty difterence among men in
the direct i.Qjfellfi' these faculties, in the objects to-
ward whiciiagiliey are directed, in the cultivation
they have received, and in the degree of perfec-
tion to which they have attained. There are in-
numerable gradations in the improvement and the
energies of intellect, from the narrow range of
thought possessed by a Greenlander or au Esqui-
maux, to the sublime and expansive views of a
Bacon, or a Newton. But, this diiTerence depends
more on the physical and moral circumstances in
which they are placed than on any intrinsic dif-
ference in the faculties themselves. Place the son
of a boor or of a Laplander in circumstances fa-
vorable to the development of his mental powers,
and afford him the requisite means for directing
and increasing their activity, and he will display

powers of intelligence equal to those which are
found in the highest ra?iks of civilized life. A
sound understanding, a correct judgment, vigor
of mind, control over the irasciljle passions, and
other mental endowments, though destitute of
polish, will as frequently be found in the lower
walks of life as in the elevated ranks of opulence
and ])OWer.

The philosopher, however, as well as the man
of rank, is apt to look down with a contemptuous
sneer on the narrow conceptions of the husband-
man, the mechanic, and the peasant; and is dis-
posed to treat tiiein as if they were an inferior
species of intelligent beings. He does not always
consider that the profound and the subtle specu-
lations, which are dignified with the title of phi-
losophy, are frequently of less importance to the
progress of the human mind, and to the enjoy-
ment of substantial comfort, than the deduction!
of common sense and the dictates of a sound
though plain understanding; that they torment
him with feelings, doubts, and perplexities, which
sometimes sliake the whole fabric of his know-
ledge, and lead him into labyrinths, out of which
he can scaixely extricate his way; while the man
of plain understanding, guided by a few certain
and important points of truth, prosecutes the path
of virtue with safety and success. For it may be
considered as an established maxim, that the most
interesting and salutary truths connected with
the happiness of man are neither numerous nor
difficult to be acquired, and are level to the com-
prehension of men of every nation and of every
rank. But however groveling, may be the affec-
tions, and however limited the intellectual views
of the untutored ranks of society, they are capable
of being trainedto the knowledge ahd the practice
of everything v/hich regards their present comfort
and their future happiness; and to devise and exe-
cute the means by which this object may be ac-
complished, is one way, among many others, by
which our love to mankind should be displayed
and demonstrated. We have no reason to com-
plain of the want of mental energy, or of the
ignorance and folly of the lower orders of man-
kind, and to des[)ise tliem on this account, while
we sit still in criminal apathy, and refuse to apply
those means which are requisite to raise them
from their state of moral and intellectual degra-
dation.

Thirdly, Mankind are on an equality, in respect
of that moral depravity with which they are all
infected. From whatever cause it may be con-
ceived to have originated, the fact is certain, that
a moral -disease has spread itself through all the
branches of the human family, in whatever sta-
tion, or in whatever regions of the globe they
may be placed. Whether we look back on the
" generations of old," or survey the moral state
of the nations in modern times; whether we turn
our eyes to the abodes of savage or of civilized
life; whether we contemplate the characters of
the higher orders of society, or the practices
which abound among the inferior ranks of social
life; the stamp of depravity, in one shape or an-
other, appears impressed upon the general conduct
of mankind. In the case of nations, this depra-
vity- has manifested itself in those wars, dissen-
sions, devastations, and contentions for territory
and power, which have in all ages convulsed the
human race and disturbed the peace of the world
Among lesser societies, families, and individuals,
it is displaj-cd in the operation of the princij)les
of pride, ambition, tyranny, persecution, revenge,
malice, envy, falsehood, deceit, covetousness, an-
ger, and other malignant passions, which liavo

EQUALITY OF MANKIND.

3ft

Infested all ranks and conditions of men. This
depravity infects tlie higher ranks of mankind
equally with tlie lower, tliough among the former
it is sometimes varnished over with a fairer exte-
rior; aiul therefore, there is no rank or order of
men that have any valid reason on this ground
for despising their fellow-creatures, or withhold-
ing from them the exercise of love and afTection.
For "there is none righteous, no, not one: for all
have sinned, and come short of the glory of God."
And in this point of vjew, love ought to exercise
its beneficent energies, in endeavoring to coun-
teract the stream of human corruption, and in
disseminating those divine principles which are
calculated to raise mankind to the moral dignity
of their nature.

Fourthly, Mankind possess substantially the
same pleasures and enjoyments. It is a trite say-
ing, but it is nevertheless a true and important
one, that happiness does not depend upon the raidv
and stations we occupy in life, nor upon the quan-
tity of wealth or riches we possess. The pleasures
which flow from the movements of the system
of nature, and from the beauties which adorn the
heavens and the earth, are common and open to
all the inhabitants of the globe. The rising sun,
the smiling day, the flowery landscape, the purl-
ing streams, the lofty mountains, the fertile vales,
the verdure of the meadows, the ruddy hues of
the evening clouds, the rainbow adorned with all
the colors of light, the coruscations of the north-
ern lights, the music of the groves, the songs of
the nightingale and the lark, the breath of spring,
the fruits of harvest, the azure sky, the blazing
comet, the planets in their courses, the moon walk-
ing in brightness, and the radiant host of stars,
convoy to the mind thousands of delightful images
and sensations, which charm the cottager and the
mechanic no less than the sons of opulence and
fame. The pleasures of the senses, of eating and
drinking, of affectionate friendship, of social and
domestic intercourse, of a cheerful contented
mind, of fervent piety toward V^od, and cf the
hope of immortality beyond the grave, ixay be
enjoyed by men of every color, and ran«:, and
condition in life; by the inhabitants of the cot-
tage, as well as by the potentate who sways bin
Bcepter over kingdoms. Nor does it materially
detract from these enjoyments in the case of tiie
peasant, that his body is frequently hung vrith
rags, that he subsists on the coarsest fare, and re-
poses under the thatch of a miserable hut. for
habit is the great leveler of mankind; it recon-
ciles us to innumerable inconveniences and pri-
vations, and blunts the edge of the keenest plea-
sures. The owner of a princely mansion fre-
quently loathes the most delicious dainties on his
table, and walks through his magnificent apart-
ments, suiTounded with paintings and decorations,
with as much apathy and inoiUerence as if he
were in an Indian wigwam or a clay-built cottage.
So that, in the pleasures of sense, of afTection,
and sentiment, there is no essential distinction
between the high and the low, the rich and the
poor. But should it be insinuated that the poor
and the ignoble have fewer enjoyments than the
rich, then it will follow, that toward them in a
particular manner our benevolent afTections ought
to be directed, in order that they may enjoy a
competent portion of those physical and intellect-
ual pleasures which the Creator has provided for
all his creatures.

Fifthly, Men in ever>' condition and in every
clime have the same wants, aaid are exposed to the
same disasters and afflictions. Hunger and thirst,
coLJ and heat, motion and rest, are common to all

Vol. I.— 19

orders and conditions of men; and in order to
supply and alleviate such wants, the aid of our
fellow-men is indispensably requisite, to enable us
to obtain food, raiment, light, waimth, comforta-
ble accommodation, and shelter from the blaats
of the tempest. We all stand in need of comfort
and advice in the hour of difficulty and danger;
we all long for the love, and friendship, and good
offices of those around us; and we all thirst foi
an increase of knowledge, happiness, and joy.
'And those wants and desires can be supplied and
gratified only by the kindly intercourse and affec-
tion of kindred spirits.

All are exposed to the same sorrows and af-
flictions. Disappointments, anxiety, disgrace, acci-
dents, pain, sickness, disease, loss of health, for-
tune, and honor, bereavement of children, friends,
and relatives, are equally the lot of the prince and
the peasant. The prince in the cradle is a being
as weak and feeble, as dependent on his nurse,
has as many wants to be supplied, is liable to as
many diseases and accidents, and requires as many
exertions to learn to lisp, to speak, and to walk,
as the new-born babe of his meanest subject.
Nay, the rich and the powerful are frequently
exposed to miseries and vexations from fancied
insults, affronts, and provocations, from frus-
trated hopes, from pride, vanity, and ill-humor,
from abortive projects and disconcerted plans, to
which the poor are generally strangers. If we
enter into one of the abodes of poverty, where
one of the victims of disease is reclining, we may
behold a poor emaciated mortal, with haggard
looks and a heaving breast, reposing on a pillow
of straw, surrounded by ragged cliildreu and aa
affectionate wife, all eager to soothe his sorrowi
and alleviate his distress. If we pass through a
crowd of domestics and courtly attendants into
the mansion of opulence, where disease or the
h&j'binger of death has seized one of its victims,
V»e may also behold a wretch, pale, blotched, aad
distorted, agonizing under the pain of the asthma,
t.he gravel, or the gout, and trembling under the
apprehensions of the solemnity of a future judg-
ment, without one sincere friend to afford him a
drop of consolation. Neither the splendor of hia
apartment, nor the costly crimson with which hia
couch is hung, nor the attentions of his physi-
cians, nor the number of his attendants, can pre-
vent the hitler taste of nauseous medicines, the
intolerable pains, the misgivings of heart, and the
pangs of conscience which he feels in common
with the meanest wretch who is expiring on a
dunghill.

Lastly, All ranks come to the same termination
of their mortal existence. " Dust thou art, and
unto dust thou shalt return," is a decree which
has gone forth against every inhabitant of our
globe, of whatever kindred, rank, or nation. The
tombs of mighty princes, of intrepid generals,
of illustrious statesmen, may be adorned with
lofty columns, with sculptured marble, and flatter-
ing inscriptions; but within these varnished mon-
uments their bodies present putrid carcasses, as
loathsome, and as much the prey of worms and
corruption, as the corpse of their meanest vassal.
Their eyes are equally impenetrable to the light
of day, their ears are equally deaf to the charma
of music, and their tongues are equally silent in
this land of deep forgetfulness. This considera-
tion of itself fully demonstrates, if any demon-
stration be necessary, the natural etftality of
mankind, and that there is no essential difference
between the noble and the ignoble, the emperor,
and the slave. And since maidiind are all equally
liable to afflictions and distresses, and are all

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

journeying to the tomb, nothing can be more
reasonable tlian the exercise of love, with all its
kinAcd affections, toward every class of our
fellow-mon, in order to alleviate their sorrows,
and to cinder tlioni on their passage through this
region of nioi'talitj'.

Thus it appears, that there is a natural equality
subsisting among mankind, in respect of their
origin, their corporeal organization, their intellec-
tual powers, their moral depravity, their wants,
their afflictions, tlieir pleasures, and enjoyments,
and the state to which they are reduced after they
have finished the career of their mortal existence.
The illustration of such circumstances would be
quite unnecessary, were it not that a certain pro-
portion of mankind, under the influence of pride
and other malignant passions, are still disposed to
look down on certaui classes of their fellow-
mortals as if they were a species of beings of an
inferior order in the sc;de of existence. To the
propriety of the sentiments now stated, the sacred
Scriptures bear ample testimony. "The rich and
the poor meet together; the Lord is the maker of
them all.'"* "Did not he that made me in the
womb make my servant, and did he not fashion
us alike ?"+ "God hath made of one blood all
nntions of men for to dwell on all the face nf the
earth, and hath determined the times before ap-
pointed, and the bounds of tlieir habitation.":];

Since, therefore, it appears, that mankind are
equal in everything that is essential to the human
character, this equality lays a broad foundation
for the exercise of ixniversal love toward men of all
nations, tribes, conditions, and ranks. It must
obviously appear contrary to every principle of
reason, repugnant to every amiable feeling, and
inconsistent with the general happiness of the
species, that intelligent beings, who are all
children of the same Almighty Parent, members
of the same great family, and linked together by
so many fraternal ties, should " bile and devour
one another," engage in hostile enterprises against
each other, look down with scorn and contempt
on each other, or even behold with indifference
the condition of the meanest member of the family
to which they belong. On the other hand, it is
consistent with the dictates of enlightened reason,
congenial to the best feelings of human nature,
and indispensably requisite to the promotion of
universal happiness, that such beings should be
united in the bonds of affection and harmony,
that they should sympathize with the distressed,
delight in beholding the happiness of all, "rejoice
with them that do rejoice, and weep with them
that weep;" — that every one, whether he be near
or far off, whether he be rich or poor, whether he
be learned or unlearned, whether he belong to this
or the other civil or religious society, whether his
color be black or white, whether he be blind, or
deaf, or lame, whether he be an inhabitant of
Greenland, Iceland, Barbary, Germany, France,
or Spain, whatever may be Lis language, manners,
or customs, should be recognized, wherever he
may be found, as a friend and brother; and a cor-
dial interest felt in everything that concerns his
welfare and comfort. Such a recognition of man
as man, is a duty which necessarily tlows from
the natural equalitj' of mankind, and is congenial
to the conduct of the Universal Parent toward all
his human off-spring. For, in his love to his nu-
merous family, and without respect of persons,
he makes the same vital air to give play to their
lungs, the same sun to cheer and enlighten them,

• Irov. ixii. 2. t Job xxii. 13. t Acts xvii. 26.

and the same rains and dews to refresh theli
fields, and to ripen the fruits of harvest.

Let it not, however, be inferred, from what ha#
been now stated, that we mean to sap the founda*
tions of that subordination of ranks which exist?
in this world. This gradation in society is tiie
a()pointment of God, and necessarily flows frcm
the circumstances and relations in which nits. .'«
placed in this first stage of his existence; &i,Q|
were it completely overthrown, society would b«
plunged into a scene of anarchy and confusion;
and tiie greater part of the individuals which
compose it, would become a lawless banditti.
Whether or not there exists a subordination of
office and rank among superior intelligences of the
same species, or among the inliabitauts of other
globes, we are unable at present to determine;
but in the actual condition of society in the world
in which we dwell, a state of complete indepen-
dence, and a perfect equality of wealth, station,
and rank, are impossible, so long as there exists
a diversity in the capacities, tempers, and pursuits
of men. On the diversity of rank, and the rela-
tions which subsist between the different classes
of society, as parents and children, masters and
servants, princes and subjects, is founded a great
proportion of those moral laws which God hath
promulgated in his word, for regulating the incli-
nations and the conduct of mankind.

Diversity of fortune and station appears abso-
lutely inevitable in a world where moral evil ex-
ists, and where its inhabitants are exposed to
dangers, difficulties, and distress. Whether the
inhabitants of a world, where moral perfectioa
reigns triumphant, can exist in a state of perfect
felicity, and move forward in progressive improve-
ment, without a subordination of rank, it is nol
for us to determine. But in such a world as oura^
it is a wise and gracious appointment of the Crea-
tor, and is attended with many and important ad-
vantages. Were there no diversity of wealth and
station, we should be deprived of many of the com-
forts, conveniences, and assistances which we now
enjoy. Every one would be obliged to provide for
himself food, drink, clothing, furniture, shelter,
medicines, and recreations; and in the season of
sickness, danger, and distress, he would have few
or none to alleviate his affliction, and rontribute
to his comfort. But, in consequence o /le diver-
sity which now exists, an opportunity « afforded
of employing the several capacities tnd endow-
ments of mankind in those lines of active exer-
tion, for which they are respectively fitted, and
of rendering them subservient for the improve-
ment and happiness of general society. One
exercises the trade of a weaver, another that of a
baker; one is a shoemaker, another a tailor; one
is an architect, another a farmer; one is a teacher
of science or religion; others have their minda
entertained and improved by his instructions.
One is appointed a ruler over a city, another over
a kingdom; one is employed in writing for the
amusement and instruction of mankind, another
is bmployed in printing and publishing his writr-
ings. By this arrangement, the powers and ca
pacities in which individuals excel, are gradually
carried to the highest degree of attainable per-
fection; and the exertions of a single indiv'lual
are rendered subservient to the ease, the con-
venience, and the mental improvement of tliou-
sands.

It is not to the diversity of rank and station,
that the evils which exist among the various class-
es of seciety are to be attributed; but to the in-
fluence of a spirit of pride, on the one hand, and
a spirit of insubordination on the other — to the

OMNIPOTENCE OF GOD.

37

want of a disposition to discharge the duties pecu-
liar to each station, and to the deficiency of those
kindly affections vviiich ought to be manifested
toward every human being, by nien in all the
ranks and departments of life. If love, in all its
benevolent ramifications, were to pervade the
various ranks of social life, kings would never
oppress their subjects, nor masters act unjustly
toward their servants; nor would subjects and
eerrants refuse to submit to just laws and equita-
H ble regulations. All would act their parts with
■ hannony and delight in this great moral machine,
m and every station and rank would contribute, in
its sphere, to the prosperity and happiness of an-
otlier. For the poor cannot do without the rich,
nor th** rich without the poor; the prince without
his subjects, nor subjects without wise and en-
lightened rulers, and equitable laws. All are
linked together by innumerable ties; and the re-
cognit'on of these ties, and the practice of the
reciprocal duties which arise out of them, form
the soiirce of individual happiness, and the bonds
of social enjoyment

SECTION II.
The coNNEcmoxs and relations which subsist

AMONG MANKIND CONSIDERED AS ESTABLISHING
THE BASIS OF LOVE TO OUR NEIfiHBOR.

The relations which subsist among mankind
lay a foundation for the exercise of the benevo-
lent affections, and for the various duties of social
life; and these relations are fur more numerous
and extensive than the generality of mankind are
disposed to admit. The relations of parents and
children, of husbands and wives, of brethren and
sisters, of masters and servants, of rulers and
subjects, of teachers and scholars, of buyers and
sellers, &c. are recognized by all us involving an
obligation to the exercise of certain corresponding
duties and afF?ctions. The moment we contem-
V plate the relation of a parent and a child, we at
once perceive the obligation of love on the part
of the parent, and of reverence and obedience on
the part of the child; and, in every other I'elation,
a corresponding duty is involved, resulting from
the nature of that relation, and founded on the
principle of love. But, as these relations, and
their corresponding duties and affections have
been frequently illustrated, I sliall advert to a
variety of circumstances, generally overlooked,
which demonstrate the universal connection of
human beings with each other, and the reasonable-
ness of the exercise of love toward all mankind.

Wherever we turn our eyes toward the great
family of mankind — whether we look around on
the land of our nativity, or to distant continents,
and the oceans which surround them, we behold
thousands of human beings toiling for our ease,
our convenience, our pleasure, and improvement.
— Here, we behold the plowman turning up the
furrows of the soil, and the sower casting in the
seed which is to produce the fruits of harvest: —
there, we behold the reaper cutting down the corn
which is to serve for our nourishment. On the
one hand, we behold the cow-herd tending his
cattle, which are to afford us milk, butter, and
cheese; on the other, we behold the shepherd
tending his flocks, whoso wool is to provide us
with warm and comfortable clothing. One is
preparing leather from the hides of oxen, anothfr
is sliapiug it into shoes and boots. One is spin-
ning llax and cotton into yarn, anotluej: is weav-

ing it into linen and muslin, to cover and adorn
us. One is dressing the vine, whose juice is to
cheer and refresh us; another is treading the
wine-press, and preparing the wine for our use.
Here, we behold the blacksmith toiling and
sweating at the anvil, preparing tongs, and sho-
vels, and grates, for our apartments; there, we be-
hold the carpenter, with his hammer, and plane,
and saw, fitting up beds, and tables, and chairs,
for our ease and accommodation. Here, one ia
preparing our food, and another our clothing;
there, one is preparing our drink, and another our
medicines. In one chamber, the student of nature
and of science is preparing, at the midnight lamp,
those compositions which are to convey entertain-
ment and instruction to tlie minds of the public;
in another, the herald of salvation is meditating
on those divine subjects, which he is about to pro-
claim for the illumination and comfort of assem-
bled multitudes. In short, to whatever depart-
ment of human society we direct our attention,
and to whatever quarter we turn our eyes, in
the busy scene around us, we behold thousands
of our fellow-men exerting their corporeal and
intellectual powers in those employments wiiich
will ultimately contribute either to our ease,
our entertainment, our security, our accommoda-
tion, onr subsistence, or our moral and intellectual
improvement.

But our connections with human beings are not
confined to our immediate neighborhood, nor
even to the nation in which we reside. There ia
scarcely a region of the globe toward which wo
can direct our view, in which we do not behold
innumerable links which connect us with the
great family of mankind. Let us turn our eyea
to the West India islands, and we shall behold the
poor African slave toiling under the scorching
heat of a tropical sun, and smarting under the
cruel lash of an unfeeling overseer, in order to
provide for us sugar, molasses, and rice, to mingle
with our dainties, and to regale our appetites.
If we direct our view to the empire of China, on
the opposite side of the globe, twelve thousand
miles distant from the former region, we shall be-
hold thousands and tens of thousands of our
brethren of the human family busily employed in
planting the tea tree, in plucking its leaves, in
exposing them to the steam of boiling water, in
spreading them out to dry, in assorting them into
diflerent parcels, in packing and shipping them
off for distant shores, that we, at a distance of
nine thousand miles, may enjoy a delicious beve-
rage for our morning and evening meals.* If
we turn our eyes on India and Persia, we shall
find multitudes of men, women, and children as-
siduously employed in cultivating the mulberry
plant, in hatching and rearing silk-worms, in
winding and twisting the delicate threads which
proceed from these insects, and preparing them
for the loom, in order that our ladies may be
adorned with this finest production of nature and
art. Let us pass in imagination to the frozen re-
gions of Siberia and Kamtschatka, to the inhospi-
table shores of Onalaska and the Aleutian isles,
and we shall behold numbers of weather-beaten

* For a portion of this beverage we are indebteil even to
some of the monkey tribe. As the tea sbrub often frro\vs
on the rugged banks of steep inoiintains, access to which is
dangerous, and sometimes impracticable, the Chinese, in
order to come at the leaves, make use of a singular strata-
gem. These steep places are generally frequented by great
numbers of monkeys, whicii, ' f>in^ irritated and provoked,
to avenje themselves, tear oft ine branches, and shower
them down opon those who have insnlted them. The Chi.
nese immediately collect these branches and stri; off their
leaves. — Eiici/. Brit,, Art. Tea.

88

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

wretches exposed to innumerable dangers by sea
and land, traversing snowy mountains, forests,
marshes, and deserts, suftcring frequent ship-
Wivcks on the coasts of unknown islands inhab-
ited by savage tribes, and exposed, night and day,
to tlio chilling frosts of the polar region, and the
attacks of ravenous wolves, in order to collect the
skins of otters, and furs of various descriptions,
to adorn the dress of our female friends, and to
shelter them from the winter's cold. Let us pass
to the forests of Norway, Sweden, Canada, and
Jamaica, and hundreds of hardy, weather-beaten
peasants, exposed to many accidents and priva-
tions, will be seen cutting down the tall firs,
larches, and mahogany, sawing them into planks
and logs, and conveying them in floats along rapid
rivers toward the sea, to be shipped for our coun-
try, for the purpose of beiiig formed into floors
and roofs for our buildings, and into elegant fur-
niture to decorate our apartments.

Not only in distant islands and continents, but
even in the midst of the vast ocean, multitudes of
our brethren are toiling for our pleasure, conve-
nience, and comfort. See yonder vessel in the
Southern Atlantic ocean, which has just weath-
ered the stormson the southern cape of Africa,
and narrowly escaped the dangers of shipwreck
on a rocky shore. For several weeks the hardy
mariners have been beating against the wind in
the midst of thunders, lightnings, and tempests,
with mountainous waves continually breaking
over them, darkness surrounding them for many
sleepless nights, and the dread of impending de-
struction filling them with trembling and horror.
And why have they been exposed to danger so
dreadful and appalling? That tliey might convey
to our shores, from China and Hindostau, stores
of tea, coffee, sugar, porcelain, silks, carpets, and
piecious stones, to supply luxuries to our tables,
and ornaments to our dress. See yonder vessel,
too, which is tossing in the midst of the Northern
ocean, passing between shoals and icebergs, and
liable every moment to be crushed to pieces be-
tween mountains of ice. Her mariners have long
been exposed to the rigors of an arctic sky, and
have narrowly escaped being plunged into the
deep by the stroke of an enormous whale, in order
that we might be supplied with seal-skins, whale-
bone, and oil for our lamps.

Even in the bowels of the ocean thousands of
poor wretches, on the coasts of California, Cey-
lon, Persia, and China, are diving amidst its waves,
remaining whole half hours, at sixty feet below
the surface of its waters, exposed to the danger
of being devoured by sharks and other monsters
of the deep, in order to collect pearls for orna-
ments to the ladies of Europe, Asia, Africa, and
America. — In shortj wherever we turn our eyes
on the surface of the mighty deep, we contem-
plate a busy scene of human beings plowing the
ocean in every direction, and toiling, in the midst
of dangers, storms, and tempests, in order to pro-
mote the accommodation of their fellow-mortals,
who dwell on opposite regions of the globe. On
the one hand, we behold thousands of hardy Rus-
sians, Swedes, and Norwegians, steering their
vessels along the Baltic and the German sea, to
convey to our shores copper, timber, pitch, skins,
hemp, and tallow; on the other, we behold the
Americans plowing the waves of the Atlantic,
with stores of mahogany, sugar, rice, flour, to-
bacco, rum, and brandy. Along the vast Pacific
ocean, the Spanish galleons are conveying to Eu-
rope, gold, silver, pearls, precious stones, and all
the other riches of Peru. Even from the south-
em icy ocean, where nature appears bound in the

fetters of eternal ice, the adventurous mariner ii
conveying to our shores furs of various kinds,
with the products of seals and whales. And, ia
nturn for the supply we receive from foreign re-
gions, our British sailors are traversing every sea
and ocean, and distributing to the inhabitants of
every clime the productions of our arts, sciences,
and manufactures.

Even in the subterraneous apartments of the
globe, as well as upon its surface, many thousands
of human beings are laboring, in confined and
gloomy regions, to promote our comforts and en-
joyments. The copper mines in Sweden are situ-
ated at more than a thousand feet below the sur-
face of the ground, and contain a vast number of
subterraneous apartments, branching in all direc-
tions In these dreary abodes, twelve hundred
wretched beings are doomed to pass their exist-
ence, deprived of the cheerful light of day — toil-
ing, almost naked, in the midst of hot and sul-
pjiureous vapors, and under severe task-masters,
in order that we may be supplied with the best
species of copper, for forming our kettles, caul-
drons, and copper-plate engravings. The salt
mines of Hungary and Poland, the gold and silver
mines of Potosi and Peru, and hundreds of similar
subterraneous mansions, in various parts of the
earth, present to our view numerous groups of
our fellow-men, all engaged in similar toils and
labors, in order that we may enjoy the riches, the
elegancies, and the conveniences of life. In our
own country, how many thousands of our breth-
ren are laboring in the dark recesses of the earth,
far beneath its surface, exposed to the suffocation
of the choke-damp and the explosions of the^re-
damp, in procuring for us that invaluable fossil,
wliicli warms and cheers our winter apartments,
which cooks our victuals, and enables us to carry
on the various processes of our arts and manu-
factories !

Tlius it appears, that we are connected with
our fellow-men, in every quarter of the world,
by thousands of ties; — that millions of human
beings, whom we have never seen, nor never will
see on this side the grave, are laboring to pro-
mote our interests, without whose exertions we
should be deprived of the greatest proportion of
our accommodations and enjoyments. While we
arc sitting in our comfortable apartments, feasting
on the bounties of Providence, thousands, and
ten thousands of our brethren of mankind, in
diffirent regions of the globe, are assiduously la-
boring to procure for us supplies for some future
entertainment. One is sowing the seed, another
gathering in the fruits of the liarvest; one is pro-
viding fuel, and another furs and flannel, to guard
us from the winter's cold; one is conveying home
the luxuries and necessaries of life, another is
bringing intelligence from our friends in distant
lauds; one is carrying grain to the mill, another
is grinding it, and another is conveying it along
the road to our habitations; one is in search of
medicines to assuage our pains, and another is in
search of consolation to soothe our wounded spi-
rits. In the midst of these never-ceasing exer-
tions, some are crossing deep and dangerous
rivers, some are traversing a vast howling wilder-
ness; some are wandering amidst swampy moors,
and trackless heaths; some are parched with
thirst in sandy deserts; some are shiverinc and
benumbed amidst the blasts of winter; sonie are
toiling along steep and dangerous roads, and oth-
ers are tossing in the midst of tlio ocean, buffeted
by the winds and raging billows.

And, since we are connected with our fellow-
creatures by so many links, is it not reasonable,

RELATIONS OF MANKIND.

89

IS it not cc Dgenial to the nature of man, tliat we
should be Gonnected with thorn by the ties of
eyinjiathy and benevolent affections? It is true,
indeed, that the various classes of mankind in
every country, who are toiling for our ease and
gratification, seldom or never think of us in the
midst of their difliculties and labors. Perhajis
tliey have no other end in view than to earn
theii daily subsistence, and provide food and clolii-
ing in tlieir families; perhaps they are actuated
by the most selfish motives, and by principles of
vanity and avarice; and some of them, perhaps,
under the influence of that depravity which is
cormnon to the species, may be secretly cursing
and reproaching us as individuals, or as a nation.
But, from whatever motives their labors and ex-
ertions proceed, it is a fact which cannot be de-
nied, aud which they cannot prevent, that we
actually enjoy the benefit of them; and, that,
without them, we should be deprived of the
greater part of those comforts and enjoyments
which render existence desirable, and which cheer
ns in our pilgrimage to the grave.

We have, therefore, in almost every Eirtificial
object that surrounds us, and in every enjoyment
we possess from day to day, so many sensil^le em-
blems of our connection with every branch of
the great family of mankind. When we sit down
to a dish of tea, we are reminded of the crowded
and busy population of China, where this plant
is produced, and of the poor African slave,
through whose sorrows and toils the sugar we
mix with it is prepared. And shall we not feel a
kindly affection for those whose labors procure us
each a refreshing beverage? And should not our
love prompt us to every active exertion by which
their miseries may be alleviated, and their intel-
lectual and religious improvement promoted? —
When we look at the pearls which adorn us, we
are reininded of the poor wretch who has plunged
to the bottom of the deep, and scrambled among
projecting rocks, to the danger of his life, in or-
der to procure them. When we look at a cop-
per-plate engraving, we are reminded of the dark
and cheerlaes recesses of the copper mines, where
hundreds are employed in digging for this useful
metal. When we enjoy the comfort of a cheer-
ful fire, we are reminded of the gloomy subterra-
neous regions to which so many of our country-
men are confined, and the toils and dangers to
which they are exposed, before our coals can be
dragged from the bowels of the earth. And while
we feel delighted with the diversified enjoyment
which flows from the labor and industry of every
class of mankind, is it reasonable that we should
look with indifference on any one of them? Is
it not accordant with the dictates of enlightened
reason, and with everytliing that we consider as
amiable in the nature of man, that we should em-
brace them all in the arms of kindness and broth-
erly affection, and that our active powers, so far
as our influence extends, should be employed
in endeavoring to promote their present and ever-
lasting happiness? At present, they seldom think
about the benefits they are procuring for us and
others by their useful labors; but wore their cir-
cumstances meliorated, were their miseries re-
lieved, were their minds expanded by instruction,
were their moral powers cultivated and improved,
were they to behold the various branches of the
human family for whom they are laboring, ex-
erting every nerve to promote their moral im-
provement and domestic enjoyment, it would pro-
duce many pleasing emotions in their breasts, in
the midst of all their toilsome labors, to reflect that
their exertions are the means of distributing nu-

merous comforts ana conveniences among men
of different nations, ranks, kindreds," and lan-
guages. Their minds would take a more exten-
sive range among the various tribes of mankind
with which they are connected, as iutelligencea
of the same species; they would learn to trace
the remotest consequences of every brmnch of la-
bor, and of every mechanical operation in which
they ai-e engaged, and they would thus feel them-
selves more intimately related to every individual
of the great family to whicii they belong.

That it is the intention of the Creator that an
extensive and affectionate intercourse should be
carried on between the remotest tribes of man-
kind, appears even from the physical constitution
and arrangement of our globe. The surface of
the earth is everywhere indented with rivers of
various dimensions, winding in every direction
through the continents and the larger islands,
and some of them running a course of several
thousands of miles. In the eastern continent,
above four hundred rivers of large dimensions are
rolling from the mountains toward the sea; and
in the western continent, more than one hundred
and forty majestic streams are to be found, con-
necting the highest and the remotest parts of the
land with the ocean, beside thousands of streams
of smaller dimensions. The water of the sea is
formed of such a consistency, or specific gravity,
that it is capable of supporting large floating edi-
fices; while, at the same time, its parts are so
yielding as to permit such vehicles to move with
rapidity along its surface, through its waves and
billows. In virtue of this arrangement, the ocean,
instead of standing as an everlasting barrier be-
tween the nations, has become a medium for the
most speedy intercourse between distant lands. —
The atmosphere which surrounds the globe, con-
tributes likewise by its agency to promote the
same important end. By the impulsion of its dif-
ferent masses in various directions, our ships are
wafted with considerable velocity along the sur-
face of rivers, seas, and oceans, to the remotest
extremities of the globe. By means of these ar-
rangements which the Creator has established,
the treasures of the mountains, and of the inland
parts of the continents and islands, are conveyed
toward the sea, and transported from one island
and continent to another; and thus the various
tribes of mankind have an opportunity of visiting
each other, of cultivating an affectionate inter-
course, and of contributing to their mutual en-
joyment. And as it is probable that there exist
in nature certain powers or principles not yet
discovered, the agency of which may be applied
to the propelling of machines and vehicles over
land and water, and through the regions of the
atmosphere, with a velocity much superior to
what has hitherto been effected ; — it appears evi-
dent, that the Creator, in forming such princi-
ples, aud in permitting man to discover their na-
ture and energies, intended that they should be
applied for promoting a rapid and endearing inter-
course among all the branches of that large fami-
ly which he has placed upon the globe. And I
have no doubt, that in the future ages of the
world, by means of improvements in art and sci-
ence, such intercourse will be carried on in the
spirit of benevolence, to an extent aud with a ra-
pidity of which we cannot at present form any
adequate conception.

It appears, then, to be one great design of th«
Creator, in connecting mankind by so many links,
and in rendering them dependent upon each other,
though placed in opposite regions of the globe, to
lay a broad foundation for the exercise of the

40

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

benevolent affections between men of all nations,
and ultiiilately to unite the whole human race in
one harmonious and atrectionute society. And it
is obviously the duty of every human being to
cultivate those dispositions, and to prosecute that
train of action which have a tL-ndency to accom-
plish the plans of the Universal Parent, and to
promote the happiness of his iutellig-ent oft'spring.
In so doing, he contributes to his own individual
happiness, and at the same time to that of all the
moral intelligences in heaven and earth with
which he is connected.

SECTION III.

The ultimate destination of mankind consid-
ered AS A BASIS FOR LOVE TO OUR ' NEIGHBOR,
AND AS A MOTIVE TO ITS EXERCISE.

The present world is not the ultimate destina-
tion of mankind. It is only a passing scene
through which they are now traveling to that
immortal existence which will have no termina-
tion. Man is at present in the infancy of his be-
ing; his faculties are only beginning to expand,
his moral powers are feeble anJ depraved, his in-
tellectual views are circumscribed within a nar-
row range, and' all the relations in which he
stands demonstrate that the present scene is con-
nected with the future, and is introductory to a
higher sphere of action and enjoyment. "We
know," says the Apostle Paul, " that if this earth-
ly house of our tabernacle were dissolved, we
have a building of God, an house not made with
hands, eternal in the heavens." And our Saviour
declares, that " the hour is coming, in which all
that are in their graves shall hear his voice, and
shall come forth," and that " our vile bodies sliall
be changed, and fashioned like unto his glorious
body," and shall enter into the enjoyment of a
new world, " which is incorruptible, undefiled,
and which fadeth not away."

The capacity of making perpetual advances
in knowledge and moral improvement in a future
state of existence, is that in which the true dig-
nity of man consists; and in this capacity, and
the high destination with which it is connected,
there is no difference between the high and the
low, the slave who is chained to a galley, and the
sovereign at whose nod the nations tremble. —
They are equally destined to immortality, and
will exist in a future world, when time and all
the arrangements of the present state shall come
to a close. If man were only the creature of a
day, whose prospects are bounded by this terres-
trial scene, and whose hopes terminate in the
tomb, it might appear a matter of comparatively
little importance whether or not our benevolent
regards were extended to our fellow-men, except
in so far as our self-interest and avarice were con-
cerned. The happiness of a fellow -creature might
then be considered as a matter of indifference,
and his dissolution, at death, a circumstance as
trivial as the falling of a leaf in autumn, or the
sinking of a stone to the bottom of the ocean. —
Even in this case, however, it would still be con-
ducive to human happiness during the short and
uncertain span of our existence, that all the
branches of the human family v\-ere cemented to-
gether in union and affection. But when we re-
flect that all the intelligent beings around us, with
whom we more immediately associate, and all
those in distant lands with whom we are con-
nected by the ties of one common nature, and on

whom we depend for many of our comforts, art
destined along with ourselves to an eternal world,
in another region of the Creator's empire; and
that the aflbctionswe now cultivate, and fJie con-
duct we pursue in reference to ourbrethien, have
an intimate relation to that immortal existence; —
this consi leration stamps an importance on tb«
exercise of brotherly affection which is beyond
the power of human language to express. It
sliows us, that the dispositions which we now in-
dulge, and the manner in which we treat the
meanest of our fellow-creatures, may be recog-
nized and attended vi'ith the most important ef-
fects a thousand millions of years hence, and
may run parallel in their consequences even witli
eternity itself.

We may, perhaps, view it as a matter of trivial
moment in what manner we now conduct our-
selves toward a servant or a slave; whether we
render his life miserable by hard labor, cruel in-
sults, and contemj>tuous treatment, or studj' to
promote his comfort and domestic enjoyment;
whether we neglect to instruct him in the know-
ledge of his duty to his God and to his fellow
men, or labor to promote his moral and religious
improvement. We may view with indifference
or contempt the person and the family of a poor
pious neighbor, who has earned a scanty subsis-
tence by the sweat of his brow, and may behold
his body laid in the grave with as much apathy
as we behold the carcass of a dog thrown into a
poud. But could we follow the pious man be-
yond the precincts of the tomb, into that immor-
tal scene which has burst upon his disencumbered
spirit; could we trace the gradual expansion of
his faculties toward objects which lie beyond the
grasp of mortals, and the perfection of his mo."al
powers; could we behold his moldered frame
starting up to new life at the "resurrection of the
just," and arrayed in new splendor and "beauty;
could we contemplate him placed in a station of
dignity and honor among the " sons of God," in
that glorious residence to which he is destined;
his intellectual powers expanding, grasping the
most sublime objects, and pushing forward in the
career of perpetual improvement, without the
least stain of moral imperfection; — would we now
treat such a one with malevolence, or even with
indifference or neglect? And were we placed by
his side in such a dignified station, what would
our feelings be when we recollected the apathy,
j the indifl'erence, and even the contempt with
which he was treated in this sublunary scene? —
On the other hand, could we follow the poor
wretched slave to the future world, and contem-
1 plate the degradation and m^isery to which he is
there reduced in consequence of our malevolence
and neglect, what emotions of horror and indig-
i nation should we not feel at the recollection of
that pride and disaffection which led us to act so
! basely toward a fellow-immortal, whom it was in
' our power to have trained to wisdom, to excel-
lence, and to a happy immortality? When,
therefore, we behold individuals withholding their
benevolent regard from their brethren of man-
! kind, and treating them with haughtiness and
I contempt, we must conclude that such persons
I overlook the true dignity of man, and secretly
disbelieve the reality of an immortal state of ex-
istence, whatever professions they may make to
' the contrary. For the consideration of the eter-
nal destiny of mankind reflects a dignity on the
' meanest human being, and attaches an iinpor-
! tance to all our affL-clions and actions in relation
' to him, unspeakably greater than if his existence
i were circumscribed within the narrow Imiits of

RELATIONS OF MANKIND.

41

time, and throws completely into the shade all the
degrading circumstances with which he is now
surrounded.

When we consider our brethren of the human
family in the liglit of immnrtul intellij^ences, and
look forward to the scenes of the eternal world,
a crowd of interesting reflections naturally arises
in the mind. A wide and unbounded prospect
opens before us. Amidst new creations and the
revolutions of systems and worlds, new displays
of the Creator's pcvcr and providence burst upon
the view. We behold ourselves placed on a the-
ater of action and enjoyment, and passing through
"scenes and changes" whicli bear no resemblance
to the transactions and events of this sublunary
world. We behold ourselves mingling with be-
ings of a superior order, cultivating nobler affec-
tions, and engaged in more sublime employments
than those which now occupy our attention. AVe
oehold ourselves associated with men of all na-
tions and kindreds, and with those who lived in
the remotest periods of time. Millions of years
roll on after millions, our capacities and powers
of intellect are still expanding, and new scenes of
beauty and magnificence are perpetually bursting
on the astonished mind, without any prospect of
a termination. Amidst those eternal scenes, we
shall doubtless enter into the most intimate con-
nection with persons whom we have never seen,
from whom we are now separated by continents
and oceans, with those whose bodies are now
moldering in the dust, with- those who have not
yet entered on the stage of existence, and with
those with whom we now refuse to associate on
account of their rank, and station, and religious
opinions. That man, into wliose dwelling we
would not at present deign to enter, and with
whom we would abhor to mingle in the public
services of religion, may then be one of our chief
companions in tlie regions of bliss, in directing
and expanding our views of the glory and magni-
ficence of God. The man whom we now hate
and despise, and whose offers of assistance we
would treat with disdain, may in that happier
world be a principal agent in opening to our view
new sdtt^es of contemplation and delight. That
Berva^phom we now treat as a being of inferior
epecie^^t whom we frown and scold with feel-
ings of proud superiority, may be our instructor
and director, and every way our superior, in that
region where earthly distinctions are unknown.
That humble instructor whom we now despise,
and whose sentiments we treat with contempt,
may, in that world of intelligence and love, be
our teacher and our guide to direct our views of
the attributes of the Deity, of the ai-rangements
of his providence, and of the glories of his em-
pire. There the prince may yield precedence to
his subjects, the master to tlie slave, and the peer
to the humblest peasant. For no pre-eminence
of birth, fortune, or learning, no excellence but
that which is founded on holiness and virtue, on
moral and intellectual endowments, will have any

Elace in the arrangements of that world where
uman distinctions are forever abolished and un-
known. And shall we now refuse to acknow-
ledge those who are to be our friends and com-
panions in that future world? Is it not agreeable
to the dictates of reason and to the voice of God
tha*. we should regard them with complacency
and afF;ction, whatever be the garb they now
wear, whatever be tlieir cob r or features, and in
whatever island or continent they may now reside?
It must, indeed, be admitted, that all the inlia-
bitants of our world will not be exalted to dignity
aud happiness in the fut ire state. A great pro- |

portion of them, in their present state of depra-
vity and degradation, are altogether unqualified
for participating in the exercises and enjoyments
of celestial intelligences. Whole nations are
still overspread with intellectual darkness, igno-
rant of their eternal destination, and immersed in
immoralities and vile abominations. And, even
in those countries where the light of revela-
tion has dispelled the gloom of heathenism, a vast
mass of human beings are to be found, "having
their understandings darkened, alienated from the
life of God," and sunk into the mire of every
moral pollution. Still, we have no reason, on thia
account, to overlook their native dignity, and
their high destination. Every human being we
see around us, however low in rank, or degraded
by vice, is endowed ivifh an immortal nature, and is
capable of being raised to the diynitij of an inhabit-
ant of heaven; and there is not a single individual
to whom we can point, either in our own coun-
try or in other lands, in relation to whom we are
authorized to affirm, that he will not be a partici-
pator in immortal bliss. And, therefore, every
man with whom we associate, and whom we re-
cognize in the circle of society around us, ought
to be viewed as one with whom we may associate
in the world to come. And as to those who ao-
pear to be partially enlightened and renovated in
their minds, we ought not to withhold our affec-
tion and complacency on account of their igno-
rance, their contracted views, or erroneous opi-
nions. We should view them, not as they are in
their present state of infancy and weakness, but
as they will be when arrived at maturity and
manhood; not as they appear in the first weak
essays of their intellectual powers, and in the
lowest step of their existence, but as they will ap-
pear in their career of improvement after a lapse
of millions of ages. Carrying forward our views
to those eternal scenes, and accompanying our
brethren of the human family through all the
gradations of their existence in future worlds, we
behold their faculties in progressive expansion,
their minds approximating nearer to the source
of eternal wisdom, their views of the empire of
Omnipotence continually enlarging, their know-
ledge of the plan of redemption, and its nume-
rous bearings, forever increasing; their love and
affection to God and to fellow intelligences wax-
ing into a more ardent flame; every evil propen-
sity corrected, every imperfection removed, every
blossom of virtue fully expanded, and "joy un-
speakable and full of glory " pervading every fa-
culty of their souls. And can we behold intelli-
gent minds, capable of so high and dignified
attainments, and the companions of our future
destiny, with indifference or contempt? Is there
not here a broad foundation laid for the most ex-
pansive emanations of love toward every member
of the great family of mankind, however much
he may be obscured, and sullied by folly and sia
in this first stage of his existence?

In the meantime, while the greater part of
mankind are immersed in ignorance and vice,
while the image of their Maker is defaced, and
tlieir immortal powers prostituted to the vilest
passions, the most noble and honorable operation
in which love can be engaged, is to devise and
execute schemes by which our degraded brethren
may be raised to intellectual and moral excel-
lence: to train up young immortals in religion
and virtue; to diffuse the principles of u.seful know-
ledge among all ranks; to counteract the diaboli-
cal spirit of war and contention; to abolish slavery
in every shape; to meliorate the social and domes-
tic condition of the lower orders of society; to

42

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

publisli tlio revelation of God in every language,
and to send forth tlie messengers of salvation to
every land, to instruct men of all nations and kin-
dreds and tongues in the knowledge of the true
God, and of the path wiiich leads to a blessed
immortality. Thus shall we be enabled to mani-
fest our love toward all our brethren of the hu-
man family; thus shall we contribute to render
tliem worthy of our highest alFection, and to pre-
pare them i'or the exalted exercises and employ-
ments of the life to conae.

SECTION IV.
Love to God and our neighbor enforced and

ILIX'SniATED, from A CONSIDERATION OF THE
MISERABLE EFFECTS WHICH WOULD ENSUE WERE
THF.SE PRINCIPLES REVERSED, AND WERE RATIONAL
BEINGS TO ACT ACCORDINGLY.

The two leading principles which I have en-
deavored to illustrate, in the preceding pages,
form the basis of the moral order of the intelli-
gent universe. Consequently, were these prin-
ciples reversed, and were moral agents to act ac-
cordingljs the moral world would soon be trans-
formed into a scene of the most dismal anarchy
and confusion. Every action would be dictated
by feelings of pure malevolence, and misery in
everj' shape would be the great object which hu-
man beings would exert their powers to accom-
plish. Could we suppose for a moment, that so-
ciety could subsist for any length of time under
the unrestrained operation of such a principle, the
following, among many thousands of similar ef-
fects, would be the natural and necessary results.

Every individual would exhibit, in every ac-
tion, the character of a fiend; and every family
would display a miniature picture of hell. — Be-
tween the husband and wife there would be no-
thing but incessant brawling, dissension, and exe-
cration. Whatever was ardently desired by the
one would be as resolutely and obstinately op-
posed by the other; and the fury and resentment
excited by unsatisfied desires, and disappointed
hopes, would destroy every vestige of peace and
tranquillity, and stimulate a host of infernal pas-
sions to rage without control. Their children
would be actuated by the same diabolical tempers.
The son would take an infernal pleasure in curs-
ing, insulting, and reproaching " the father tliat
begat him," and in trampling with scorn and in-
dignation on the mother who gave him birth. —
Brothers and sisters would live under the con-
tinual influence of malice and envj', " hateful, and
hating one another." Whatever actions tended
to irritate, to torment, and to enrage the passions
of each other, and to frustrate their desires and
expectations, would be performed with a grin of
infernaf delight. Mutual scuffles and execrations
would ensue. One would have his eye-ball bruis-
ed, or knocked out of its socket, another would
have his teeth driven out of his jaws; one would
have his hair torn from its roots, another his
skull fractured with repeated blows; the legs of
one would be full of bruises and putrefj"ing sores,
and the face of another all over covered with
blotches and scars, most hideous to behold; and,
in the progress of contention, the hand of a
brother would plunge his dagger into a brother's
heart. In larger societies, fraud, falsehood, de-
ceit, seduction, quarrels, oppression, plunder, ra-
pine, murder, and assassination, virould be the
common occurrences of every day and every

hour. The seller would uniformly endeavor to
cheat the buyer, and the buyer would endeavor,
by every kind of fraud, or open force, to deprive
the seller of the value of his commodities. Poison
would be sold for medicine, and deleterious mix-
tures and poisonous drugs would be mixed up
with the common articles of food, that the ven-
ders might enjoy the diabolical pleasure of hear-
ing of the pains, the agonies, and the dying
groans of the victims of their villany. The de-
bauchee would triumph in the number of victima
he had rendered wretched and forlorn by his wiles
and depraved passions; the strong would oppress
the weak, and rejoice in depriving them of every
comfort, and the powerful would exult in tramp-
ling under their feet the persons and the property
of the poor, and in beholding the extent of the
miseries they had created.

In the common intercour?* of life, every one
would be maltreated, insulted, and reproached,
as he walked along the street; the lip would be
shot out with a diabolical grin at every passen-
ger, which would be returned with the frown and
the scowl of a demon. Every passenger that met
another on the highway would be encountered
with blows, execrations, and reproaches; and he
who met his neighbor unawares in the recesses of
a forest, would receive a dagger in his breast be-
fore he was aware of his danger. Words would
be exchanged between man and man that would
cut each other's hearts " like the piercings of a
sword," and horrible contentions, accompanied
with rage and fury, and wounds and bruises
would be presented to the view in every city, and
village, and rural scene. When one had finished
a house to shelter him from the storm, a numbei
of desperadoes, in horrid combination, would over-
turn the mansion, and crush him among the
ruins. When one had planted vines and fruit-
trees, others would seize the opportunity, when
they were beginning to bud and blossom, to teai
them up by the roots; persons who sowed the seed
in spring could have no confidence that they
would ever reap the fruits in autumn; and^nc
one could have the least security that the^jjlKtb
and property he possessed to-day would hi|iM^ to-
morrow. No one could feel secure fjffltsingle
hour, that his life was not in danger rmia the
sword of the murderer or the assassin; erery man
would live in continual fear and alarm; no pleas-
ing prospects nor hopes of future enjoyment
would ever calm the tumultuous passions, or
cheer the distracted mind; all confidence between
man and man would be completely destroyed;
falsehood in every shape would walk triumphant;
the mind would be distracted amidst its ignorance
of the scenes and events that were happening
around it; for no intelligence could be believed,
and no one could certainly know the reality of
any object or event, unless he beheld it with his
own eyes. Schools, seminaries of learning, uni-
versities, and academies would have no existence,
and no one could gain an acquaintance with any
principle or fact in the universe around him, ex-
cept in so far as he had made the investigation by
means of his own senses and powers. Torment-
ed by tumultuous passions raging within, in con-
tinual alarm from desperadoes, plunderers, and a»»
sassins raging around, looking back on the part
with horrible recollections, and contemplating tlja
future with terror and dismay, the mind would feel
it.'^elf fixed in a scene of misery and wretched-
ness, which no words could describe nor pencil
delineate.

If we could suppose a number of such beings
leagued together for the purpose of carrj'ing th«.

EFl'ECTS OF MALEVOLENCE.

43

schemes of malevolence more completely into
effect, one of their employments would he to set
fire to houses and villuges, in order that they
might enjoy the infernul pleasure of seeing their
fellow-creatures deprived of evory shelter, and of
beholding men, women, and children roasting in
the flames. Another employment would he to
poison the springs of water, that they njiglit he-
iiold one after another, from the sucking child to
the hoary head, seized with excruciating pains,
and sinking into the agonies of death. Another
gratification of malevolence would he to dam up
the rivers in their rapid course, that they might
overflow the circumjacent plains, in order that
they might feast their eyes on the scenes of de-
vastation and ruin that would thus he created,
and on the terror and destruction of the wretched
inhabitants. The conflagration of a city, with all
its accompaniments, the crash of falling houses,
and of palaces tumbling into ruin; the terror and
confusion of its inhabitants, the wailings of wo-
men and children, and the groans of the burning
victims, would be a feast to the eyes and music to
the ears of such malignant beings, as they once
were to Nero, when, from the top of a high
tower, he belield Rome wrapt in the flames which
he himself had kindled, and sung on his lyre the
desti-uction of Troy. Even in the midst of the
ocean such revolting scenes would be frequently
realized. Wlien two ships descried each other,
a diabolical onset would ensue. To set on flames
the respective vessels, to sink them in the deep,
or to cause them to burst with a horrid explosion,
would be tlie object of both the crews; that they
might feast thei^ malevolence on the spectacle of
wounds and carnage, of drowning wretches cover-
ed with blood and scars, fighting with the billows,
and scrambling for safety among the shattered
fragments of the wreck.

Were it possible that discoveries in art and
science could be made by intelligences actuated
by such malignant passions, they would be all
applied to subserve the purposes of malevolence.
The force of gunpowder would be employed to
blow ships and houses to atoms, to shaike popu-
lous cities to their foundations, and to create
among their inhabitants universal horror and
alarm; the force of steam would be employed in
producing destructive explosions, and in propel-
ling the instruments of death and devastation
among a surrounding populace. Air balloons
would be employed for enabling them to carry
their malignant schemes, in relation to distant
tribes, more speedily into effect; for hurling down
upon towns and villages stones, and bullets, and
darts; and for enabling them to escape in safety
when they had finished the work of destruction.
The discovery of the nature of lightning, and its
identity to the electrical fluid, instead of being
applied for the protection of persons and of build-
ings from the stroke of that terrific meteor, would
be destined to the purpose of devastation and de-
struction. The electricity of the atmosphere and
the lightnings from the clouds would be conduct-
ed and directed so as to set on fire stacks of corn,
to shatter lofty buildings, and lay groups of men
and cattle prostrate with the dust. Every me-
chanical pjwer, and all the combinations of phy-
sical forces which art can produce, would be
applied to the framing of engines for torture,
devastation, and massacre; and on the front of
every new invention would be displayed, as if
engraved in legible characters — terkor, misery,

AND DESTRUCTION'.

Could we suppose for a moment such beings
occasionally combining together on a largo scale,

for the purpose of more extensively glutting their
malevolence, their conduct toward each other as
nations, and the contests in wliich they would bo
engaged in this capacity, would be tremendous
and horrible beyond the power of description
Every malevolent affection would be brought into
action; every infernal passion would be raised to
its highest pitch of fury; every one, stimulat-id
by his associates, would breathe nothing but re-
venge, execrations, slaughter, and utter extermi-
nation against opposing armies; every engine of
human destruction which ingenuity could in-
vent would be brought into the scene of action;
the yell of demons would accompany the fierce
and sanguinaiy onset; and a scene of horror
would ensue beyond the power ri imagination to
conceive, which would not terminate until the
one class of combatants had exterminated the
other; until they had trampled down and destroy-
ed the fruits of their ground, and turned their land
into a wilderness; until they had burned their vil-
lages to ashes, and tumbled their cities into a
heap of ruins; until they had drenched their fields
with blood, and strewed them with skulls, and
limbs, and the mangled carcasses of thousands and
ten thousands of men, women, and children,
thrown together in horrible confusion. But it is
needless to dwell on such scenes; since the history
of all nations — since even the history of modern
Europe — presents us with spectacles of horror,
scarcely inferior to those I have now described,
and with n^oral agents who bear too striking a
resemblance to those whose actions are complete-
ly subversive of the second commandment of the
law, " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself."

Such, then, would be some of the dreadful
effects which would flow from a subversion of
the second principle of the moral law, if we
could suppose that organical intelligences, not en-
(lowed with vnmortal bodies, could exist for any
length of time amidst such scenes of depravity
and wretchedness. But it is more than probable
that such a state of society could not long subsist
in such a world as we now inhabit, and among
rational beings, whose corporeal organization is
constructed after the model of the human frame.
The whole mass of society in every land would
soon be transformed into one boundless scene of
anarchy and confusion; every one would flee from
his neighbor as from an infernal fiend; a war of
universal extermination would commence ; no-
thing would be beheld over all the regions of the
globe but spectacles of rapine, devastation, and
destruction; and nothing would be heard among
all the eight hundred millions of its inhabitants
but the voice of execration, and the yells of la-
mentation, and mourning, and woe, until at length
every beauty which now adorns the face of nature
would be effaced, every fertile field transformed
into a desert, every human habitation overturned,
and every inhabitant of the earth sunk into obli-
vion.* This is one of the most terrible repre-
sentations we can form of the horrors of the fu-
ture state of punishment, where malevolent pas-

* Whether snch scenes as some of them now described
may he realized in the future state of punishment, or whe-
ther the principles of the moral law will be entirely subvert-
ed among the miserable beings who are subjected to that
piinishnient, it becomes not us positively to determine. Bd(
we can scarcely conceive a more horrible idea than that of
intelligent beings acting uniformly from princijdes of para
malevolence, and at the same time endowed with immortai
bodice, capable of sensations similar to tliose we now feeL
In lliis case, every accumulated wound received from malig-
nant associates wonld be an additional source of pain and
miser)-, which would continually increase, without any pro*,
pect of relief from the stroke of death.

44

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

Bions rage without control; and the considerations
now stated demonstrate, that the man who is ac-
tuated hy a principle of hostility toward his
neighbor, is training and preparing himself for
becoming an inhabitant of that miserable and
dreary region, " where the worm dieth not, and
tlie fire" of malevolence and revenge "is never
quenched." We are thus instructed, that if there
be a future state at all, it must, fi-om the very na-
ture and constitution of things, be a state of mi-
sery and horror to every man whose mind is
under the unrestrained dominion of depraved af-
fections and malignant passions; so tliat there is
no possibility, in such a case, of escaping the
" wrath to come," unless the moral constitution
of the intelligent universe were entirely sub-
verted.

If, then, it appears that such dismal conse-
quences would flow from the subversion of this
principle or law, it is obvious that the law itself
must be "holy, just, and good," and calculated to
promote the perfection and happiness of all created
intelligences, among whom it is found in full ope-
ration. And in a world such as ours, where this
law is partially violated, ths consequent misery
wliich is suffered will be nearly in proportion to
the extent to which this violation is carried, and
to the number of individuals who are actuated by
a principle of opposition to its requirements.

In like manner, it might be shown, that the
most dismal effects would be produced, were the
first principle of the moral law reversed, and the
malevolence of intelligent beings directed toward
their Creator. In this case, instead of assembled
multitudes joining in solemn adorations of the
divine character and perfections, the God of hea-
ven would be blasphemed, and his name abhorred
in every land. Instead of reverence and profound
humility in the presence of Jehovali, a spirit of
pride and independence, and an impatience of
control, would pervade every mind. Instead of
thanksgivings for the bounties of his providence,
the basest ingratitude would be manifested, and
the most marked contempt of all his favors. In-
stead of cordial submission to his wise arrange-
ments, nothing but murmuriugs and repinings
would be heard, and the most presumptuous deci-
sions uttered against all the dispensations of his
providence. Instead of complacency and delight
in his character and operations, insults and re-
proaches would burst forth at every display of his
wisdom, justice, and omnipotence. Instead of
admiration of the beauty and grandeur of his
wonderful works in heaven and earth, feelings of
contempt and disdain would be mingled with all
their surveys of the operations of nature. His
omnipotence would be disregarded, his benevo-
lence called in question or despised, and his wis-
dom and intelligence arraigned. Like Alphonso,
king of Castile, they would not hesitate to affirm,
" If we had b?en of God's privy council when he
made the world, we would have advised him bet-
ter." Under the influence of such diabolical dis-
positions, the harmony of the visible creation
would be attempted to be deranged, and its beau-
ties defaced, in so far as their limited powers
would be able to effect. The fields would be strip-
ped of their verdure; the forests would be torn up
by the roots, and strewed in shapeless masses
along the plains ; the vegetable beauties which
now diversify the rural landscape would be ef-
faced ; the rivers would be turned out of their
courses to overflow the adjacent plains, and to
transform them into stagnant marshes and stand-
ing pools; tlie air would be impregnated with
pestilential vapors; and the grand, and beautiful,

and picturesque scenes of nature would be strip-
ped of their glory, leaving nothing but naked
rocks and barren deserts, covered with the wrecks
of nature, to mark the operations of malevolenco.

Such would be the dispositions and tiie conduct
of intelligent beings were the first principle of the
moral law reversed, and their actions regulated by
a principle of malevolence; and such, in a greater
or less degree, are the dispositions of every man
in whose heart the love of God has never taken up
its residence. Revolting as the scenes now sup-
posed must appear to every mind possessed of mo-
ral feeling, they must be admitted to be the neces-
sary results of malignant passions raging without
control. And if there be any region of creation
in which pure malevolence actuates its inhabi-
tants, we must suppose the restraining influence
of the Almighty interposed, to preserve their ma-
lignant operations within those bounds which are
consistent with the plans of his moral govern-
ment and the general happiness of the intelligent
universe. That principles and practices have ex-
isted among mankind, which, if left to operate
without restraint, would produce all the effects
now supposed, appears from the description which
the apostle Paul gives of the character of the Gen-
tile world, and even of that portion of it which
had been brought into a civilized state. He de-
clares that "they did not like to retain God in
their knowledge, but changed the glory of the in-
corruptible God into an image made like to
corruptible man, and to birds, and four-footed
beasts, and creeping things," that they were "fill-
ed with all unrighteousness, fornication, wicked-
ness, covetousness, jnaUciousness ;" that they
were "full of envy, murder, deceit, malignity,
backbiters, Jtaters of God, despiteful, proud, boast-
ers, inventors of evil things, disobedient to pa-
rents; without understanding, without natural af-
fection, implacable, unmerciful. Who, knowing
the judgment of God, that they who commit such
things are worthy of death, not only do the same,
but have pleasure in them that do them." Were
practices and passions of this description, which
are all directly opposed to the principle of benevo-
lence, to operate without control, the universe
would soon be transformed into a boundless scene
of devastation and sterility, of misery and horror,
of lamentation and woe.

Turning our eyes from such revolting scenes,
I shall now direct the -attention of ray readers to
a more pleasing picture, and endeavor to delineate
some of the happy effects which would naturally
result from a complete conformity in thought and
action to the principles of the divine law.

SECTION V.
Effects which would flow from thk full opk-

RATION of the PRINCIPLE OF LOVE ToGOD AND TO
HAN.

Were this divine principle in full operation
amono- the intelligences that people our globe, thif
world would be transformed into a paradise, the
moral desert would be changed into a fruitful
field, and "blossom as the rose," and Eden would
again appear in all its beauty and delight. Fraud,
deceit, and artifice, with all their concomitant
train of evils, would no longer walk rampant in
every land. Prosecutions, lawsuits, and all the
innumerable vexatious litigations which now dis-
turb the peace of society, would cease from
among men. Every debt would be punctually

EFFECTS OF BENEVOLENCE.

45

paid; every commodity sold at its just value;
every article of merchaudise exhibited in its true
character ; every promise faitlifuUy performed ;
every dispute amicably adjusted ; every man's
character held in estimation ; every rogue and
cheat banished from society; and every jail,
bridewell, and house of correction, would either
be swept away, or transformed into the abodes
of honesty, industry, and peace. Injustice and
oppression would no longer walk triumphant
through the world, while the poor, the widow,
and the fatherless were groaning under the iron
rod of those who had deprived them of every
comfort. No longer would the ca])tive be cliain-
ed to a dungeon, and doomed to count, in sorrow
and solitude, the many long days and years he
has been banished from the light of day and the
society of his dearest friends. No longer siiould
we see a hard-hearted creditor doom a poor unfor-
tunate man for the sake of a few shillings or pounds,
to rot in a jail, while his family, deprived of his in-
dustry, were pining away in wretchedness and want.
No longer should we hear the harsh creaking of
iron doors, ponderous bolts, and the clanking of the
chains of criminals; nor the sighs and groans of
the poor slave, fainting under the lash, and the
reproaches of a cruel master. The bands of the
oppressed would be loosed, the captives would
be set at liberty, the iron fetters would be
burst asunder, and a universal jubilee proclaimed
throughout every land. The haunts of riot and
debauchery would be forsaken, and their inmates
hissed from the abodes of men. The victims of
seduction vrould no longer crowd our streets at
tlie dead hour of night, to entice the "simple
ones" into the paths of vice and destruction; but
purity, righteousness, and peace would "run
down our streets like a river," distributing safetj',
happiness, and repose.

The tongue of the slanderer and the whisper-
ings of the backbiter would no longer be lieard in
their malicious attempts to sow tiie seeds of dis-
cord and contention among brethren. Falsehood
in all its ramifications, with the numerous train
of evils it now produces, would be banished from
tlie intercourses of society; nor would treachery
prove the ruin of families and societies, and inter-
rupt the harmony of the commercial and the mo-
ral world. No longer should we hear of the em-
bezzling of property by unfaithful servants, nor
the blasted hopes, the cruel disappointments, and
the ruin of credit and of reputation now produced
by the votaries of falsehood. " The lips of trutli
would be estublished forever," and the liar and
deceiver would be hissed to the shades of hell.
Our property would remain sacred and secure
from the thief and the midnight robber, and our
persons from the attacks of the murderer and the
assassin. We should no longer hesitate to prose-
cute our journeys by day or by night for fear of
the foot-pad or the highwayman, but should re-
cognize every passenger as a friend and protector.
Plunder and devastation would cease from the
earth; "violence would no more be heard in our
land; nor wasting nor destruction in all our bor-
ders." Execrations and malicious insults would
never harrow up the feelings of our fellow-men,
nor would a single instance of revenge be heard
of among all the inhabitants of tlie earth.

Pride, which now stalks about with stately
Bteps and lofty looks, surveying surrounding in-
telligences with feelings of contempt, would be
forever banished from the world. Ambition would
no longer wade through slaugiiter to a throne, nor
trample on the rights of an injured people. Wars
•"ould cease to the ends of the earth, and the

instruments of human destruction w;iuld be
beaten into plowshares and pruning-hooks. That
scourge which has drenched the earth with hu-
man gore — which has convulsed every nation
under heaven — which has produced tenfold more
misery than all the destructive elements of nature,
and which has swept from existence so many mil-
lions of mankind — would be regarded as tlie eter-
nal disgrace of the human character, and the most
shocking display of depravity in the annals of our
race. No longer should we hear "the sound of
the trumpet and the alavm of war," the confused
noise of " the horseman and the bowman," and
of the mighty armies encamping around " the city
of the innocent," to hurl against its walls the in-
struments of destruction. No longer should wo
behold the fires blazing on the mountain tops, to
spread the alarm of invading armies; nor the city,
which was once full of inhabitants, " sitting soli-
tary," without a voice being heard within its
dwellings but the sighs of the disconsolate and
the groans of the dying. Human wolves thirsting
for the blood of nations, would cease to prowl
among men. Nation would not lift up sword
against nation, neither would they learn war any
more. The instruments of cruelty, the stake, the
rack, the knout, and the lash, would no longer
lacerate and torture the wretched culprit ; can-
nons, and guns, and swords, and darts would be
forged no more; but the influence of reason and
afTection would preserve order and harmony
throughout every department of society. The
traveler, when landing on distant shores, and on
the islands of the ocean, would no longer be as-
sailed with stones, spears, arrows and other in-
struments of death, and be obliged to flee from
the haunts of his own species, to take refuge in
the lion's den, or on the bosom of the deep; but
would be welcomed as a friend and a messenger
of peace. The animosities which now prevail
among religious bodies would cease ; the nick-
names by which the different sects of religion-
ists have been distinguished, would be erased
from the vocabulary of every language ; Chris-
tians would feel ashamed of those jealousies and
evil surniisings which they have so long mani-
fested toward each other, and an affectionate
and harmonious intercourse would be established
among all the churches of the saints.

'These, and a thousand other evils, which now
render this world a vast wilderness of perturba-
tion, wretchedness, and sorrow, would be com-
pletely eradicated, were the principle of holy love
in incessant operation; and in their place a scene
of loveliness and moral beauty would burst upon
the view, which would diffuse joy and ecstatic
delight through every bosom.

Every family would become a mansion of peace
and love — a temple consecrated to the God of hea-
ven, from which the incense of prayer, and praise,
and pious aspirations, would daily ascend in sweet
memorial to the throne above. Domestic broils
and contentions would cease; brothers and sisters
would be cemented in the closest bonus of holy
affection; tli^ law of kindness would swell their
hearts and dwell upon their tongues; serenity and
joy, and a desire to please, would appear on every
countenance; a mutual exchange of sentiment
and generous affections would circulate joy from
father to son, and from children to parents; and
all the members of the family circle, animated by
the same benevolent spirit, would "dwell together
in unity." To communicate useful knowledge,
to train each other to piety and virtue, to point
out the different spheres in which benevolence
should act, to assist in every kindly office, to

46

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

eoothe eacli other in distress, and to direct each
ether in the path to an endless life, would be the
unceasing desire and endeavor of every inmate of
the family mansion. From every such mansion the
radiations of love would fly from family to family,
from one hamlet and village to another, from one
town and city to another, from one nation to an-
other, and from one continent to another, until all
the families of the earth were converted into "the
dwellings of the God of Jacob."

In larger communities the principle of love
would effectuate a mighty change. That spirit
of jealousy and selfishness, of avarice and mono-
poly, which now produces so many jarrings, con-
tentions, and collisions of interests among town
councils, corporations, and otlier smaller associa-
tions, would cease to operate. Every one would
see and feel, that the prosperity of the whole is
also the prosperity of every portion of the gene-
ral community. Boisterous disputations, sneers,
hisses, reproaches, and angry passions, would be
banished from the deliberations of every society;
and candor, good-will, and kindly affections would
animate the minds of all its members. Righteous
laws would be enacted, and distributive justice
equitably administered. Every nation would
form one great and harmonious family ; all its
members being linked together by the ties of
kindness and reciprocal aff'ection. Its magistrates
would become " nursing fathers" to the whole
body of the people, to promote their peace, their
domestic comfort, their knowledge, and their
general improvement; and throughout all ranks
of the community nothing would appear but sub-
mission, obedience, reverence, and respect.

The mutual intercourse of nations would be
established on the principles of friendship and af-
fection, and on the basis of immutable justice and
eternal truth. Raised above petty jealousies, se-
cure from the alarms of war, and viewing each
other as branches of the same great family, and as
children of the same Almighty Parent, — every
nation and empire would feel an interest in pro-
moting the prosperity of another, and would re-
joice in beholding its happiness and improvement.
Commerce would be free and unshackled, and the
productions of nature and of art would quickly be
transported into every nation from every clime.
Travelers and navigators would visit foreign
shores without danger or alarm from insidious or
hostile tribes, and would land on the most obscure
island of the ocean, fully assured of protection
and comfort, and the welcome of friendship anu
affection. Every vessel that plowed the deep
would become a floating temple, from which in-
cense and a pure offering would daily ascend to
the Ruler of the skies, and its mariners would
join, with one heart and one mind, in imploring
upon each other the blessing and protection of the
God of heaven. The beams of love and aff'ection
would gladden every land, and add a new luster to
the natur■^l beauties of its landscape. The inhabi-
tants of China and Japan would be hailed as bene-
factors when they arrived on our coasts with their
cargoes of tea, sugar, silk, and porcejain; and the
nativ'es of France and Great Britain, when they
transported their manufactures to these distant
empires, would be welcomed as friends, and con-
ducted, without the least jealousy or suspicion,
through all their cities and rural scenes, to survey
the beauties of nature and art with which those
countries are adorned. Til's natives of Papua and
New Zealand would land on our shores without
spears, or darts, or other hostile weapons, and be
recojnized as friends and brethren: and our coun-
trymen, when traversing the different regions of

the globe, would always meet with a cordial re-
ception when landing on the'r coasts. For na-
tional jealousies and antipatlres would cease; and
instead of selfish and revengeful passions, reasoa
would be cultivated, and its powers expanded; the
■smile of benevolence and the hand of beneficence
would gladden the inhabitants of every clime, and
"righteousness and praise would spring forth bo-
fore all the nations."

Under the benignant influence of the spirit of
love, useful intelligence of every description
would be rapidly and extensively communicated;
the sciences v'ould be improved, and carried for-
ward to perfection; the jealousies which now exist i
among scientific men would cease to operate, and '
every fact on which science is built would be im-
partially investigated, and exhibited in its true as-
pect; the arts would flourish, and be carried to the
highest pitch of improvement; no secrets in arts
or trades would be locked up in the breast of the
discoverer; but every useful hint would at once
be communicated to the public; every invention
would uniformly be applied to the promotion of a
benevolent object, and the arts of destruction
would cease to be cultivated, and be held in uni-
versal detestation. Under the hand of art, the ha-
bitations of men would be beautified and adorned,
to correspond with the purity and improvement
of their moral feelings, and a new luster would
be thrown over the face of nature. Towns and
villages would be built on spacious plans, divested
of all that gloom and filth which now disgrace the
abodes of millions of human beings, and which
form an emblem of their physical and moral
wretchedness; and the landscape of every country
would present a scene of grandeur, fertility, and
picturesque beauty. Those immense treasures
which have been so long expended in the arts of
war and devastation would be employed in turn-
ing immense deserts into fruitful fields, in beauti-
fying the aspect of rural nature, in planting or-
chards and vineyards, in forming spacious roads,
in establishing seminaries of instruction, in erect-
ing comfortable habitations for the lower orders
of society, and promoting their domestic enjoy-
ment. What an immense variety of objects of
this description would be accomplished within the
limits of Great Britain by means of a thousand
millions of pounds, which we all know have been
lately expended within the space of twenty-four
years, in carrying forward the work of destruc-
tion!

Under the influence of the reign of love, the
instruction of all ranks, in every department of
useful knowledge, would be rapidly promoted;
ignorance and error, with all their attendant
evils, would soon evanish from the minds even of
the lowest orders of society; seminaries would
be erected and established on a liberal basis, for
instructing every class of mankind in all those
branches of science which tend to expand the
capacity of the human mind, and to extend the
range of its contemplations; the hours of active
labor would be abridged, in order that they
might have leisure for the cultivation of their
understanding and the exercise of their morat
powers. To add to their stock of knowledge,
and to increase the sum of happiness around
tliem, would be considered as interesting and aa
delightful as it now is to the sons of Mammon to
" add house to house, and field to field," and ta
riot on the gains of avarice. Societies would be
formed for mutual improvement in knowledge
and virtue; lectures delivered on every interest-
iug and useful subject; experiments performed to
illustrate the order and mechanism of nature; and

EFFECTS OF BENEVOLENCE.

47

Instruments of every description procured for
exliibiting' the wisdom and omnipotence of the
Ci'eator tuid th? glories of the universe. The re-
velution of heaven would be studied with intelli-
gence in all its aspects and bearings, and every
passion, atlection, and active exertion would be
directed by its moral requisitions. The human
mind, thus trained and carried forward in wisdom
and holiness, would shed a moral radiance around
it, and be gradually prepared for entering on a
higher scene of contemplation and enjoyment.

Among al ranks of men, a spirit of selfishness
and avarice would be extinguished, and in its
stead a spirit of noble generosity and beneficence
would pervade the whole mass of society. Tliat
divine maxim inculcated by our Saviour, " It is
more blessed to give than to receive" would be en-
graven on every heart, and appear in every action.
This sublime principle forms a prominent trait in
the character of God, and in all his arrangements
toward his creatures; and it animates tlie minds
of superior intelligences in their associations with
each other, and in their occasional intercourses
with the inhabitants of our world. In imitation
of these glorious beings, the human race would
consider it as the grand end of their existence,
not merely to acquire wealth, knowledge, or
power, but to employ themselves iu the unceasii\g
diffusion of beneficence to all around. To com-
municate happiness throughout all the ranks of
their fellow-men with whom they mingle, to
soothe the disconsolate and the desponding, to re-
lieve the distressed, to instruct the ignorant, to
expand the intellect, to animate and direct the
benevolent affections, to increase the enjoyments
of the lower orders of the community, to direct
the opening minds of the young, to lead them by
•|entle steps into the paths of wisdom and holi-
ness, and to promote every scheme which has a
relatiin to the public good, would form the con-
Btant aim of all conditions of men, from the high-
9st to the lowest. Every house would be open to
the weary and benighted traveler, every heart
?rould welcome him to the refreshments and re-
pose- it afforded, every countenance would beam
benignity, every comfort would be atlbrded, every
ivish anticipated, and every stranger thus enter-
tained would " bless the mansion," and implore
Ihe b>^netiiction of heaven on all its inmates. The
houseless child of want would no longer wander
imidst scenes of plenty, tattered and forlorn,
pinched with poverty, exposed to the piercing
Slasts, and obliged to repose under the open
3anopy of heaven, for want of more comfortable
shelter; the poor would soon cease out of the land,
every one would be active and industrious, and
every one would enjoy a comfortable portion of
the bounties of Providence. And what a happy
world would it be were kindness and affection the
characteristic of all its inhabitants! The face of
nature would wear a more cheering aspect, " tlie
desert would rejoice and blossom as the rose,"
the fliowers would look more gay, the " little hills "
would be encircled with joy, the light of heaven
would appear more glorious and transporting, a
thousand delightful emotions would spring up in
the mind amidst every rural scene, and every so-
cial intercourse would be a source of unmingled
bliss. Paradise would be restored, heaven would
descend to earth, and an emblem would be pre-
sented of the joys of the blessed above.

O blissful and auspicious era! When wilt
thou arrive to still the restless agitation of ma-
lignant passions, to promote peace on earth and
good will among men? When will the benevo-
enca of angels and archangels descend to dwell

with man upon earth, to expel selfishness from
the human breast, to hush every disordered affec-
tion, and to restore tranquillity and order among
the bewildered race of Adam? When will the
spirit of love, in all its beneficent energies, de-
scend from the Father of light to arrest the con-
vulsions of nations, to heal the wounds of suffer-
ing humanity, to transform fields of slaughter into
regions of tranquillity, to soften the ferocious
tempers of "the people who delight in war," to
unite in one holy and harmonious society men
of every language and of every tribe? Not until
Christianity shall have shed its benign influence
on every land; not until "the knowledge of the
Lord shall cover the earth," and the cannons, and
swords, and spears, and battle-axes of the warrior
shall be broken to shivers, and forged into plow-
shares and pruning-hooks. " Then shall the
wolf dwell with the lamb, and tiie leopard shall
lie down with the kid, and the calf, and the young
lion, and the fading together, and a little child
shall lead them." " Then judgment shall dwell
in the wilderness, and righteousness in the fruit-
ful field. And the work of righteousness shall
be peace, and the effect of righteousness, quiet-
ness and assurance forever. And all people shall
dwell in peaceable habitations, and in sure dwell-
ings, and in quiet resting-places."

In fine, under the reign of love, most of the
evils, both pliysical and moral, under which men
are now doomed to suffer, would be either greatly
mitigated or completely abolished. It is scarcely
too much to affirm, that nine-tenths of all the
evils that affect humanity are the result of the
malice and uukindness of mankind toward eack
other. If all the sorrow and wretchedness pro-
duced by fraud, falsehoo:!, avarice, extortion, in-
justice, oppression, perjury, seduction, treachery,
litigations, slander, pride, ambition, revenge, rob-
bery, murder^ plunder, and devastation, were ex-
tirpated, little would remain beside the incidental
evils which occasionally flow from the elements
of nattire. And even these would be greatly mi-
tigated by the benevolent operations of art, direct-
ed by the discoveries of science. By clearing the
surface of the globe of immense forests, by drain-
ing stagnant marshes, and by the universal culti-
vation and improvement of the soil, the seasons
would be meliorated, and storms and tempests
would be deprived of their wonted violence and
fury; and the partial physical evils which still re-
mained would be almost annihilated to the suf-
ferer, by the sympathy, and tenderness, and the
kind and fostering hand of universiil benevolence.
Where virtue, temperance, serenity of mind,
and social joy reigned triumphant, and where
none of the ghastly phantoms of skepticism and
superstition haunted the mind, disease woidd sel-
dom invade the human frame; the span of mortal
existence would be extended; death would become
calm and tranquil, and every one would "come
to his grave, like as a shock of corn cometh in his
season." In short, under the influence of the
emanations of love, malignity would be trans-
formed into benevolence, vice into virtue, oppres-
sion into justice, cruelty into sympathy and ten-
derness, selfishness into beneficence, contention
into unity and friendship, fraud into honesty, ava-
rice into generosity, pride into humility, wretched-
ness into comfort, sorrow into joy, war into peace,
and this spacious globe, now the receptacle of
misery and vice, would be transformed into the
temple of concord, happiness, and peace.

Such are some of the beneficial effects which
would be experienced in the social state of the
human race, were a principle of benevolence to

48

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

pervade the miuds of mankind. The immense
mass of moral evils, under which the earth now
groans, would he removed; the moral aspect of
Bocisty, in every nation, would assume a new
luster of loveliness and excellence; and nature
herself wou^d be arrayed in new robes of grace-
fulness and beauty. For it would be easy to
show, were it at all necessary, that every parti-
cular now stated, and a tiiousand similar effects,
would be the natural and necessary results oilove,
when it becomes the mainspring of human actions.

I shall now shortly trace some of the effects of
love, considered as directed more immediately to-
ward God.

Supreme love to God would excite compla-
cency in his character and perfections; and piety,
in all its fervent and delightful emotions, would
naturally flow upward to the fountain of all
purity. His glorious character would be vene-
rated, and his name revered over all the earth;
trophies would be erected to liis honor, and tem-
ples consecrated to his worship in every land.
Crowds of worshipers, beaming benignity and
devotion, would be held in every region, converg-
ing toward the "dwelling-place" of the Most
High, and encouraging one another in such lan-
guage as this: " Come ye and let us go up to the
mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of
Jacob, and he will teach us of his ways, and we
will walk in his paths." With enlightened views
of the attributes of Jehovah, with glowing affec-
tions, and with profound reverence, would they
join in the sublime exercises of the sanctuary,
and listen to the intimations of his will. All
voices would be tuned to melodious strains, and
the solemn organ, and those instruments of music
which are now devoted to the gratification of the
sons of fashionable folly and dissipation, would
harmonize in exciting devotional affecfions, and
in swelling the song of salvation "to Ilim who
sits upon the throne, and to the Lamb who hath
redeemed us to God bj^ his blood." Every land-
scape, in every point of view, would present a
noble edifice devoted to the worship of the God of
heaven, adorned with every majestic decoration
suitable to its sanctity, and rearing its spacious
dome above all the surrounding habitations of
men. Its gates "would be open continually; they
would not be shut day nor night," that men might
have access at all seasons to bring "incense and
a pure offering" to the shrine of Jehovah. The
whole earth would soon be converted into one
universal temple, sacred to the God and Father
of our Lord Jesus Christ, from which, thanksgiv-
ing, and the voice of melody, and the holy aspira-
tions of gratitude and love, would ascend to heav-
en without intermission, and in every direction,
from the regions of the north to the regions of the
south, and " from the rising of the sun to the go-
ing down of the same." Solemn seasons would
be appointed, and spacious plains consecrated for
the assembling of ten thousands of " the sons of
God," not for carnage and devastation, as when
the warrior " mustereth the armies to the battle,"
but " to rehearse the mighty acts of the Lord,"
to exchange sentiments and feelings of affectionate
regard, and to swell the song of triumph over sin
and misery, with the harmony of human voices
and musical instruments, in one loud chorus to
the skies. Then the name of Jehovah would be
One throughout all the earth. " All his works
would praise him, and his saints would bless him.
They would abundantly utter the memory of his
great goodness, they would speak of the glori-
ous honor of his majesty, and sing of his right-
eousness."

Among all ranks of men cordial submission td
the will of God, and contentment under the an-
raugements of his providence would be uniformly
manifested. Every one would consider the situa-
tion in wiiich Providence had placed him as th*
best possible for promoting his present improve-
ment and his future felicity, viewing it as the
allotment of infinite wisdom and benevolence.
In adversity he would sustain his afflictions with
patience, and derive from them " the peaceable
fruits of righteousness." In prosperity he would
acknowledge God as the source of all his enjoy-
ments, and devote the wealth and influence ho
possessed to the pronmtion of religion, and tha
best interests of his fellow-men. By day, and by
night, and at every returning season, the over-
flowings of gratitude, in every heart, would burst
forth in songs of thanksgiving to the Giver of all
good. Every comfort would be recognized aa
"coming down from the Father of lights," and
every pleasing sensation produced by the scenery
of nature, as the result of his wisdom and benefi-
cence. His wonderful works, which are novr
overlooked, or gazed at with apathy by nine-tenths
of the inhabitants of the globe, would be contem-
plated with enlightened understandings, and with
emotions of reverence, admiration, and delight
The majestic movements of the planetary orbs,
tlie glories of the starry sky, the light beaming
from a thousand suns through the immeasurable
voids of space, the mighty ocean with all its won-
ders, the numerous rivers rolling into its abyss,
the lofty ranges of mountains which encircle ths
earth, the treasures of the fields, the riches of tho
mines, the beauties which adorn the hills and
plains, the wonders of the atmosphere, the admi-
rable structure and economy of the numeroua
tribes of animated beings, — these, and thousands
of other objects, considered as manifestations of
the attributes of Deity, would supply topics of
conversation in every social circle, on which every
heart would dwell with increasing delight. "They
would speak of the glory of his kingdom, and talk
of his power, to make known to the sons of men
his mighty acts, and the glorious majesty of hia
kingdom." The work of human redem|)tion, in
its origin and progress, in its connections and
bearings, in the luster it reflects on the perfections
of the Deity, in its relation to the angelic tribes,
and in its glorious and happy consequences on
thousands of millions of human beings through-
out an eternal round of existence — the person of
the Redeemer, his amiable character, his grace
and condescension, and the glories of his exalted
state — the joys of departed saints, the general
resurrection, with all its solemn and transporting
scenes, the new heavens and the new earth, and
the boundless scene of grandeur and felicity which
will open to the view when death shall be swal-
lowed up in victory, and all things subjected to
the moral order of the universe, would afford sub-
jects of sublime contemplation, and themes foi
social converse, on which enlightened and reno-
vated minds would expatiate with ever-growing
improvement and ever-growing pleasures.

The providential dispensations of God toward
the human race, would form another subject of
investigation, which would be prosecuted with
feelings of astonishment, admiration, and reve-
rence. The history of all nations would be care-
fully perused — not for the purpose of admiring
the exploits of mighty conquerors and barbaroua
heroes, and feasting the imagination on spectacles
of human slaughter and devastation — but foj
exciting abhorrence of those depraved passions
which had drenched the earth with blood — far

EFFECTS OF BENEVOLENCE.

49

drawing forth the tear of pity over the graves of
slaughtered nations — for stimulating the exercise
of those holy affections which restored peace and
tranquillity to the world — for ac(iuiriiig a display
of the rectitude of the moral character of God,
and the equity of his administration among the
nations — for tracing the accomplishment of divine
predictions — for illustrating the long-suffering and
'>>rbearance of God, and for exciting admiration
of tliat inscrutable wisdom by which the whole
train of events was conducted, so as to set re-
Btraining bounds to the wrath of man, and to
make it subservient to the introduction of the
reign of happiness and peace. In all the revolu-
tions of past ages, and in all the events that daily
passed in review before them, they would uni-
formly recognize the agency and the purposes of
that Almighty Being "who doth according to his
will in the armies of heaven, and aniong the in-
nabitants of the earth," and who is carrying for-
ward all the plans of his government to a glorious
consummation.

Every useful invention, every new instrument
for investigating the operations of nature, every
new discovery in the earth, or in the heavens,
every exploration of an unknown region of the
globe, every branch of commerce and manufac-
ture, every new mode of facilitating labor and im-
proving the productions of the soil; every im-
provement in the ease and rapidity of traveling,
and of conveying intelligence from one region to
another, and every art and science, would be con-
secrated, in some form or other, to the service of
God, and to the accomplishment of the objects of
general benevolence. One grand diffusive prin-
ciple, manifesting itself in numberless ramifica-
tions, would pervade the whole mass of societj^;
and one grand aim, the honor and glory of the
Cr-3ator, and the universal diffusion of happiness
in every direction, and among every rank of sen-
tient and intelligent beings, would be the unceas-
ing endeavor of men of all nations, and kindreds,
and languages. The whole mass of this world's
inhabitants would appear like one vast celestial
army marching forward in harmony to the regions
of bliss, every one, in his appointed order, passing
in peace and tranquillity through the gates of
death, to join tlie general assembly above, and to
augment and enliven the congregation of the
heavens.

On such a world the God of heaven would look
down with complacency, and his providential care
would be exercised in averting tliose physical evils
which now increase the moral wretchedness of
mankind. His eye would be continually upon
them for good, and his ear would be ever open to
their requests. Then that glorious scene pre-
sented to tlie view of the apostle John, would be
fully realized, — "Behold the tabernacle of God is
with men, and he will dwell with them; and they
shall be his people, and God himself shall be with
tJiem, and be their God. And God shall wipe
away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be
no nlore curse, neither sorrow nor crying, nei-
ther shall there be any more pain; for the former
things have passed away." To such a world
celestial messengers would rejoice to wing their
downward flight, on messages of love. Their
visits, which have been " few, and far between,"
ajid which have been long interrupted by the ma-
levolence of men, would be again resumed; and
those " morning stars" that shouted for joy when
this fair creation arose into existence, would be
filled with unutterable delight when they beheld
moral order restored, and the smiles of universal
love irradiating the inhabitants of our globe, and

would shout even with more ecstatic joy than they
did before, "Glory to God in the highest, peace
on earth, and good will among men!"

Alas! such a picture as that which we have
now faintly sketched, has never yet been realized
in the moral aspect of the injiabitants of this
world. To the eye of an angelic intelligence,
while he hovers over our globe in his flight
through the planetary regions, nothing appears
but a vast cloud of moral darkness and depravity,
with liere and there only a few faint radiations of
truth and love emerging from the general gloom.
He beholds throughout the whole extent of Africa
from the shores of Barbary and Egypt to the Cape
of Good Hope — throughout the vast regions of
Asia and its numerous islands, and throughout
four-filths of the continent of America, little else
than one wide scene of mcral desolation, where
idolatry and superstition, tyranny and ambition,
treachery and cruelty, war and dissension, reign
triumphant among almost ever)' tribe; and where
scarcely a ray of divine light and divine love gilds
the horizon, from the one end of these extensive
regions to the other. Even in Europe, where the
light of science and of revelation is converged to
a focus, what an immense cloud of moral dark-
ness still appears enveloping its population? The
fields of Waterloo, of Leipsic, of Borodino, and
of Smolensko. — wliere so many thousands of hu-
man beings vi'ere sacrificed to the demon of war —
the vales of Switzerland and Hungaiy, the plains
of France and Italy, the anarchy and commotions
of Spain and Portugal, and the ensanguined shores
of Turkey and Greece, where massacres have
been perpetrated with the rage and fury of infer-
nal demons, bear witness to the melancholy fact,
that hatred and malignity still hold the ascen-
dency over the nations of Europe, and over all
the efforts of benevolence and love.

But, we trust, that the period is fast approach-
ing, when the breath of a new spirit shall pervade
the inliabitants of every clime, and when holy
love shall unite all the tribes of mankind in one
harmonious society. When the messengers of
the Prince of Peace "shall run to and fro" from
the north to the south, and from the rising to the
setting sun: when the sound of the gospel-trum-
pet shall re-echo throughout every land; when
the light of divine revelation shall diffuse its ra-
diance on the benighted nations; when its sub-
lime doctrines and moral requisitions shall be fully
understood and recognized in all their practical
bearings, and when the energy of that Almighty
spirit which reduced to light and order the dark
' and shapeless chaos, shall be exerted on the de-
praved and benighted minds of the mass of this
world's population — then the death-like slumber
which has seized upon the race of Adam shall be
broken; the dead in trespasses and sins shall awake
to new life and activity; this bedlam of the uni-
verse will be restored to reason and intellectual
freedom, and to the society of angelic messengers,
and the face of the moral creation will be renewed
after tiie image of its Maker. Then wars shall
cease to the ends of the earth, and anarchy and
dissension shall convulse the nations no more;
violence will no more be heard in any land, " lib-
erty will be proclaimed to the captives, and the
opening of the prison-doors to them that are
bound." The spirit of malevolence will be van-
quished, its power will be broken, and its opeia-
tions demolished. The ord"r and beauty of the
celestial system will be restored. " Holiness to
the Lord " will be inscribed on all the implements
and employments of mankind. Kindness and
compassion will form the amiable charactcristio

50

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

of every rank of social life. Love will spread
her benignant wings over tlie globs, and reigu un-
controli.'d in tiio hearts of all its inhabitants. For
thus saitli the voice of Ilini who sits on the throne
of the universe, " Beiiold I make all tilings new —
I create new heavens and a new eiirth, and the
former shall not be remembered, nor come into
mind. Bo ye glad, and rejoice forever in tiiat
which I create; for behold, I create Jerusalem a
rejoicing, and lier people a joy, and the voice of
weeping shall be no more heard in her, nor the
voice of crying.'

SECTION VL

Univkrsality of the principles of love to God,
and to fellow-intelligences.

The grand principles of morality to which I
have now adverted, are not to be viewed as con-
fined merely to the inhabitants of our globe, but
as extending to all intellectual beings. They
form the basis of the moral laws, which govern
all inte41igences throughout the vast universe, in
whatever world or region of infinite space they
may have their physical residence; and they con-
stitute the bond which unites to the supreme in-
telligence, and to one another, all holy beings,
wherever existing in the wide empire of Omnipo-
tence. This will at once appear, if we reflect for
a moment, on what has been stated in the preced-
ing sections. We have scon, that, if those laws
or principles were reversa ', and were the moral
agents of our world to a , accordingly, nothing
would ensue, but anarchy wretchedness, horror,
and devastation, and ultini '.ely a complete exter-
mination of the race of mankind. And by parity
of reason, it will follow, that were the same prin-
ciples to operate in any other world, however
different the capacities, relations, and physical
circumstances of its inhabitants might be, similar
disastrous effects would be the inevitable result;
and were they to pervade all worlds, disorder and
misery would reign uncontrolled throughout the
whole intelligent system.

When the Creator brought any particular world
into existence, and peopled it with inhabitants, we
must suppose, that the laws to which I am now
adverting, were either formally addressed to them
by some external revelation, or so powerfiijly im-
pressed upon their moral constitution, as to be-
come the mainspring of all their actions, so long
as they might retain the original principles im-
planted in their minds by the Author of their ex-
istence. Any other supposition would be fraught
with the most absurd and horrible consequences.
It would be subversive of every idea we are led
to form of the character of the Divine Being, in-
consistent with the perfect benevolence and recti-
tude of his nature, and incompatible with the
relations in which rational beings stand to Him
and to one another, and with the harmony and
happiness of the universe, to suppose, that any
creatures now exist, or ever can exist, to whom
such commands as these would be given, — " Thou
shalt hate thy Creator, who is the source of thine
existence;" and "Thou shalt hate all thy fellow-
intelligences with whom thou mayest associate."
And if the mind would recoil with horror, at the
idea of such laws issuing forth from the throne
of the Eternal to any class of moral agents, it
must necessarily be admitted, that the opposite
principles or laws, to which I allude, are promul-
gated to all intelligences, and are obligatory on

every inhabitant of all the worlds which lie be-
tween the range of Jehovah's empire. The na*
tural scenery with which the inhabitants of other
worlds arc surrounded, the organization of their
corporeal frames, the intellectual capacities with
which they are endowed, the stated employmcnta
in which they engage, and the relations in' which
they stand to each other, may be verj^ different
from t'lose which obtain in our terrestrial sphere;
but the grand principles to which I refer, must
necessarily pervade every faculty of tlieir minds,
CA^cry active exertion, and every relation tliat sub-
sists among them, by whatever character it may
be distinguished, if they be found existing in a
state of happiness.

The moral code of laws in other worlds may
be somewhat differently modified from ours, ac-
cording to the circumstances in which the inhabi-
tants of each respective world are placed, and the
relations which obtain among them; but the sam*
general principles will run through every ramifi-
cation of their moral precepts, and appear in the
minutest actions they perform, as the sap which
proceeds from the trunk of a tree diffuses itself
among the minutest and the most distant branches.
The seventh commandment of our moral code can
have no place in a world where the inhabitants
" neither marry nor are given in marriage;" v/here
the succession of intelligent beings is not carried
on by any process analogous to human genera-
tion, where death is unknown, and where rational
agents have a fixed and permanent abode. The
jffth precept of our law cannot be recognized in
a world where the relations of parents and chil-
dren, princes and subjects, superiors and inferiors,
have no existence. And in those worlds where
the bounties of Divine Providence are equally en-
joyed by all, or where external comforts are not
necessary for the happiness of the individual, as
in our world, or where the slightest temptation to
interfere with the projjerty of another does nol
exist, there will be no necessity for a distinct
moral regulation corresponding to the eighth com-
mandment of our moral code. — But in every world
where happiness exists, and where the inhabitants
have retained their original integrity, love to God,
and love to all subordinate intelligences with
v.'hich they are connected, will animate every
heart, regulate every desire, and run through
every action. And in those worlds (if any such
exist beside our own) vi'here these principles are
counteracted, or not recognized as the foundation
of moral action, misery and disorder, in a greater
or less degree, must be the inevitable consequence.
The greater part, however, of the precepts, com-
prised in the moral law given to man, must bo
considered as obligatory upon all the rational in-
habitants of the universe. The frst command-
ment, which forbids the recognition of any object
of adoration, or of supreme affection, beside the
eternal Jehovali — the second, which forbids the
representation of this incomprehensible Being by
any visible or material objects — the third, which
enjoins reverence of the name or attributes of
God — and the spirit of the fourth, which enjoins
a certain portion of duration to be set apart for
solemn acts of worship and adoration, are appli-
cable to all the moral agents that Jehovah has
created. The sixth commandment, which forbids
malice, revenge, and injurious actions of every
description — the ninth, which forbids falsehood,
and inculcates truth, which is the basis of the
moral universe — and the tenth, which forbids envy,
and every unhallowed desire to deprive our neigh-
bor of any portion of his happiness — are also
binding upon every class of moral intelligenccEy

UNIVERSALITY OF THE PRINCIPLE OF LOVE.

51

wherever existing, lliroiighout the unlimited em-
pire of God. For, il' we suppo.se any one oi" these
precepts to be reversed, and niorfil agents to act
on the i)rincii)le of tiiis subversion, tlicir moral
order and h:irinony would be iiiterrujited, and
consequeiiily, tlieir happiness destroyed. — For
example, let the law, wiiich inculcates truth, be
•apposed to be universally violated among a;iy
eiass of rational beings, and instantly all improve-
ment in wisdom and knowledge wonld ceas;'; no-
thing could be depended ujjon as fact but what
was obvious to the senses of every individual;
iocial compacts would be dissolved; a mutual re-
pulsion would ensue, and every social affection
and enjoyment wouM be unhinged and destroyed.

By overlooking considerations of this kind, the
celebrated Dr. Chalmers, in his "Discourses on
the Christian Revelation viewed in connection
with Modern Astronomy," deprived himst-lf of an
important argument to prove that Christianity is
not confined to this sublunary region. For, as it
is the great object of the Christian Revelation to
bring into full effect, in all their practical bear-
ings, the principles I have been endeavoring to
illustrate, and as these principles must be inter-
woven with the moral code of all worlds — it fol-
lows, that the spirit and essence of our religion
must be common to all the holy iidiabitants of
tlie universe.

From what has been now stated respecting the
universality of the principle of love, the follow-
ing conclusions may be deduced : —

1. That the man in whose heart this principle
Ifl predominant, and whose actions are directed by
its influence, is qualified for associating with the
pure intelligences of all worlds. Were we trans-

Eorted to the surface of the planet Jupiter, and
ad we access to minglo with its vast population;
or were we conveyed to one of the planets which
revolve around the star Sirius — if tlie iniiabitants
of these globes have retained the primeval purity
c' their natures, and if the principle of love
reigned supreme in our hearts, we should be as-
sured of a welcome reception from those distant
intelligences, and be qualified to mingle with them
in their adorations of our common Creator, and
in all their affectionate and harmonious inter-
courses. We should only have to learn the mode
by which they communicate to each other their
ideas and emotions. Love would form the basis
of every union, and amalgamate us with every
department of their society. With pleasure, and
with the most endearing affection, would they
point out to us the peculiar glories of the world
they inhabit, and rehearse the history of the Crea-
tor's dispensations in that portion of his empire;
and with equal pleasure should we listen to the
instructions which flow from the lips of Benevo-
lence) and survey those transporiing objects and
arrangements which decorate a world where iove
pervades *!ie breasts of all its inhabitants. To
visit a distant world, although it were in our
power, where the inhabitants were of an opposite
description, could afford no gratification to an in-
telligent and benevolent mind, but would over-
whelm it with anguish and dismay. What enjoy-
ment would the capacious mind of a pure intelli-
gence from the regions of the cor-ti^ltation Orion,
derive from visiting a world inhabited by such
beings as the inhabitants of Nootka Sound, New
Guinea, or New Zealand, where the moral and
intellectual principle is completely dfbuscd, and
where the beauties of Nature are defaced with
interminable forests and marshes, and the Iruints
of beasts of prey? He would be filled with dis-
appointment and horror — he might drop a tear of

Vol. I.— 20

pity over the wretched inhabitants; bat he Wfuld
soon wing his flight back to a more delectable
region. A similar disappointment would be felU
were an inhabitant of our world, in whose mind
hatred and cruelty, avarice and ambition, reigned
without control — to be conveyed to a world of
happiness and love. The novel -scenes of beauty
and grand' ur, which would burst upon his sight,
might captivate his senses for a little : but he
would feel no enjoyment in the exercise of virtii-
ous affections and rapturous adorations, to which
he was never accustomed; he would liiid no ob-
jects on which to gratify liis cruel and ambitious
desires, and he would be glad to escape from the
abodes of affection and bliss, to the depraved so-
ciety from whence he came. Hence we may learn,
that, however expansive views we may have ac-
quired of the range of the Creator's operations,
and of the immensity of worlds which are ditFu.sed
through boundless space, and however arJejit de-
sires we may indulge of visiting the distant re-
gions of creation, we never can indulge a rational
hope of enjoying such a privilege, were it possi-
ble, unless love to God and to man become the
predominant disposition of our minds. For, al-
though we were invested by the Almighty with
corporeal vehicles, capable of transporting us from
one region of creation to another, with the most
rapid motion, we could enjoy no solid satisfaction,
while we remained unqualified for relishing the
exercises, and mingling in the associations of holy
intelligences. In every happy world on which
we alighted, we should feel ourselves in a situation
similar to that of a rude and ignorant boor, were
he convej'ed to a palace, and introduced into aa
assembly of courtiers and princes.

2. Another conclusion deducible from this suV
jcct is, that by virtue of this grand and govera-
ing principle, man is connected with the highest
order of intelligences, and with the inhabitants of
the most distant worlds; and his happiness per-
petually secured. When we take a view of th«
universe by the light of modern science, our
minds are overpowered and confounded at the
idea of its vast and unlimited range. When we
consider that it would require several millions of
years for a cannon ball, flying at the rate of five
hundred miles an hour, to reach the nearest stara
— when we consider that there are stars visible
to the naked eye, at least fifty times farther dis-
tant than these — when we consider that there are
stars visible by the telescope a thousand times
farther distant than any of the former — and when
we consider that all the suns and worlds which
lie within this unfathomable range are, in all pro-
bability, only as a grain of sand to the whole
earth, when compared with the immensity of sys-
tems which lie beyond them in the unexplored
abyss of infinite sj)ace, — we are lost in the im-
mensity of creation, and can .set no bounds to the
empire of the Almighty Sovereign. When we
look forvrard to that eternal state to which we are
destined — when we consi(!er that after thousands
of millions of centuries have run their rounds,
eternity will be no nearer to a termination, and
that ages, numerous as the drops of the ocean, will
still roll on in interminable succession, — wo bo-
hold a la])se of duration, and a succession of
events stretching out before us, which correspond
with the immeasurable spaces of the universe,
and the number and magnitude of the worlds with
which it is stored. When we view ourselves as
thus connected with the immensity of creation
on the one hand, and with infinite duration on the
other; and when wo reflect on the numerous
chauges tliat have happened, both in the physical

b2

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

and moral aspect of onr globe, within the period
of six llioiisuiiJ years, we cannot but conclude
that wc arc destined to i)ass through new scenes
and changes in that eternity which lies before us,
of wliicij at present wc can form no conception.
After reinauiing for thousands of millions of
years ia that world which will be prepared for tlio
righteous at tlie general resurrection, wc may be
transported to another system as far distant from
that aboJe as we now are from the most distant
stars visible to our sight, in order to contemplate
new tiisplays of the attributes of God, in another
province of his empire. We may afterward be
conveyed to an unoccupied region of immensity,
wliero new creations, ilisplaying new objects of
glory and uvignificence are starting into existence.
We may afterward be invested with the wings
of a seraph, and be enabled to wing our way, in
company with angels, from world to world, and
to visit the most distant regions of that immense
universe over which Omnij)Otence presides. In
short, the imagination can set no limits to its ex-
cursions, when it attempts to survej^ the revolu-
tions and changes that may take place, and the
new scenes of glory which may burst upon the
view, throughout the lapse of duration which will
have no end.

Now, in whatever relation man may stand to
any portion of the universal system, throughout
every future period of his existence, and during
all the revolutions of eternity, love will unite him
to all other holy beings with whom he may asso-
ciate, however distant their abode from the spot
he now occupies, however different its scenery
and arrangements, and however superior they
may h: in point of corporeal organization and in-
tellectual capacity. For no intelligence, in any
region of the universe, in whom the principle
of love predominates, can ever be supposed to dis-
dain to associate with another, of whatever rank
or order, who is actuated by a similar affection;
otherwise his love would degenerate into malevo-
lence. This principle v;ill unite him to angels
and archangels, to cherubim and seraphim, to
thrones, dominions, principalities, and powers,
from whose discourses be will learn the history of
the divine dispensations, the wonders of Almighty
power, and the "manifold wisdom of God." So
long as it reigns uncontrolled in his heart, it will
secure his happiness in all places, and in every
period of his existence, by a law established by
the Almighty, and founded on his perfections; a
law which binds together the whole intelligent
system, and forms the basis of the felicity of the
moral universe. So that his future blessedness is
forever secure, beyond the reach of danger, and
rests upon a foundation stable and permanent as
the throne of the Eternal.

3. From what has been now stated, we may
learn that there is but one relic/ion throughout the
universe, however vast its magnitude and bound-
less its extension. In this world, numerous sys-
tems of religion prevail, and thousands of differ-
ent o^'inions in relation to its ceremonies and ob-
jects; but experience has demonstrated, that all
of them, except one, are insufRcient to guide ra-
tional beings to substantial felicity. And of this
one system, how many foolish and inaccurate,
and ev'eii contradictory opinions, have been form-
ed, through the ignorance and perversity of
the human mind! Though all its parts have
a direct refL^rence to the actions of intelligent
agents, and to the cultivation of benevolent qff'ec-
Uons, yet it has been represented, even by its pro-
fessed abettors, as a congeries of metaphysical
dogmas and speculative opinions; and in this

point of view it has been the pourcc of perpetual
wrangling and contentions. Though it is calcu-
lated to expand the understanding, to warm tiio
heart, and to elevate the soul to God, yet it has
been reduced, by the cunning artifice of man, to
a mass of mere quibbles and unmeaning ceremo-
nies. And tho'ugh it breathes nothing but i)eace
and good-will to man, it has been employed as an
engine of i)ersecution and of human destruction,
it is only in proportion as our religion apj)roxi«
mates to the character of the religion which is
common to all lioly beings, thatit is wortliy of our
veneration and our ardent pursuit. And there-
fore, in order to determine the truth and impor-
tance of any p;irticular system of religious opin-
ions, tlie bi'st test we can apply to it i^!, to ascer-
tain what bearings it has upon the grand princi-
ples to which we have been adverting. " Do all
the sentiments and tenets which it strenuously
supports, like the lines from the circumference
to the center of a circle, converge toward the pro-
motion of lore in all of its practical ramifications?
Are the opinions we now so fiercely maintain of
such a nature, that we shall probably recognize
them as important practical principles a million
of years hence, in the regions of distant worlds?"
If such a test were applied to hundreds of opin-
ions which have agitated the religious world, and
obstructed the operations of the benevolent affec-
tions, they would be driven awaj- from the Chris-
tian system as ^chaff before the whirlwind; and
Christians would feel ashamed of the importance
they attached to their " mint, and anise, and cum-
min," while they neglected the weightier matters
of the law, "judgment, mercy, and the love of
God." How many false and foolish opinions
shall we leave behind us in this region of dark-
ness and contention, when we enter within the
confines of the eternal state? How sublime, how
lovely, and how beautifying will religion appear
in that world, where it will be contemplaletl in
its native simplicity, and stripped of all the for-
eign and adventitious circumstances which now
obscure its brightness and glory! I need scarcely
say, that the one religion to which I allude is
Christianity, considered, not so much in the
scheme of mediation which it unfolds, which may
have a relation solely to man viewed in his char-
acter as a sinner, but in the leading dispoHiions and
virtues it inculcates, and in the great objects which
all its doctrines, facts, and supernatural commu-
nications have a tendency to accomplish. In
these points of view, it must be considered as em-
bodying principles and laws which pervade the
religious systems of all worlds.

b inally, Love is a principle in the moral and
intelligent system which bears a striking analogy
to the principle of attraction in the material
world. Each of them unites, in its resi)ective
sphere, all the beings which compose it in one
grand and harmonious system; and both of them
combined give birth to all the moral and physical
phenomena which diversify the intellectual and
the material universe. By the principle of attrac-
tion, the inhabitants of the earth, along with their
habitations, are retained to its surface, and pre-
vented from flying off in A-ild confusion through
the voids of space. By the same power Iho
mountains rest on a solid basis, the rivers flow
from the mountains to the plains, and the ocean
is confined within its appointed channels. It pro-
duces the various phenomena which arise from
the meandering rill, the majestic river, and the
roaring cataract. It produces the descent of rain
and dew, and the alternate flux and reflux of the
tides. It prevents the waters of the great deep

ANALOGY OF LOVE TO ATTRACTION.

53

from covering the mountain-tops, and mingling
in confusion witli the clouds of lieaven. It binus
togetluM- tlie iiiiinity of iitonis wliicli constitute
tlie globe on which we Iread; it regulates the va-
rious niovemvnts of men and otlier animated be-
ings; it forms mechanical ])owers, and gives im-
pulsion to nnmerous macliines and engines. It

tem — the center of liglit, and love, and joy — they
all revolve in their ajjiiointed order, cheered bv
the emanation of his love, enlightened bv lii's
beams, and reflecting a radiance upon all the be-
ings with which they are surroiiiided. Though
one orb diifers from another in motion, in mag-
nitude, and in glory, yet no one interferes with

jolis the moon in regular succession around the i anoth.T to impede its progress, or to intercept the

earth, and prevents Jier from running lawlessly
through the sky. It extends its intluence from
the sun to the remotest planets, conducting re-
volving worlds, with all tlieir satellites, in their
an;ple circuits, and preserving them all in one
harmonious system. It connects the earth and
the ])lunetary globes with other systems in the
distant regions of space; and carries the sun,
Willi all his attendant orbs, around the center of
that nebula to which it belongs, and all the sys-
tems and nebuluj of the universe around the
throne of (iod.

In like manner, love unites all holy intelli-
gences, wherever dispersed through the ampli-
tudes of creation, in one amiable and harmonious
system. It nnites man to God, and God to man.
It unites the renovated inhabitants of onr globe
to angels and archangels, and qualifies them for
entering into the closest bonds of friendship and
afi'eciion with superior intelligences that people
the regions of distant worlds. It produces an
expansive and harmonious spirit, and an ardent
desire to cifTuse happiness among all surround-
ing beings. It gives birth to those sublime emo-
tions which flow out toward the Creator in the
various forms of adoration, complacency, hope,
confidence, humility, joy, submission, and reve-
rence; and it is the spring of all those virtuous
dispositions which flow out toward our fellow-
rreatures in the form of mercy, compassion, sin-
terity, candor, sympathy, kindness, long-sufFer-
Ing, gentleness, meekness, charity, generosity,
justice, and active beneficence. It impels its
jjossessor to run to the assistance of the dis-
tressed, to support the weak, to console the des-
ponding, to comfort the dying, to diffuse the rays
of heavenly light over the benighted mind, and
to rejoice in the prosperity of all around. It is
"the bond of perfection" which unites the mem-
bers of an affectionate family, and preserves the
union of the faithful in all the churches of the
saints. It nnites man to man by the closest ties,
however different in language, customs, color, and
coinplexion, and however far removed from each
other in point of place. It enables the Greenland-
sr, the Icelander, the African, the inhabitant of
Hindoslan, and the inhabitant of the British Isles,
'ii whose hearts it resides, to recognize each other
»s " the sons of God," and as " brethren in Christ
Tesus." It sends forth the imagination over every
quarter of the globe, carrying benevolent wishes,
fervent prayers, and intercessions for men of all
Kindreds and ranks; and employs every active en-
deavor to promote the present enjoyment and the
eternal felicity of the family of mankind. It in-
S])ires the soul with emotions of delight, when it
becomes the instrument of conmuinicating haj)-

fi.ie:is to all within the sphere of its influence. —
t nnites the host of seraphim and cherubim in
one vnst and harmonious association; so that no
jarring affection is eve- folt, and no discordant
roice is ever heara, among the thousands and ten
thousands of these exalted intelligences. It pre-
serves every member of the holy and intelligent
eyslem in the rank and orbit prescribed by Infi-
nite Wisdom, and leads them all to rejoice in ac-
eomplisliing the plans of their benevolent Crea-
tor. Around him, as the sun of the moral sys-

emanations oi light and joy from the Uncreated
iSource and Center of all enjoyment.

Were the principle of attraction which biuco
together the atoms of our globe, and connects the
planetary orbs with the sun, to be completely dis-
solved, the earth would be shattered to its center;
the waters of the ocean woidd fly upward, and
be dispersed through the highest regions of the
atmosphere; rocks and mountains would be de-
tached from their bases, and raised aloft above the
clouds; forests would be torn up from their roots,
and tossed about in confusion through the sky;
the moon would forsake her ancient course; the
planets w^ould run lawlessly through the im-
mensity of .space, and mighty worlds would be
seen dashing against each other, until they were
shattered to pieces, and their fragments tossed
about in disorder throughout surrounding sys-
tems. Effects equally disastrous to the intelligent
system would be produced, were the influence oL
love, in all its varied emanations, to be com-
pletely suspended or annihilated. War would be
proclaimed in heaven, and myriads of angels
liurled from their seats of bliss. The rapturous
songs and adorations of seraphs would be changed
into the bowlings and execrations of demons. —
The population of the universe would be trans-
formed into one vast assemblage of fiends; its
regions of beauty and fertility would become one
wide scene of desolation and horror, and the voice
of lamentation and misery would be heard re-
sounding throughout all worlds. On earth king-
doms Would be shaken and convulsed; govern-
ments overturned; societies dissolved; families
dispersed; the bonds of fiiendship burst asunder;
husbands torn from their wives, and parents from
their children; the intercourse of nations sus-
pended; the pursuits of science and religion aban-
doned; every rank and relation overturned, and
virtue banished from the abodes of men. Desert-
ing all social beings, and forsaken by all, man
would become asolitaiy monster, wandering with-
out plan or object, an enemy to himself and to
his species. Anarchy and disorder would reign
trium[)hant over the whole race of human beings,
and the bowlings of wretchedness and despair
would re-echo from every land.

Such a scene of moral desolation, seJJishness
and maligniiy have a natural tendency to create;
and such a scene they have actually created in
our world, in so far us their ivjluence has extended.
The power of attraction has never bi-en com-
pletely suspended in relation to our globe, nor has
the moral Governor of the universe suffered the
principle of love to be entirely eradicated from
the minds of its inhabitants. }3ut, as when the
law of gravitation is counteracted in case of
earthquakes and volcanoes, the most drtstruclivB
and desolating convulsions ensue, — so it h!:.ppens
in the moral world, when the law of benevolence
is trampled un(i^^ foot. "Nation rises against
nation, and kingdom against kingdom;" hostile
armies encounter like tigers rushing on thewr
prey; "firebrands, arrows, and death" are scat-
tered in every direction; a confused noise of cha-
riots, and horsemen, and of engines of destrac-
tion, is wafted on every breeze; garments are'
rolled in blood, and whole plains drenched v/ith

54

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

human gore, aiul covorod with the carcasses of
tlio sluiu. But wherever love liiffuv^s its power-
ful and beiii;rii inllueuoo, there harmony, iiappi-
ucss and peace are enjoyed by every rank of
sensitive and intellectual existence. In every
world where it reigns supreme, the intellectual
faculty is irradiatedrthe afll-ctions are puritied and
expanded, transporting joys are felt, and, like the
planetary orbs and their trains of satelliteR. all
eliine wilh a steady luster, and move onward in
harmonious order, around the Supreme Soure*
of iutelligeuce, and the Elerual Center of all
felicity.

SECTION VII.

Thk preceding

VIEWS • CORROBORATED BY
REVELATIOM.

In the preceding sections I have endeavored to
illustrate the two grand principles of the Moral
Law, and to demonstrate their reasonableness, and
the necessity of their universal operation, in order
to the promotion of the happiness of the intelli-
gent system. I have proceeded all along on the
ground of revelation, as well as of reason, and
the nature of things. But since these important
principles form the basis of the system of reli-
gion, and of all the practical conclusions I may
afterward deduce in the remaining part of this
work, it may be expedient to advert a little more
explicitly to the declarations of Scripture on this
•ubject. And here I propose very briefly to show,
that it is the great end of Divine Revelation to
illustrate these principles in all their various bear-
iigs, and to bring them into practical operation.

This position is expressly stated by our Saviour
liimself, in his reply to the scribe, who proposed
the question, "Which is the great commandment
in the law?" "Thou shalt love the Lord thy
God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and
with all thy mind. This is the first and great
commandment. And the second is like unto it;
Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. O.v

THESE TWO COM.MANDMENTS HANG ALL THE LAW

AND THE PROPHETS." This declaration evidently
implies, that it is the design of the whole of the
Old Testament Revelation, to illustrate and en-
force these laws, and to produce all those holy
tempers which are comprised in the love of God,
and of our neighbor. This appears to be the
grand object of all the historical facts, religious
institutions, devotional exercises, moral maxims,
prophesies, exhortations, promises, and threaten-
tngs, which it records. The history of the forma-
tion of the universe, and of the beautiful ar-
rangement of our globe, as detailed in the Book
of Genesis, is calculated to display the wisdom
and goodness of the Creator, and to draw forth
our affections toward Him who is the Author of
our enjoyments, and who pronounced everything
he had made to be "very good." The history of
the wickedness of the antediluvian world, of the
dreadful effects it produced in the state of society,
and of the awful catastrophe by which its inhab-
itants were swept from existence, and buried in
the waters of the deluge, is calculated to illus-
trate, in the most striking manner, the guilt and
the danger ef withdrawing the affections from
God, and of indulging a principle of malevolence
toward man. The history of the crimes of So-
dom, and of the fate of its wretched inhabitants:
the destruction of Pharaoh and his armies at the
Red Sea; the history of the idolatrous practices
ef the Israelites, of their murmurings in the

wilderness, and of the punishments inflicted for
th 'ir rebellion; the fate of Korah, Dathau, and
Abiram, and of tlie worshipers of Baal: The do-
struelion of the nations of Canaan; the judg-
ments wliioh pursued the Jewish nation, during
the whole period of their history, on account of
their defection from God, and the calamitiL-s which
befell them at the period of the Babylonisii cap-
tivity— together with ail the other facts connected
vvit'a the history of that people and of the sur-
rounding nations, are intended to exhibit Ihn dis-
mal consequences, und the moral wretchedness
wliich inevitably follow, when the affections of
mankind are withdrawn from the God of Heaven,
and left to grovel in the mire of depravity and
vice.

The institutions of the Jewish Church were
appointed for promoting the knowledge and the
love of God, and for exciting an abhorrence of
everything which is contrary to the rectitude and
purity of his nature. Among the tribes that in-
habited the land of Canaan, prior to the entrance
of the Israelites, and a.mong all the surrounding
nations, the worship of false gods, the grossest
superstitions, and the most abominable vices uni-
versally prevailed. It was one great end of the
laws and ceremonies enjoined upon Israel, to
excite the highest degree of abhorrence at every-
thing which was co}inected with idolatry, to por-
tray its wickedness and folly, to rivet the affec-
tions of the people to the worship of the true
God, to preserve them uncontaminated from the
malignant disposition, and the vile practices of the
neighboring nations, and to instruct them in the
nature and attributes of the Deity; that Ihey
might be "a peculiar people to Jehovah, sepa-
rated from all the pt-opie that were on the face of
the earth." Hence, the following intimation and
injunction are placed on the front of the moral
code of laws delivered to that nation, "Hear, O
Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord. Thou
shalt have no other gols before me." To pro-
mote harmony and affection between man and
man; to enforce the exercise of justice and equity
in all their dealings; to inculcate chastity and
purity of affection, kindness to strangers, com-
passion, tenderness, and sympathy; obedience to
parents, charitable dispositions toward the poor
and needy, and tenderness and mercy toward the
inferior animals, were the great objects of the va-
rious laws and regulations comprised in their mo-
ral and political code.

The devotional portions of the Old Testament,
particularly those contained in the book of Psalms,
have the same general tendency. The descrip-
tions of the work of creation and providence, the
adorations of the majesty of the God of Israel,
the celebration of the divine character and excel-
lencies, and the ascriptions of thanksgiving and
praise for the mercy, long-suffering, and goodness
of God, with which these divine compositions
abound, are calculated to raise the ;iffections to
Jehovah as the source of every blessing, and to
inspire the soul with love, admiration, and reve-
rence. In many of these sublime odes, particu-
larly in the 119th Psalm, the mind of the Psalmist
is absorbed in meditation on the excellency of the
divine precepts, and the happiness which the ob-
servance of them is calculated to convey to the
soul. "0 how I love tliy lawl" says DaviJ; " il
is my meditation all the day. The law of thy
mouth is better unto me than thousands of gol^
and silver. I liave rejoiced in thy testimonies as
much as in all riches." The moral maxims con-
tained in the writings of Solomon are likewise
intended to draw forth the desires after God, to

ILLUSTRATIONS FROM SCRIPTURE.

55

counteract the influence of the depraved passions 1 Thou slialt love thy neighbor, and hatn Ihim* ena-

of llie liiiiiiim lieurt, and to [iroinote Ihe exercise
of candor, sincerity, justice, and benevok-ULC
among munliind. Tlio exhortations, remon-
Btrances. an.l (ienunciatiojis of the pro[)hnts, were
also iiitendeJ to recall the affections of the people
of Ir.rael to the God from whom tliey had revolted,
to show the unreasonableness of their conduct in
" lors;il;ii)jr tile fountain" of their haj)piness; to
di.splay the purity, tlm excellence, and the eternal
obligaliou of the divine precepts, and to warn
tliein of the inevitable misery aud ruin whicli will
overtake the workers of iniquity. In short, all
the promises and threatenings of the word of God,
all the considerations addressed to the hopes and
the fears of men, all the providential dispensations
of God, all the manifestations of the divine cha-
racter and perfections, aild all the descriptions of
the glories of heaven, and of the terrors of hell,
have a tendency to illustrate the indispensable ob-
ligation of love to God, and love to all mankind,
in order to secure our present comfort aud eternal
felicity.

And, as it was the main design of the Old Tes-
tament economy to illustrate and enforce the prin-
ciple of love to God and to man, so it is, in a par-
ticular manner, the great object of the Christian
Revelation, to exhibit the law of love in all its
bearings and practical applications. In one of the
first sermons delivered by our Saviour, and the
longest one recorded in the Evangelical History,
the Sermon on the Mount, the main design is to
•explain and enforce these principles, in relation
both to God and to man, and to sweep away all tlie
false glosses wliicli Ignorance and Prejudice had
mingled with their interpretations of the Divine
Law. In one part of this discourse, our Lord de-
clares, that we may as soon expect to see " heaven
aud earth pass away," or the whole frame of the
universe dissolved, as that "one jot or one tittle
shall pass from the law." For, as it is a law
founded on the nature of God, it must be of etci-
iial obligation, and can never be abrogated with
regard to any class of rational beings, in consis-
tency with the perfections of the divine nature.
As it is a law absolutely perfect, comprehending
within its range every disposition and afl'ection,
and every duty wliich is requisite for promoting
the order and liajipiness of intelligent agents, no-
thing can be taken from it without destroying its
perfection; and nothing can be added to it without
supposing that it was origiijj^Uy imperfect. And

my. But I say unto you, Love your e.-iLinics;
bless them that curse you; do good to them that
hate you; and pray (or tliem that despilefully us6
you, and persecute you ; that you may be tha
children of your Father who is in heaven; for he
maketh his sun to arise on the evil and on tli»
good, and sendeth rain on the just and on tha
unjust." This is one of the most sublime exer-
cises of the principle of loi'e, in reference to our
fellow-men ; and it is enforced from the most
sublime motive and consideration — the conduct
of Benevolence itself toward a race of rcbellioua
and ungrateful creatures.

All the other instructions of this Divine Teacher
— his parables, exhortations, admonitions, warn-
ings, and consolatory addresses, though referring
to particular cases and circumstances — had tha
same general object in view. When his disciples
would have called for fire from heaven, to con-
sume the Samaritans, he kindly, but with energy
and decision, reminded them, that a principle of
malignity was embodied in their unhallowL-d de-
sires, which is directly opposed to the law of love.
"Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of;
for the iSon of man is not come to destroy men'a
lives, but to save them." Among his last instruc-
tions to his followers, when he was about to de-
part from the scene of his earthly pilgrimage, lov«
was the grand theme on which he repeatedly ex-
patiated. "A new commandment give I unto
you, that ye love one another; as I have loved
you, that ye also love one another. By this shall
all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have
love one to another." "These things I command
you, that ye love one another."

And, as the promotion of the spirit of love was
tlie great object of his instructions, so his whola
life was an uninterrupted exemplihcation of the
purest benevolence, both toward friends and toward
enemies. Never did that holy affection which
unites the angelic tribes, and diffuses joy among
the poor inhabitants of all worlds, appear within
the confines of our world, so amiable, so disinte-
rested, and so ardent, as during the period of tha
public ministry of Jesus, and particularly toward
the close of his earthly career. In the inmiediate
prospect of sufferings, dreadful beyond our con-
ceptions, his love to mankind was " strong as
death," which the many waters of affliction wliich
surrounded him were unable to quench. His whole
soul seemed to bo absorbed in affection toward his

t was intended to preserve the harmony and ' disconsolate disciples, and in a desire to cheer and
to secure the felicity of the intellectual beings that animate their drooping spirits. His last addresses,
people the earth and the heavens, the fabric of i as recorded by the Evangelist John, breathe a
universal nature must be destroyed, before this ; spirit of tenderness and compassion, and of Divine
law can be set aside or canceled. For we have ' benignity, of which we have no parallel in tha
already seen (Sect. IV), that, were it reversed, the \ annals of our race.

whole intelligent system would be transformed To display his kindness and condescension, anci
into a scene of confusion, misery, and horror, to teach liis disciples to perform with cheerfulness
For the purpose of affording an immense theater, the humblest offices of friendship, he rose from
on which the operations of this law might be dis- supper ; he laid aside his garments ; he took a
played, the earth with all its furniture and decora- towel; he girded himself; he poured water into a
tions, and the heavens, with all their hosts, were basin; he began to wash the disciples' feet; and
called into existence; and, therefore, were it either he wiped them with the towel wherewith he v/as
canceled or reversed, neither the glory of the girded. He then addressed them in such language
Cvealor would be displayed, nor the happiness of i as this: — "Let not your heart be troubled; in my
his intelligent creation secured. Tiic mighty ex- ' Father's house are many mansions; I go to pre-
panse of i.he universe, enclosing so many spacious pare a place for you. And, if I go and prepare
worlds, \\ ould become one boundless moral desert, a place for you, I will come again and receive
in which no "fruits of righteousness" would ap- you to myself; that where I am there ye may
pear, nor any trace of the beauty and benevolence be also. I will not leave you comfortless; I will
of the Eternal Mind. — In the same discourse, our pray the Father, and he shall give you another
Saviour enforces the duty of love toward even comforter, even the Spirit of truth, which shall
our most bitter enemies and most furious perse- abide with you forever. What.soever ye shall ask
cutors. »• Yo have heard that it hath been said,,, in my name, I will do it. Peace I leave with you;

66

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

my peace I give unto you ; not as the world
givatii, give I unto you. Let not your heart be
troublcil, neither let it be tiiruid." la Jiis last
prayer, which acconij).inied tliese benedictions,
Uie same ardi'iit flow of aff.'ctiou burst from his
benevolent heart — "Holy Father! keep, through
thine own n;inie, those whom thou hast given inc,
that thoy may be one as we afe." But his love
was not contined to the select few with wliom he
was surrounded at this interesting hour. His
mental eye surveyed the various tribes which
people this department of creation — it pierced
tlirough all the succeeuing generations of man-
kind— and he embraced in liis expansive atrcctions
the whole race of the faithful until tiie close of
time. "Neither pray I for these alone; but for
them also who shall believe on me through their
word; that they all may be one, as thou, Father,
art in mc, and I in thee; that they also may be
one in us." Even toward his bitterest enemies
his benevolent emotions flowed out, in earnest
Bupplications for their forgiveness. Neither " the
floods of ungodly men,"' which compassed him,
nor the torrents of abuse which were poured
Upon him while he was nailing to the cross, could
overpower that heavenly flame which burned in
his holy breast. In the midst of all the mocke-
ries, insults, and indignities which he endured,
when he was made "a spectacle to angels and to
men," his affectionate desires ascended, with the
smoke of the evening sacrifice, to the throne of
God, in behalf of his murderers — •' Father, for-
give thera ; for they know not what they do."
0, what a striking contrast is here presented, to
those scenes of pride, malignity, and revenge,
which have so long disgraced the race of Adam,
and spread lamentation, and mourning, and terror,
among families, societies, and nations! What a
happy world would this become, were it peopled
with such amiable characters, and were all who
profess to be followers of Jesus, instead of con-
tending about " questions which gender strife,"
to vie with each otlier in imitating his mild and
benevolent spirit! Then Christianity would ap-
pear in its native luster, and receive the homage
due to its divine character: and t!ie name of Jeho-
vah would soon be proclaimed throughout all the
earth, and the joys of his salvation felt in every
clime.

Again, it is one great end of the death of Christ
to destroy the principle of malignity in the hu-
man heart, and to promote the operation of the
law of love. "While we were enemies (says
the Apostle Paul;, we were reconciled to God
by the death of his Son." " We are sanctified
tlirough the offering of the body of Jesus Christ
once for all." "He loved ns, and washed us
from our sins in his own blood." "They who
were enemies in their mind, and b}' wicked works,
he reconciled in the body of his flesh through
death, to present them holy and unblamable, and
uureprovable in his sight." Love to his heavenly
Father, and love to mankind, impelled him to
" humble himself, and to become obedient to
death, even the death of the cross." And, in
order that this divine principle might be kept
alive, and form a bond of union among all his
followers, he appointed an ordinance, consisting
of sensible signs, in commemoration of his death,
to be ob.served in all ages as a memorial of his
love, and to remi;id his friends of the indispen-
sabh' obligation under which they are laid to love
one another. To promote the same benevoL^-nt
design, he arose from tlie dead, ascended to heav-
en, sent down the Spirit of Holiness to abide in
tlie Church, and now presides in the celestial

world as "a Prince and a Saviour, to give re-
pentance and the remission of sins."

And, as the instructions and the example of
Jesus Christ were calculated to exhibit th? prin-
ciple of love in all its interesting aspects, and to
promote its practical influence, so the pn aching
and the writings of his Apostles had tiie sajna
important object in view, as the ultimate scops
of all their ministrations. The one half of ev^ry
epistle to the Christian churches is occupied io
delineating the practical bearings of this licly af-
fection. Like the lines which proceed from th»
center to the circumference of a circle, the various
radiations of Christian afllxtion are traced from
love, as the grand central point, and exhibited iu
all their benign influence on individuals, families,
churches, and the ciiversified relations which sub-
sist in civil and Chrislian society. "Above all
things," says the Apostle, " put on love, which ia
the bond of perfection. Tliough we sj)eak with
the tongues of men and angels, and have not love,
we are become as sounding brass, or a tinkling
cymbal. And though we understand ail mys-
teries, and all knowledge, and bestow all our
goods to feed the poor, and have not love, it pro-
liteth nothing. Love sutFereth long, and is kind;
love envieth not, vaunteth not itself, doth not be-
have itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not
easily provoked, thinketh no evil. Prophesies
shall fail, languages shall cease, earthly know-
ledge shall vanish awaj', but love never failelh.^'
"Love worketh no ill to his neighbor; therefore,
love is the fulfilling of the law. All the law is*
comprehended in this saying, namely, Thou shalt
love thy neighbor as thyself." "The works of the
flesh," or those which flow from a principle of
malignity, "are these: fornication, uncleanness,
idolatry, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath,
strife, seditions, envyings, murders, revelings, and
such like. But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy,
peace, long-sutFering, gentleness, goodness, fidelity,
meekness, and temperance." " Let love be with-
out dissimulation, and waLt in love as Christ also
hath loved us. Be kindly afFectioned one toward
another with brotherly love, in honor preferring
one another. Distributing to the necessity of
saints; given to hospitality. Bless them that per-
secute you; bless, and curse not. Rejoice with
them that do rejoice, and weep with them that
weep. Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ
also loved the ch\irch; chddren, obey your pirents
in the Lord; fathers, provoke not your children
to wrath, but bring them up in the nurture and
admonition of the Lord. Servants, be obedient
to your masters, with good will doing service as
to the Lord, and not unto men; and ye masters, «
do the same thing unto them, forbearing threaten- I
ing, knowing that your master also is in heaven." ij
" Put on, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, \
bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind,
meekness, long-sufTering; forbearing one another
in love, and forgiving one another, if any man
have a quarrel against any; even as Christ for-
gave you, so also do ye."

Such is the general scope of the instructions
which tlie ajjostles delivered, in all their ccm-
munications to the Christian churches, whether
composed of Jews or Gentiles. And, had it not
been for the strong prejudices of the Jews, and
the erroneous conceptions of the Gentiles, which
the apostles had to combat, it is probable, that
the whole of their epistles would h:ive been solely
occupied in delineating the praciical efTects of
love to God, and to our brethren of maidiind, and
its glorious consequences in the future world.
And, OS it was the great aim of the apo»tlo»

PRACTICAL OPERATIONS OF BENEVOLENCE.

57

fiiemsclvea, iu thoir writings and personal ad-
ministrations, to illustrate the lumierous bearings
of Christian lovo, so they gave solemn charges to
their successors iu the work of the ministry, to
make all their instructions subservient to the pro-
motion of the same important object. Almost
the whole of th.e epistles aiidnssed (o Timothy
and Titus, which relate to the duties "»iid tlie ob-
jects of the Christian ministry, has a reference,
not to the di>'cussion of metaphysical questions in
theology, which "are unprofitable and vain," but
to tile illustration and the inculcating of those
practical dutii.'s which flow from the spirit of
love, and to the counteracting of those jjroud,
malignant, and speculative dispositions which are
opposed to the meekness and benignity of the
gospel of i)eace.

I might also have shown, by numerous quota-
tions, that, in the general cp.stles of Peter, James,
and John, the same grand object to which I have
been adt'erting is steauily and uniformly kept in
view. The first epistle of John is almost exclu-
sively devoted to the illustration of the love of
God and of man; and on this theme, in which
liis soul appears to be almost entirely absorbed,
he expatiates with peculiar energy and delight:
" We know that we liave passed from death to
life, because we love the brethren. He that
loveth not his brother abideth in death. Who-
Boever hateth his brother is a murderer; and ye
know that no murderer hath (the principle of)
eternal life abiding in him. Behold, what man-
ner of love the Father hath bestowed on us, that
we should be called the sons of God! Beloved,
let us love one another; for love is of God: and
ever)' one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth
God. He that loveth not knoweth not God; for
God is love. No man hath seen God at any time.
If wo love one another, God dwelleth in us, and
his love is perfected in us. If any man say, 1
love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar; for
he that lovelh not his brother, whom he Iiatii
seen, how can he love God, whom he hath not
Been?" It is recorded, by some ancient authors,
that when this apostle was grown old, and unable
to preach, he used to be led to the church at
Ephesus, and only to say these words to the peo-
ple, '^Little children, loce one another.'''' Such was
the importance which this venerable apostle at-
tached to Ivve, as the grand and governing prin-
ciple in the Christian system.

Finally, The procedure of the last judgment
will be conducted on evidence, deduced from the
manifestations of love. At that solemn period,
when the present economy of Divine Providence
shall come to a termination; when the elements
shall melt with fervent heat, and the great globe
on which we tread shall be wrapt in flames; when
the archangel shall descend, and sound an alarm
with "the tramp of God;" when the graves siiall
open, and give forth their dead; and when all the
genenttions of men, " both small and great," shall
stand before the throne of God; the elernal des-
ti-iy of all the millions of mankind will be un-
alterably determined, on the ground of the mani-
festations which have been given of the existence
and the operation of the principle of love, and of
the affections and conduct to which it is opposed.
"When the Son of man shall come in his glory,
ind all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit
opon the throne of his glory. And before him
jhall be assembled all nations. Then shall he say
to them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of
my Fatlier, inherit the kingdom prepared for you
from the foundation of the world. For I was an
buugered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty,

and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye
took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was
sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye
came unto me." And, though ye had no oppor-
tunity of performing these offices to me in person,
yet, " inasmuch as ye did it to one of the least of
these my brethren, ye did it unto n>e." "Then
shall he also say to them on the left hand, Depart
from me, ye cursed; for I was an hungered, and
ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty, dnd ye gave
me no drink; I was a stranger,and ye took me
not in; naked, and ye clotlied me not; sick, and
in prison, and ye visited me not. Verily, I say
unto you, inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the
least of these, ye did it not to me. And these
shall go away into everlasting punishment, but
the righteous into life eternal." For every one
shall be rewarded according to his works. — Such
is the importance which will be attached to the
influence of this holy aflection over the human
mind, at that " day of dread, decision, and de-
spair;" for it is quite obvious, that every action
here specified in relation to the righteous, is an
efi^ect of the love of God and of man presiding in
the heart; and, therefore, if we shall ultimately
be found destitute of this holy principle, we can-
not expect the reward of the failhful, nor "have
boldness in the day of judgment."

Thus it appears that it is the great end of all
the historical facts, the religious institutions, the
devotional writings, the moral maxims, the in-
structions of the prophets, the warnings, exhorta-
tions, promises, and tiireatenings, comprised in
the Jewish revelation, to illustrate and enforce the
law of love in its references both to God and to
man — that it is explained and illustrated in the
various instructions delivered by our blessed Sa-
viour, and enforced by his example — that its
numerous bearings and modifications are display-
ed in the writings of all the apostles, and in their
instructions to Christian teachers — and, that its
existence in the heart, and its operation in active
life, will form the decisive test of our character
at the final judgment.

SECTION VIII.

On thk practical operation of lovt:, and thi
various modes in which it should be display-
ed toward mankind.

We have already seen, that love is a most noble
and expansive alYeclion. It is not like a blazing
meteor which dazzles the eye for a few moments,
and then vanishes from the sight. It does not
consi.n merely in a few transient emotions, and
fruitless wishes for the good of others. It does
not waste its energies in eloquent harangues
on the beauty of virtue, in theorizing speculations
on the principles of morals, in framing Quixotic
schemes of jdiilanthropy, or in weeping over talea
of fieliiions woe. It is a substantia! and an ever
active principle; its energies are exerted for the
purpose of communicating happiness to every
rank of sensitive and intellectual beings; and th«
moral world, as it actually exists, is tlie gr^nd
theater of its o|)erations. I have already endea-
vored to illustrate some of the modifications of
this alTeclion, in its relation to God;* and, in the
prececiing sections of this chapter, have occa-
sionally adverted to some of its benignant effects
in reference to man. It may, however, be cxpo-

• See pagei 35—39.

68

TFIE nilLOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

dient, In this pla'-e, to enter a litllo more cxpli-
citlj* into the practical operulioiis of heiicvoleiicc,
and the various modes by which its inlliieiice may
be manifoslea in relation to our bretliren of man-
kind.

Tlie grand object wliich love proposes to ac-
eomplisli, is the conimunicalion of happiness.
And, in ord^'r to stimulate and direct us in its ope-
rations, ihc. character and agency of God are set
before ns us our exemplar. There is not a more
amiable, attractive, nor comprehensive idea of the
Divine Being anywhere to be found than that
which is exhibited by the Apostle John, in three
words — God is love. He is the eternal, uncrea-
ted Source of felicity, from which flow all those
streams of joy which gladden the hearts of angels
and archangels, cherubim and seraphim ; and
whatever portion of happiness, sensitive or intel-
lectual, is enjoyed by man on earth, and by all tiie
subordinate tribes of animated nature, is derived
from the same inexhaustible fountain. For the
purpose of communicating liappiness, he called
the material universe into existence, to serve as
an immense theater, on which his benevolence
might be displayed to countless orders of sensitive
and intelligent creatures; and all the perfections
of his nature may be considered as so many agents
employed for the execution of this noble design.
Impelled, as it were, by this essential and charac-
teristic afi'ection of the Divine Mind, all the attri-
butes of Deity are incessantly operating through-
out the immensity of creation in the view of the
inhabitants of all world^' His Omnipotence is
employed in supporting the worlds already crea-
ted, and in bringing new systems, and new orders
of beings ijito existence; and his Wisdom, in de-
vising, selecting, and arranging those means wliich
are requisite for accomplishing the plans of be-
nevolence. Toward those wretched beings who
have abused his goodness, and wandered from hap-
piness, his Mercy is proclaimed; and his Patience
and forbearance are long exercised, in order to
lead them to repentance, and to the paths of feli-
city, liii Justice, conjoined with his power, is
exercised for the purpose of restraining the efl*orts
of malevolence, for preventing the inroads of an-
archy and confusion, and for preserving the order
and happiness of the intelligent creation. In this
view, all the judgments, however dreadful and ap-
palling, which have been inflicted on the workers
of iniquity in every age, have had a tendency to
accomplish the purposes of benevolence, in refer-
ence to the universal system. For, the general
good of God's universal empire, considered as one
whole, must be viewed as the great end which
benevolpnce is accomplishing, and the partial ex-
clusions from happiness, which now happen in
the case of certain classes of moral agents, must
be regarded as necessary arrangements subservi-
ent to this important end. His infinite Knoicledrje,
extending to all events, past, present, and to come;
and his Omniscient eye, piercing into the secret
purposes of every heart, surveying the various
tribes of men, and the circumstances of all the
worlds which float in the immensity of space,
and comprehending the remotest consequences
of all actions throughout infinite duration, enable
Him, in every instance, to form those arrange-
ments Ly which the objects of benevolence may
be accomplished on tlie most extensive scale, and
by which the everlasting happiness of the holy
and intelligent system may be most eiFectually
secured.

For the purpose of displaying his If. ve to the
moral inlelligHnces of our world, he has given us
a revelation of his character and will; he has ex-

hibited his law as a law of love; he has promisod
the agency of his holy Spirit, to prcilnce in U8
those disposjiioiis which his law requi.vs; and ha
has given the most aflecling display of his love,
in the mission of his Son into the woild. "In
this," says the Apostle Jolm, "was manifested
the love of God toward us; because that God sent
his only-begotten Son into the world, that w«
miglit live through him. Herein is love; not that
we loved God, but that he loved us, and si-nt hit
Son to be a propitiation for our sins. Beloved, If
God so loved us, how ought we to love one an-
other?"

Now, we are commanded in the sacred Scrip-
tures, to be imitators of God in his benevolent
operations, and especially in those cases in which
love requires to surmount every obstacle, and to
exert all its powers in opposition to hatred, en-
mity, .ind ingratitude. " Be ye perfect," says our
Saviour, " as your Father who is in heaven is per-
fect. Love your enemies; bless them who curse
you; do good to them who hate you; and pray
for them who despitefully use you and persecute
you. That you may be the children of your Fa-
ther who is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to
rise on the evil and on the good; and sendeth rain
on the just and on the unjust.'" So tliat his ene-
mies subsist on his bounty, and are cheered and
refreshed by his providential care. In like man-
ner, the operation of love on the part of man may
be considered as the whole energy of an intelli-
gent mind, directing its faculties of perception,
judgment, reasoning, and imagination, along with
its physical powers, to the production of liappi-
ness both among friends and enemies, so far as its
influence can extend. In the prosecution of this
noble end, man becomes " a worker together with
God," a subordinate agent in carrying forward
those plans of Infinite Benevolence which will
issue in the ultimate happiness of the moral uni-
verse. And as the Almighty, in his bencvolen*
operations, preserves the harmony of the univeree
by certain laws of order which he has establislied,
as is apparent in the arrangement of tlie planetary
system, and in the physical and moral economy
of our terrestrial sphere; so it is the duty of man,
in all the movements to which love impels him,
to imitate his Creator in this respect, and to em-
ploy the intellectual faculties with which he is
indued, for regulating the exercise of the be vio-
lent principle, for adapting and proportioning
means to ends, and for discriminating between
rational and enthusiastic schemes of exertion; so
that order may facilitate his movements, and that
the greatest sum of happiness may result from his
active endeavors.

We may now attend more particularly to the
practical operations of love, and tlie objects to-
ward which it should be directed.

The principal objects toward wliicli our benevo-
lence should be directed are, intclliqatt heinffS ;
and in the sphere of action to which we are at
present confined, man is the chief object wliom
we have it in our power to benefit by our benevo-
lent exertions. Our benevolent affections, indeed,
ought to expand toward all the holy intelligences
of which we have any intimation; and, in another
stage of our existence, we m.ay have an o])poitu-
nity of mingling with other orders of intellectual
beings, and of co-operating with them in diffusing
happiness throughout the universe; but while w©
continue in this sublunary region, the improve*
mcnt and happiness of our fellow-men is the chief
object to which our exertions must necessarily bo
confined; anJ when we view the present state of
the moral world in all nations and climates, we

PRACTICAL OPERATIONS OF BENEVOLENCE.

59

behold a field of exertion sufBciently ample to
employ all Ihe energies of benevolence that have
ever y?t been displayed, or perliaps ever will be
displayed during the existing economy of our
world.

Man may be considered in two points of view;
as possessed of a body, which is susceptible of
agreeable or disagreeable sensations and feelings;
•nd, as indued with a mind, or spiritual principle
which is capable of perpetual improvement in
knowledge and virtue, and which is destined to
en endless existence. In both these respects, love
will exert its powers in meliorating the condition
end pjon:oting tiie enjoyments of mankind. In
regard to his corporeal system, man has various
wants, which require to be supplied, and he is
eubjecied to various sufferings which require to
be soothed and alleviated. He stands in need of
food, raiment, shelter from the blasts of the tem-

f>ests, comfortable lodging and accommodation,
ight to cheer and enable him to prosecute his
employments, pure atmospheric air to invigorate
his animal system, and water to cleanse and re-
fresh him. He is exposed to corporeal weakness
and to mental imbecility; to pain, sickness, and
disease; to the loss of sight, of hearing, and of
bodily feelings; to the decrepitude of old age, and
to all those lingering disorders which terminate in
dissolution. He is also exposed to the afRictions
occasioned by the loss of friends and relatives; to
dejection of mind, to remorse of conscience, to
doubt, despondency, and despair; and to a long
train of anxieties, vexations, perplexities, and
troubles of various kinds. Now, in reference to
the wants of mankind, love, when genuine and
ardent, will endeavor to supply them wherever a
deficiency is known to exist; and in reference to
their calamities and sorrows, it will use its utmost
exertions to relieve and assuage them, in as far as
its powers and influence can extend. In this re-
spect, every one, however low his situation in life,
however limited the range of his knowledge, and
however contracted the sphere of his intluence
may be, has it in his power, in a greater or less
degree, to communicate blessings to his brethren
of mankind. He can visit the sick bed of an af-
flicted neighbor; he can supply a cup of cold wa-
ter to cool his parched tongue; he can wipe the
sweat from Ins forehead; he can smooth his pil-
low; he can turn him round on his bed of lan-
guishing, that he may enjoy a more comfortable
repose; and he can cheer him with those expres-
sions of tenderness and affection, which have a
tendency above all other acts of kindness to soothe
and revive the downcast spirit. He can assist his
neighbor by his strength, or by his skill, by his
counsel and advice, and by talcing a lively interest
in his concerns; he can promote his joy by re-
joicing in his prosperity and success, by assisting
him in his employment, by rescuing him from
danger, by forgiving the injuries he may have re-
ceived, by acknowledging the worth of the skill,
Tirtucs, and enaowments of which he is possessed,
and by listening with patience and complacency
to his sentiments, complaints, or grievance s. He
eai even promote the happiness of his neighbor
ill a Tiegaiice way, by not injuring him ill his cha-
racter or reputation; by not standing in the way
of his prosperity or advancement; by not thwart-
ing him in his schemes and enterprises; by not
interruj)tin]^ him in his innocent amusements;
and by refraining from evcrythiiig that would
tend unnecessarily to injure him in his trade or
profession. Such friendly attentions to promote
the comfort of his fellow-men, every one has it
in his power to bestow; and upon such upparently

trivial actions the happiness cf mankind in gene-
ral more immediately depends, than on many of
those legislative arrangements which arrest the
attention of a whole emjiire. For, were they uni-
versally performed, the greater part of the misi-ries
which afliict humanity would disappear from the
world.

But, in cases where a high degree of intellectual
talent, of wealth, and of influence is possessed,
love is enabled to take a wider range in its benefi-
cent operations, by endeavoring to counteruct
public evils, and to promote rational schemes of
general philanthropy. When we take a surv«*y
of the condition of the great mass of the lower
orders of society, we find them laboring under
many physical evils and inconveniences, which
have a tendency to injure their health and their
comfort, and to obstruct their moral and intel-
Itetual improvement. In their private habitations,
we find multitudes of them residing in places
where they are almost deprived of light and of
pure air, and surrounded with noxious effluvia,
putrid smells, and everything that is insalubrious
and ofi'ensive to the senses. We find whole fami-
lies packed into a narrow apartment of twelve
feet square, in a narrow lane, where the rays of
the sun never penetrate, where the refreshing
breeze is seldom felt, and where the beauties of
nature are never beheld. In public manufactories
we find hundreds of men, women, and children,
with pale faces and emaciated looks, breathing a
polluted atmosphere half-poisoned with deleteri-
ous fumes, steam, smoke, or noxious gases. In
large cities, we find numbers of children, through
the carelessness and unprincipled disposition of
their parents, left to wallow in filth and wretch-
edness, without even rags to cover their naked-
ness, and encouraged in the habits of pilfering,
and of every other vice which can debase their
minds and render them pests to society; and wo
behold others doomed to the degrading employ-
ment of chimney-sweeping, deprived of the at-
tentions which flow from the tender affection of
parents, and subjected to the harsh treatment of
unfeeling masters. We behold multitudes of hu-
man beings torn from their families and their
native land, cooped up in ftn infernal floating dun-
geon, carried to a foreign land, sold like cattle to
an avaricious planter, and held in the chains of
perpetual slavery. In reference to all these and
similar evils which exist in human society, love
will exert its energies, either to alleviate or to re-
move them. It will induce one iiulividual to in-
vestigate their causes, to point out the proper
means of remedy, and to publish to the world the
result of his deliberations and researches. It will
induce another to apjily the discoveries of natural
science and the inventions of art to the purjjose
of improving the physical condition of mankind.
It will induce a third individual, in conjunction
with others, to form rational plans of melioration,
and to organize societies to carry tlieiri into eftict;
and it will impel others to come forward with
their wealth and influence to provide the means
for carrying forward on the most extensive scale
the plans of general beneficence. In short, the
whole machinery of nature and art, of mind and
matter, of religion and literature, of science and
legit-lation, would be set in motion to promote the
external enjoyments of n.ankind, were love a
predominant principle in liuman society. Cot-
tages on commodious and healthy ]daiis would bo
reared for the industrious poor; streets w<>uld be
formed and gardens allotted them for the.r plea-
sure and accommodation; ]uiLlic manufactories
would be arranged and regulated in such a man-

60

THE FHILOSOFIIY OF RELIGION.

ner as to contribute to lioalth, to comfort, and to
rational improveirieiit;* tlie children of the poor
would be fed and clotiied,anii trained u]) to liabils
of industry and virtue; cniploymeut would bo
provided for all classes of laljorers and imchanics,
aud subsistence furuislied when employment could
not be procured; idleness would be universally
discouraj^od, and honorable industry would be re-
ward.'d in such a manner as to ati'ord not only the
comfcnts, but even many of the luxuri^'s of life;
slavery in every shape, with all its injustice and
cruellies, would be abolished, and rational liberty
would be proclaimed among all ranks and in
every clime.

Thus the man in whose heart love presides,
takes a lively and sincere interest in everything-
that has a tendency to promote the external com-
fort and welfare of his neighbor. He is compas-
sionate and merciful, gentle and indulgent, kind
and tender-hearted, generous and humane; he feels
for the sorrows of sutTeriug humanity, and his
wealth and activity are directed to relieve the dis-
tresses of the poor and the afilicted, to feed the
hungry, to clothe the naked, to protect the widow
and the orphan, to encourage honest industry, to
meliorate the condition of the useful mechanic,
and to increase and extend his comforts and en-
joyments. Of such a one it may be said, in the
language of Job, " He is eyes to the biiud, feet to
the lame, and a father to the poor. When the
ear hears him, then it blesses him, and when the
eye sees him, it gives witness to him; because he
delivers the poor that cries, and the fatiierless, and
him that hath none to help him. The blessing of
him that was ready to perish comes' u])on him,
and he causes the widow's heart to sing for joy."

But the activities of benevolence are not con-
fined to the communication of sensitive enjoy-
ments. Man is a rational and immortal, as well
as a sensitive being; and the operations of genu-
ine love will have for their ultimate object the
promotion of his best interests as a moral and in-
tellectual agent, and as an heir of immortality.

When we consider man as an intellectual be-
ing, standing in various important relations to his
God aud to his fellow-creatures, we behold nu-
merous evils which require to be remedied, as well
as in the circumstances of his physical condition.
Though the human mind is capable of vast ex-
pansion, of acquiring an immense number of
sublime and interesting ideas, and of enjoying the
purest pleasure in contemplating the objects wliich
lie within its range, yet it is a melancholy fact,
that in all ages, mental darkness has enveloped
the great majority of our race; and that the gross-
est ignorance of the most important truths, ac-
companied with the most degrading affections,
still prevails among the greater part of the popu-
lation of every region of the globe. We need not
go to the frozen climes of Lapland aud Labrador,

• Pome may be disposed to insinuate, that snch attempts
would be plropether visionary, ami conjd never be realized.
But 1 would ask sucli persons, Have such schemes ever been
attemiited to be realized on an extensive scale? Has tlie
promollon ol" the health and comfort of the industrious poor
ever become a partinilar o'ljcct of attention to the legisla-
ture, to men of rank and influence, and to the whole class of
opulent manufacturers'? Is it not a fact, that while the ac-
quisition of wealth is made the main oliject of attention,
the melioration of the condition of the industrious laborer
and mechanic is either altosether overlooked, or viewed as
a very subordinate object of attention? He is generally left
to shift tor himself the best way he can, ami left to breathe
in an impure atmosphere without any particular sacrifice
being made to remedy the evil. I venture to afilrni, that
were the comfort of the lower orders of society made as par-
ticular an object of attention as is the acquisition of wealth,
•very obstacle to its accoinplislimeat would sooa be removed.

to the filthy huts of tlio Greonlander and the Es-
quimaux, to the rude savages of Noolka Sound,
to the degraded tribes of New-Holland iind Van
Dieman's Land, to the wild and wretched Uoshe-
men and Caffres, or to the swarthy s.ons )f Cen-
tral Africa, iii order to be convinced of this la»
mentable truth. We need only to look around
us among the various ranks of our own po| ula»
tioji, and we shall not fail to see ignonuico, in all
its uiversiiied forms, exerting its malign iulliieuc©
over the minds of men, accompanied with siii)er-
slitiun, enthusiasm, bigotry, ititolerance, and every
groveling atfection that can debase the human
mind. Miiilitudes of the young, both in the city
and in the country, are suffered to slioot up from
infancy to manhood, as if they were mere animal
existences, ignorant of the character and opera-
tions of God, of the duties they owe to tlieir Crea-
tor and to one another, aud of the eternal stata
of exi.stencc to which they are destined. Even
in many of those places where instruction is at-
tempted to be communicated, what a pitiful pic-
ture is exhibited of the results of education, and
of the folly w^hich attaches itself to the character
of man! The pronunciation of a number of un-
meaning words, the reciting of passages which
the young cannot understand, the repetition of a
few propositions in religion to which no idcus are
attached, and the casting of a few accounts, are
considered as sufficient to lead them forward in
the path of knowledge and virtue; and are sub-
stituted in the place of those delinite and lumin-
ous instructioiis which are requisite to expatid the
opening intellect, to convey distinct iJeas to the
mind, to unfold the scenes of creation and provi-
dence, to display the character of God, and ta
train up the youthful mind to glory aud immor-
tality.

Now, in reference to the ignorance which pr^
vails in the world, love to man, as an ntelleclual
being, will excite to active endeavors in order tm
counteract its influence. It will prove an excite-
ment to the erection of seminaries of instruction
wherever they are deficient; it will patroni j every
schejne and every exertion by which knowledge
may be increased; aud will diffuse mental illumi-
nation as far as the sphere of its influence ex-
tends. It will not rest satisfied with the form
of instruction, without the substance; with the
elements of language, without the elements of
thought; with the key of knowledge, without
knowledge itself; but will devi.se rational plans
for conveying si/fisfar/f/aZ information to the minds
of the young, so as to win their affections, arrest
tlieir attention, and carry them forward with plea-
sure in the paths of improvement. It will not
offer them stones and ashes instead of bread, but
will spread before them an intellectual feast, and
" feed them with knowledge and understanding."
It will not confine its attention merely to the in-
struction of the young, but will endeavor, by wri-
ting, by conversation, by lectures, by lending and
circulating books, by establishing public libraries,
and by organizing rational and scientific institu-
tions, to diffuse the rays of intellectual light among
men of all ages, ranks, and profos.sions; and will
never ccuse its exertions until ignorance, with all
its degrading accompajiiments, be banished from
societ}-, and until the light of truth illuminnta
the inhabitants of every land. In a word, it will
endeavor to render every branch of .knowledge
subservient to the illustration of the character
and the revelation of God, and to the preparing
of mankind for the employments of tliat noblej
state of existence to which they arc destined.

Again, as man is possessed of an immortal na

PROGRESS OF BENEVOLENCE.

61

tuve and in liis present state of sin and degrada-
tion is exposed (o mist-ry in the fnturo world, so
it is one of the highest oiiiccs of love to endeavor
to proiriote the eternal salvation of mankind. For
tli9 acconij lisiiincnl of thi-i important ohji'ct, all
its activities are concentrated, and all it-s other
labors are rendered subservient. To improve the
physical condition of man as a sensitive being,
and to eidarge his knowledge as an intellectual,
while we overlook his eternal interests, is to ne-
glect one of the most important duties of Chris-
tian philanthropj'. I'he sensitive enjoyments of
man are conJueive to his liai)piness so long as
they continue; and "knowledge is pleasant to the
Boul." But what are all the acquisitions and en-
joyments of time, when compared with the con-
cerns of eternity 1 and what will they avail, if
their possessor bo found unqualified for the em-
ployments of an endless life! If the soul of man
be an immortal principle, and if the least danger
exists of its being de|)rived, tlirougii ignorance
and guilt, of happiness in the future world, no
wofds can express the importance which ought
to be attached to this "labor of love." ''What
will it profit a man if he shall gain the whole
world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man
give in exchange for his soul?" And therefore,
the man in whose breast true benevolence resides,
will consider the eUrnal happiness of his fellow-
immortals as the grand and ultimate object which
ought always to be kept in view, and will exert
all his faculties, powers, and influence, in order
to its accomjdishment. He will not rest satisfied
with prayers and wishes for the salvation of men;
he svil' not wait for any extraordinary afllatus of
the Divine Spirit; but will prosecute with judg-
ment and perseverance that course of active duty,
which has a tendency to produce the desired ef-
fect. So far as the circle of his influence extends,
he will endeavor to instruct the ignorant, to arouse
the careless, to reclaim the dissipated, to convince
the skeptic, to train up the young in the know-
ledge of God and in the paths of virtue, and to
encourage and animate every one who is inquir-
ing the way to eternal life. He will exhibit reli-
gion ill its most amiable, and attractive, and sub-
lime aspects; and will endeavor to iix the atten-
tion on the lovely tempers, and the beneficial
effects which the observance of its precepts has a
tendency to produce. He v^'ill not make it his
chief object to convert men to the belief of certain
metaphysical dogmas in religion, nor to gain them
over to embrace the peculiarities of a party; but
to produce in their minds a cordial acquiescence
In the plan of salvation which the Gospel exhibits,
a reverence of the divine character and perfec-
tions, a desire to cultivate holy temjiers, and a
fixed determination to walk in the paths of God's
commandments.

Such a character will give every due encou-
ragement by his advice and by his wealth to
Christian churches, and to faithful and intelligent
ministers of religion. He will patronize every
rational scheme wliich has for its object to propa-
gate the Gospel of peace among all ntitioiis. He
will encourage the translations of the Scri])tures
into the languages of all kindreds and tribes; he
will give countenance to societies formed for cir-
culating the Bible in foreign lands; and he will
assist in seiuling forth intelligent and philanthro-
pic missionaries to barbarous and unenlightened
tribes, for the pur])ose of diffusing the blessings
of knowledge, civilization, and religion; and he
will rejoice to co-operate in such benevolent
•chemeswilh all who wish to promote the best
mterests of their fellow-men, by whatever name

they are distinguished, and to whatever section
of the Christian church they may belong.

Ill short, love, when genuine and ardent, will
set itself in opposition to every species of bigotry
and intolerance, and to all those pi'tty jealousies
and bitter animosities which liuve so long dis-
tracted the Christian church, which have tluown
an odium on its character, and prevented the har-
monious intercourse of the followers of Jesus. It
will make every sacrifice consistent with the great
objects of Christianity, and will use every appro-
priyte mean to heal the unhappy tivisions which
exist in the religious world, ami to promote an af-
fectionate union of "all who love our Lord Jesus
in sincerity;" in order that the church of Christ
may form one compact harmonious bo^.y, in oppo-
sition to atheists, skeptics, and the men of the
world, and in order that every plan and effort to
diffuse the knowledge and influence of the Chiis-
tiuu religion may be carried more speedily and
more extensively into eifect.

With regard to all the other branches of Chris-
tian morality, and to all the virtues which can
adorn the human character, in every station and
relation in life, they will be found to flow from
the exercise of the principle I have now been
illustrating, as naturally as the sap flows from the
trunk to the remotest ramifications of a tree, or
as the gas which now illuminates our streets and
churches flows from the ni^in gasometer, through
hundreds of pipes, to all the difl'-rent burners.
Sincerity and veracity in our words and action.s,
honesty and fair dealing in trade and commerce,
fidelity to compacts and engagements, a regard to
public liberty, an equitable adnriiiistration of jus-
tice, condescension and kindness to inferiors, re-
verence and respect to superiors, submission to
just laws and regulations, friendship, and a cor-
dial interchange of friendly sentiments and affec-
tions; courtesy, civility, affability, harmony, and
good neighborhood ; modesty, chastity, and dis-
cretion ; forgiveness of injuriei:, hosjdtality to
strangers, humanity to servants and dependents,
compassion to the distressed; parental, filial, and
fraternal affection ; sympathy, generosity, tempe-
rance, and fortitude; together with all the other
social virtues which unite man to man, will as
naturally flow from the fountain of love, when it
exists in the human breast, as water flows from a
reservoir, through all the pipes which fUstribute it
to the inhabitants of a large city. For he who
withholds the exercise of such virtues, or acts in
direct opposition to them, can never be supposed
to he sincerely attached to his fellow-creatures, or
to consult their happiness; and the meaning of
language must be inverted before we can apply
to him the epithet benewlenf ; and the order of the
moral system deranged, before we can exp'ect hap-
piness to flow from such a conduct.

The cardinal virtues have been arranged by
some moralists uiuler the heads of Prudence,
Temperance, Fortitude, and Justice. Prudence
consists in judging what is best, in the choice
both of ends and means, particularly in reference
to our own interests, and to the good or evil
which may result from our choice. Tanperanee
is that virtue which moderates and restrains the
sensual appetites. Fortitude is that calm and
steady habit of the mind which either enables iia
bravely to encounter the prospect of ill, or ren-
ders us serene and invincible under its immediate
pressure. Justice is that virtue whieh impels us
to give to every person what is his liue. Now, it
could easily be shown, that love is the impelling
principle which excites to the ev^^rcise of all theas

62

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

virtues. It will lead us to pay a diift regard to onr
own comfort aiui interest, but not so us to inter-
fere witli the interests or to obstruct (lie liappiuess
of otlicrs. It will lead) us to preserve the domi-
nion ol" the soul over sense and passion, and to
restrain tlie influence of the sensual appetites,
from considerations drawn from our own happi-
ness, and from the good of others. For, as in-
temperance kindles the lire of resentment and the
flames of lust, excites to boisterous words and to
lawless actions, wastes the substuncc and reduces
families to wretchedness an.l ruin, it must be di-
rectly ot)posed to the principle of benevolence. It
will inspire us with a generous and heroic indif-
ference to the precmious possessions of this mor-
tal scene, and will excite to activity and perse-
verance in promoting human happiness, in the
face of every difficulty and obstruction, and in
spite of obstinacy and ingratitude, and of all the
sneers and reproaches that may be thrown out
Upon us on account of the singularity of our con-
duct. And as Justice is nothing else than liie
measure of henemlcnce, it will uniiornily direct us
to give to every one his due, and restrain us from
withholding from our neighbor anytiiing to which
he is entitled by equity or by law. And in cases
where the division of property is concerned, it
will in many instances be induced to relinquish
its right when only a few paltry pounds or shil-
lings are at stake, rather than run the risk of dis-
solving the bonds of afiection and friendship.

The duties of morality have by other moralists,
particularly by the moderns, been arranged into
the duties we owe to God, as piety, reverence, and
confidence ; the duties we owe to oilier men, as
fidelity, loyalty, humanity, and justice; and the
duties we owe to ourselves, as chastity, sobriety,
and temperance. From what has been already
slated, both in tiiis and in several of the preceding
sections, it will obviously appear, that all these
classes of duties necessarily flow from the opera-
tion of that primary, diftusive, and ever active
principle, which resides originally in the Eternal
Mind, and which pervades tlie minds of all holy
intelligences.

Finally, The man who is animated by the
noble principle of benevolence, will endeavor to
discharge with fidelity every social and relative
duty, and will feel an interest in the domestic
comfort and the moral and religious improvement
of all around hi;a. He will display the activities
of tins holy affection more immediately in the
family in whicli he resides, as a friend, a father, a
husband, a son, or a brother; pei-forming with
punctuality all the duties which such relations
include ; i)romoting unity, harmony, aliVction,
and a reciprocal interchange of all those offices of
kindness, which tend to secure mutual confidence,
pleasure, and improven^.ent. From the family,
his affections will b'e diffused to the neighborhood
aroun I, in all the forms of kindness, compassion,
faithfulness, forgiveness, charity, generosity, hu-
manity, and justice. He will contemplate every
member of society as a kinsman and a brother;
he will feel a fraternal attachment ; he will
delight in his success and prosperity, and will en-
deavor to encourage the social virtues, r.nd to
multiply the sources of enjoyment wherever his
influence extends. From the circle of his imme-
diate neighborhood, Ids affections will extend over
all the nation to which he belongs. Its prospe-
rity ani advancement in arts, sciences, and legis-
lation, its peace and tranquillitj', and the wisdom
and reclilUi.? oi its rulers, will be the object of
nis fervent prayers to the God of heaven. To
wa*ch over its interests, to promote the improve-

ment of its constitution and its laws, to expose
the intrigues of bribery and corruption, to r.'sist
the efforts of tyranny and ambition, an I to dffcat
every cncroaclnnent on its rights and liberties, in
a manly and Christian manner, he will consider
as a duty which he owes tc his fellow-subjects, to
his rulers, and to succee(.ing generations. It
will be his chief aim, not so much to prevent men
from becoming thieves, and robbers, and murder-
ers, as to make them pious, virtuous, and useful
members of the general community; that every
one may live " a quiet and peaceable life, in all
godliness and honesty."

Nor will his benevolence be confined within
the limits of a narrow-minded and selfish patriot-
ism:— his affections will expand to surrounding
nations, and embrace the interests of every people,
and will excite him to co-operate in every scheme
by which civilization and science, liberty and Chris-
tianity, may be promoted among all the tribes
and kindreds of the earth. He will occasionally
transport himself in imagination to oistanl climes,
and to the islands scattered over the face of the
ocean, — and the joy or sorrow which is f dt in the
hut of the Greenlander, in the Indian wigwam,
or among the tejits of the Tartars, will find ac-
cess to his feeling heart. An inundation, an
eartl'.quake, the eruption of a volcano, a destroy-
ing pestilence, or the horrors of war, happening
in Persia, China, or Japan, will not be viewed
with ai)athy or indifference, because those coun-
tries are placed thousands of miles be3'ond the
boundaries of his own; but he will sympathize in
the sorrows of those distant sufferers, as well as
in the calamities which befall his brethren in hia
native land. Nor will his affections be confined
to the men of the present age, but will streich for-
ward to embrace the sons and daughters of future
ti(ycs, who are destined to appear on the theater
i of this world, in successive generations, until
time shall be no longer. The plans which he
now forms, the ground-works of the improve-
ments which he is now establishing, and the di-
versified operations of benevolence in which he is
now engaged, will have for their ultimate object,
the diffusion of the light of science and of reli-
gion, and the communication of haj>piness, in
various forms, to unnumbered multitudes of the
human race, after his spirit shall have taken its
tiight beyond the bounds of this terrestrial sphere.
Nor will the current of his love toward fellow-
intelligences be bounded by the Unfits of time,
and the range of this sublunary system, but will
run forward into those interminable ages, which
shall succeed tiie dissolution of ou- globe, and
will rise upward to the inliabitants of those glori-
ous worlds wdiich roll in the distant regions of
creation. Contemplating the diversified scenes in
which he may hereafter be placed, and the various
orders of intellectual beings with wliich he may
mingle, his soul will be transported at the prospect
of entering upon a more exteiisive field for the
range of his benevolent affections, and of being
qualified to receive and to communicate happiness
on a more enlarged scale, in company willi other
holy intelliger.ces, — where the field of benevolence
will be continually expanding, and the most ex-
quisite delight springing up in his bosom, and ever
increasing, as eternal ages are rolling on.

Thus, it appear.s, that Benevolence is an expan-
sive and an ever active principle, diffusing happi-
ness in its train wherever it extends. Were an
extensive moral machinery to be set in action by
this powerful principle, it is impossible to describe
what a variety of bb-ssings would soon be dis-
tributed among mankind, and what a mighty

MORAL SYSTEMS

63

changa would, be effected in the social state of hu-
man lioings, and on the wholo a-pect of the moral
world. And from what has been aireiirly Ftatcd,
it is evident, that, although) iiitclli.'Ctual talent,
wealth, and influence, have most in tlunr power,
as the prime directors of tli? inond nuiciiine, —
yet there 'n no individual in whom this principle
resides, however limited his faculties, and liis
sphere of action, but has it i i his power to com-
municate happiness to his fellow creature.^, and to
become at least a subordinate agent in promoting
tlie plans of universal benevolence.

From what has been staled above, and in seve-
ral of the preceding parts of tiiis work, we may
learn, that, in order to acquire a knowledge of
our duly, and of the motives which should stimu-
late us to its performance, there is no need to en-
gage in the study of voluminous systems of ethi-
cal science, or to perplex the mind with labored
disquisitions on the principles of morals. The
general path of duty is plain to every one who is
inclined to walk in it; and whoever wishes to be
assisted and directed in his progress toward moral
perfection, will find, in the Proverbs of Solomon,
the sermons of Jesus Christ, and the practical
parts of the apostolic epistles, maxims, and pre-
cepts, and motives inculcated, iniinitely superior
in regard both to their authority and their excel-
lence, to those of all other systems of moral phi-
losopliy, whether in ancient or in modern times.
This seems to be partly admitted even by mo-
ral philosophers themselves. The celebrated Dr.
Reid, in his " Essays on the Active Powers of
Man," after a variety of le.irned and abstract dis-
cussions on active power, and the principles of
human action, when treating on the theory of
morals, says, " This is an intricate subject, and
tJiere have been various theories and mucli con-
troversy about it in ancient and in modern times.
But it has little connection with the knowledge
of our duty, and those who differ most in the
theory of our moral powers, agree in the practi-
cal rules of morals which they dictate. As a
man may be a good judge of colors, and of the
other visible qualities of objects, v>ithout any
knowledge of the anatomy of tl-.e eye, and of ihe
theorv of vision; so a rnan may have a very clear
and comprehensive knowledge of what is riglit
and of what is wrong in human conduct, wiio
never studied the structure of our moral powers.
A good ear in music may be much im|)roved by
attention and practice in that art; but very little
by studying the anatomy of the ear, and the tlic-
ory of sound. In order to acquire a good eye, or
a good ear, in the arts that requite thtMu, the the-
ory of vi.~ion, and the theory of sound, are by no
means neces.«ary, and indeed of very little use.
Of as litiy. necessifji nr use is what ice call the theo-
ry of viorak, in order to improve our moral judg-
ment.''''— RErn, " On the Active Powers,'''' Essay v.
chap. 2.

To a man who is familiar with tiie Scriptures,
and whose mind Iris acquired a relish for the sim-
plicity and excellence of the Christian code of
morals, how cold, and frigid, and uninteresting,
do the labored disquisitions of our most celebrated
ethical writers appear! There is little to be found
in suci) wiitings to kindle the fire of holy love,
and to inspire the soul with a noble ardor, in car-
rying forward the plan of divine benevolence. —
What powerful stimulus to exalted virtue ^an be
expected from abstract discussions on aclivt^
power, on liberty and necessity, on theories of
moral action, on the reason and fitness of things,
on self-love, on public and private interest, on the

law of honor, and tlie like; and of how little
practical utility are the results of such disquisi-
tions; since every principle of action, every mo-
tive, and every duty conducive to the hapjdnes*
of the intelligent system, is laid down in tli«
Scriptures, with a plainness and per.-^jjicuity,
which render tiiem level to the meanest undcr-
standi:)g? And what shall we say of those mo-
ralists who teach us, that "modesty, humility,
and forgiveness of injuries," belo!\g to the class
of vices;* and, by consequence, that pride, im-
prudence, and revenge, are to be ranked among
the virtues'. Such virtue, alas! has too long pre-
vailed in our degenerate world; but were it uni-
versally to prevail, it would transform creation
into a chaos, and banish happiiiess from the uni-
verse. What beneficial practical effects have
ever yet been produced by all the systems of
ethics which have hitherto been published to the
world? Let us lock back on tlie nations of an-
tiquity, on the schools of Plato, Socrates, Epicu-
rus, and Zeno; let us sun'ey the conduct of our
modern skeptical philosophers, and the practices
of our youths who attend courses of ethical lec-
tures in our universities and academies, and say,
whether the general depravity of human nature
has been counteracted, and a spirit of universal
benevolence has been cherished and promoted by
such instructions. I venture to affirm , that we
are far more indebted to our Saviour's sermon on
the mount, and to the practical writings of the
apostle Paul, for that portion of morality which
has given a polish to the manners of modern so-
ciety, than to all the systems of ethics, detached
from Christianity, which have ever been publish-
ed by the philosophers either of Greece or Rome,
or of the British empire: and that it is only by
following out the instructions of these divine
teachers that we can expect to see the world re-
generated, and vice and iniquity banished from
our streets.

Li throwing out the preceding hints, I have
confined my attention chiefly to the intelligent
creation. But it is evident, that where a princi-
ple of genuine love actuates the mind, it will ex-
tend its benevolent regards even to the lower
orders of animated existence. Toward them the
Creator has displaj'ed his benevolence, as well as
toward man. He has framed their botiics in as
curious and admirable a manner, as the bodies of
mankind. He has bestowed upon them organs
of sensation exactly adapted to the situations
they occupy, and to their various modes of subsist-
ence. Pie has formed them witii instincts which
enable them to construct their habitations, to
select their food, to protect themselves from dan-
ger, and to choose the fittest places for bringing
forth their young. He has provided, in the dif-
ferent departments of nature, all that variety of
food wliich is requisite to supply the wants of the
whole of that immense assemblage of living be-
ings which traverse the air, the waters, and the
earth. "These all wait upon Him, and he giveth
them their meat in due season." Their s])ortiTe
motions, their varied movements, and the delight
with which they seem to exercise llu-ir faculties,
testify, tliat they are the objects of the benefi-
cence of their Almighty though unknown Maker.
So that God not only takes care of m''n, but of
the fishes of the sea, the cree{)ing insects, and the
fowls of heaven, for "a sparrow cannot fall to
the ground" without his providential permission.
This benevolent care of the Creator, which

* Thii sentiment is taoght by Mr. Hume, and his follower*.

61

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

extends to tliP lowest order of his creatures, in- !
Btriicts us, that our benevolence also should be
displayed toward the inferior ranks of sent^iiive
existence — tliat we should not only abstain from
vexing, and torturing, and unnecessarily de])riv-
ing tliein of exist>^nce; but should endeavor to
promote their comfort and enjoyment. It was
liie object of several of the laws delivered to the
Jews, to inculcate compassion and humanity
toward their domestic animals: and Solomon lays
it down as a moral maxim, that " the rigliteous
man regurdeth the life of his beast." Jienevo-
lence will liisplay itself, in the shape of tender-
ness and humanity toward every creature that is
endowed with feeling and sensation; but i1 can-
not be supposed to have a powerful influence over
that man who can wantoidy torture a poor fly,
lash a fvelde old horse, wound a bird or hare for
mere sport, twirl a cockchatFer on a crooked pin,
or even intentionally trample under foot a snail
or a worm, that is doing him no injury. The be-
nevolent man rejoices in the happiness of all cre-
ation around him; and, were this disposition uni-
versally prevalent, not oulj' should we see cock-
fighting, dog-fighting, bull-baiting, and other cruel
and degrading sports forever abolished, but should
form a more delightful intercourse with many of
the lower animals than we have ever yet enjoyed.
The Arahiarts never beat their horses; they never
cut their tails; they treat them gentlj^; they speak
to them, and seem to hold a discourse; they use
them as friends; they never attempt to increase
their speed by the whip, n.or spur them but in
cases of great necessity. Tliey never fix them to
a stake in the fields, but suffer them to pasture at
large around their habitations; and they come
running the moment they hear the sound of their
master's voice. In consequence of such treat-
ment, these animals become docile and tractable
in the highest degree. They resort at night to
their tents, and lie down in the midst of the chil-
dren, without ever hurting them in the slightest
degree. The little boys and girls are often seen
upon the body or the neck of tlie mare, while the
beasts continue inoffensive and harmless, permit-
ting them to play with and caress them without
injury. — Several species of birds have a natural
attachment to the habitations of man; but liis
malevolence prevents them from entering into
any intimate and friendly association; for they
seem to be fully aware of his guns, and snares,
and other arts of destruction, which make them
shy, even in cases of necessity, of trusting them-
selves to his generosity and protection. How
many amusing and instructive associations might
be formed with this class of animals, if the kind-
ness and benevolence of m in were to secure their
confidence! Even the heists of the forest, the
elephant, the lion, and the tiger,* have had their
ferocious dispositions softened by kindness and
attention, and have become the protectors and the
friends of man.

Although the lower animals seem to be inca-
pable of making improvements when left to thcm-
Belves, yet experience has proved, that, under tlie
tuition of man, they are cap ibb» of making can-
Biderable advancement in knnwieilge, and in the
exercise of the benevolent affections. Kindness
ana diTection will frequently soften the most
savage and obdurate dispositions among mankind;
and it is not improbable, that a judicious and uni-

• An experiment was lately exhi'iiteil, bv the keeper of
Uie animals ic tlie Tower of Lond >n, wliirh demonstrates,
that even the tiger is capable of being tamed, and rendered
tasceptible of friendly feelings toward man.

versal disj)lay of friendly attentions toward those
animals which occasionally associate with masi,
would go far to counteract their mulevol'.Mit pro-
pensities, and to prontoto llieir harmony and af-
fection. I never was more dcligliteil with an ex-
hibition of animals than on a late occasion, when 1
behtdd a cat, a bird, and a?);ou,5e,living in the samo
cage, in the most cordial harmony and p;'ace — a
fact which demonstrates that the strongtst anti-
pathies of the animal tribes may be ov.rcome by
the care antyittention of man. And as such an
experimentcould not have been attempted with
success, except when these animals were very
young, it shows us the immense importance of
an early attention to the training of our youth in
habits of kindness and afiectiou toward each
other, and of humanity toward every sensitive
being; and that it ought to be the great care of
parents, nurses, and servants, to counteract the
first appearance of malevolent dispositions in very
early life, however trivial the circumstances in
which such dispositions are manifested.

The famous Baron Trenck, when confined in
his dungeon in IMagdeburg, had so tamed a mouse,
that it would play round him, and, eat round him,
and eat from his mouth. When he whistled, it
would come and jump upon his shoulder. After
his cruel keepers had given orders that he should
be deprived of its society, and had actually taken
it away blindfolded, it found its way back again
to the door of his dungeon, waited the hour of
visitation, when the door would be opened, and
immediately testified its joy, by its antic leaping
between his legs. This mouse was afterward
carried off, and put into a cage, where it pined,
refused all sustenance, and, in a few days, was
found dead. " In this small animal," saj's the
Baron, "I discovered proofs of intelligence too
gi'eat to easily gain belief. Were I to write them,
such philosophers as suppose man alone endowed
with the power of thought, allowing nothing but
what they call instinct in anitnals, would pro-
claim me a fabulous writer, and my opinions hete-
rodox to what they suppose sound philosophy." — ,
A nobleman of France, a Count Lauzan, was con-
demned to a rigid imprisonment. Cut off from
all human society, and allowed no means of di-
verting his solitude, he made a companion of a
spider, who had spun her web in the corner of his
cell. He at length familiarized her so far, that
she would come upon his hand, and eat from it a
portion of his food which he gave her. The
jailer, totally devoid of feeling, thought this too
great an indulgence for the unfortunate prisoner,
and crushed the spider to death.

Many such instances could be brought forward
to illustrate the affection of the inferior tribes,
and their capability of improvcm'-nt. But al-
though they were entirely destitute of mental
qualities and affections, as they are sensitive be-
ings, susceptible of pleasure and pain, the truly
benevolent man will never intentionally inflict
upon them unnecessary pain, and far less will he
ever enjoy a savage delight, like some monsters
in human shape, in beholding them writhing un-
der the agonies occasioned by barbarous tieat-
ment. He will feel a joy in their comfort, and
will endeavor to counteract their maligaent pio*
pensities, and to train them up in those i bits by
which they may be rendered useful to nijn, and
pleasing to each other. Were such a kind and
iuimane disposition toward the lower animals
generally to prevail, we might ultimytely expect
the literal accomplishment of those i>rcdiction8
recorded in ancient prophesy: — " In that day will
I make a covenant for them with the beasts of

I

MORAL LAW.

6b

tho ficM, and wilh the fowls of heaven, and with
tlio crrtt-piug tliinyjs of the ground; and I will
break tiiu bow and tho sword, and the battle out
of thc> eartli. and will inalie thoni to lie down
safely." " 1 will cause the evil beasts to cease out
of tiie l:nid, and tliey shall dwell saf.'ly in the wild-
erness, ami fileci) in the woods." " The wolf shall
dwell wii.i the lamb: the cow and the bear shall
feod in one pasture, and their young ones shall
lie down together; the sucking child shall play
on thv! hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall
put his iiand on the adder's den. They shall not
hurt nor liostroy in all my holy mountain, saith
the Lord."

Th.^ remarks which have been stated in this
Bcclijii, i!) reference to tho practical influence of
the priiiciple of benevolence, are intended merely
as a few insulated hints in regard to some of the
mo-i"a in wliich it may be made to operate. ^l"o
illustrite its operation in detail, aii.l to trace its
proiTj-css in all its diversified bearings and ramiii-
catio!)s, would be, to write a Body of Practical
Morality, which would fill several volumes — a
work which is still a desideratum in Chri.-lian
literature. I cannot conclude this cliapter more
appropriately than with the following excellent
passage, extracted from Dr. Dwighfs " System of
Theology."

•' The divine law is wholly included in two pre-
cepts: Tiuju shalt love the Lord thy God loith all
thy heart; and thy nciyhbor as thyself. Those are
BO short, as to be necessarily included in a verj'
short sentence; so iutellujihle, as to be understood
by every moral being who is capable of compre-
hending tlie meaning of the words God and

neighbor; so eaxihjnmeynbered as to render it im
possitile for them to escape from our memory, un-
less by wanton, criminal negligence of ours; and
so easily applicalile to every case nf moral action, aa
not to be mistaken unless through indisposition
to obey. At tho same time, obedience to them is
rendered perfectly obmous and perfectly easy to
every miud which is not indisposed to obey them.
The very uisposiiion itself, if sincere and entire,
is eitl'.er entire obedience, or the unfailing means
of that external conduct by vvhicli the obi'ilience
is in some cases completed. 'J'he di-pot^itioa to
obey is also confined to a sin<,'lc affection nf the heart,
easily oislinguislied from all other affections, viz.
lone. Love, saith St. Paul, is the fulfilling of the
law. The luimblest and most ignorant moral
creatures, therefore, are in this manner efficacious-
ly preserved from mistaking their duty.

" In the meantime, these two precepts, notwith-
standing their brevity, are so comprehensive as to
include every possible action. I'he archangel ia
not raised above their control, nor can any action
of his exceed that bound which they prescribe. —
The child who has passed the verge of moral
agency, is not placed beneath their regulation:
and whatever virtue he may exercise, is no other
than a fulfilling of their requisitions. All the
duties which we immediately owe to God, to our
fellow-creatures, and to ourselves, are, by these
precepts, alike comprehended and required. In a
word, endlessly varied as moral action may be, it
exists in no form or instance in which he whe
perfectly obeys these precepts will not have done
his duty, and will not find himself justified and
accepted by God."

CHAPTER III.

ON TIIE MORAL LAW AND THE RATIONAL GROUNDS ON WHICH ITS PRE-
CEPTS ARE FOUNDED.

In the preceding chapters, I have endeavored
to illustrate the foundation of love to God, from
a consi.ieration of his attributes, and the relations
In v.'hiah he stands to his creatures. I have also
illuFtrifed the rational grounds of love to our
neighbor, from a consideration of the natural
equality of mankind, of the various relations in
which tliey stand to one another, and of their
eternal destination. The dismal consequences
which would result from a total subversion of
these bjws, the beneficial effects which would flow
from their universal operation, their application
to the iiiliibitants of other worlds, the declara-
tions of s(ri[)ture on this subject, and the various
mo ios in which benevolence should display its
activities, have also been the subject of conside-
ration.

Tl"? two principles now illustrated, may be
cori.ini"red as two branches proceeding from the
■amo trunk, and spreading into ditTercnt ramifi-
cations. The first four commandments of tho
moral law may be viewed as flowing from the
principle of love to God, and the remaining six
as ramifications of the principle of benevolence,
or love to man. In the following brief illustra-
tions, I shall endeavor to show tho reasonableness
of these moral laws in relation to man, from a
cohsiilemtion of the misery v/hich would necessa-
rily result from their universal violation, and of the

happiness which would flow from universal obe-
dience to their requisitions.

These laws were published in the most solemn
manner, to the assembled tribes of Israel in the
wilderness of Horeb. While mount Sinai was
shaking to its center, and smoking like a furnace;
while flames of fire were ascending from its sum-
mit, and thick darkness surrouncing its base;
while thunders were rolling in clouiis above, and
lightnings flashing amidst the surrounding gloom;
and while the eartli was quaking all around, and
the voice of a trumpet waxing louder and louder, —
in the miJst of this solemn and terrific scene, God
spake the commandments willi an aUiiilde articu-
late voice, in the hearing of the trembling multi-
tude assembled round the mountain. A combi-
nation of objects and events more awful and im-
pressive, the human mind can scarcely conceive;
compared vi-ilh wliich, the pretended pomp of
Pag.'in deities, and Jupiter shaking Olympus with
his imperial nod, are lame, ridiculous, and pro
fane; and never, perhaps, since the commence-
ment of time, was such a striking scene |>re-
sented to the view of any of the inliabitants of
this world. The most solemn jircparalions were
made for this divine manifestation; the people of
Israel were commanded to purify themselves from
every mental and corporeal pollution, and strictly
enjoined to keep within tho boundaries marked

66

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

out for thorn, and not rush witliin the limits as-
signed to these avvl'iil sym!)ols of the Deity. An
as3ein!)l:iirt> of culestial beings, from anotiier re-
gion of creation, was present on this occasion, to
perform important services, to swi-ll the grandeur
of the scene, and to be witness of the impressive
transactions of that solemn day.* "" Moses was
appointed as a temporary mediator between God
and the people, to explain to them in mildar terms
the words of the hiw, anil the further intimutions
of the divine will. Yet so terrible were the sym-
bols of the present D -ity, that even I\Ioaes was
appalled, and said, '-I exceedingly fear and
quake." In onler that tlie impressive words
which were uttered on that day might not be for-
gotten in future generatioiis, they were written
on tables of stone with llio finger of God. Tlioy
were n.ot simply drawn on a plane, like the strokes
of wriiing u.pou paper, but *.he characters were
enc/raoed, or cut out of the solid stone, so that
they could not be erased. They were not written
on paper or parchment, or even on wood, but on
stone, which is a much more durable muterial. —
"The tables were written upon both their s'des, on
the one side, and on the other were they written;
and the tables were tlie work of God, and the
writing was the writing of God, graven upon the
tab!es."t Tiiis was intended to prevent the pos-
sibility of anything being added to the law, or
taken from it. I'he tables were two in number,
the one containing the precepts which inculcate
love to God, and the other containing those which
enjoin the love of our neighbor. These laws,
thus engraven on the most durable materials, were
deposited in the most sacred part of the taberna-
cle, in the ark of tiie covenant under the mercy-
seat. All the striking circumstances, now men-
tioned, were evidently intended to proclaim the
Majesty and Grandeur of the Supremo Legislator
— the'excellency and perfection of his law — that
it is the eternal and unalterable rule ol rectitude —
that it is of perpetual obligation on all the inha-
bitants of ihe earth — that it is the rule of action
to angels ana archangels, and to all other moral
intelligences, as well as to the human race — and
that the most dreadful consequences must ensue
on all those who persist in violating its righteous
precepts.

Tiie proclamation of this law was prefaced by
these words, '• I am Jehovah thy God," which
contain a ground and reason for our obedience
They eviaently imply, that he is the Self-existent
and Eternal Being who brought this vast universe
into existence, who " garnished the heavens, and
laid the foundations of the earth," and peopled all
worlds with thc'r inhabitants — that he has sove-
reign authoritj t9 prescribe a rule of action to his
creatures — that ne knows best what laws are
requisite to preserve the order of his vast empire,
and to secure the happiness of the intelligent cre-
ation— that he is the former of our bodies, the
Fath(»r of our spirits, and the director of all the
movements of nature and providence, from whose
unceasing agency every joy proceeds — and that
all his regulations and arrangements are calcu-
lated to promote the present and everlasting felicity

* S^ep}len says, tint the Jews " received the law by the
ilisposition of angels." Grotius observes, on this passage,
that the Greek preposition [C!.s] here signifies amidst, and
tliat {diatd^iu: agcloii], denotes troops of angels ranged in
military order; ami th^it there is a reference to Ueut. xxxiii.
2. " The Lord came from ?inai, and rose up from i^eirunto
theiT.; he shined forth from .'lonnt Paran, and he came with
ten thousands of his holy ones; tioin his right hand went a
fiory law for them."

t £xod. zsxii. 45.

I of all rational agents that submit to his authority
I • — That these laws are not mere acts of l>ivin«
I Sovereignty, but founded on the nature of things
and are calculated to preserve the harmony a.i\i
[ order of the int -liigent universe, will appear from
j the following illustrations and remarks.

THE FIIIST COMMA.NMIENT.

«' Thou shalt hane no other gods before me."

All the commandments, except the fourth an4
fifth, are expressed in a negatioe form: But it ia
obvious, that every negative command includes a
requisition of the duty which is oj)po3ad to the
sin forbidden; and those which are pos'dlcs include
a prohibition of the conduct which is opposed to
the duty required. This first commMndment,
therefore, though expressed in the negative form,
must be considered as including a positive injunc-
tion to love God with all our hearts, to offer a
tribute of supreme adoration to his perfections,
and to exercise the graces of hope, gratitude,
submission, and reverence. Having already con-
sidered the precept in this point of view (pp. 66 —
74), it is only necessary, in this place, to attend
foj a little, to the negatioe form of the command.
The prohibition contained in this precept must bo
considered as extending not only to Polytheism,
and the various objects of worsliip which have
prevailed in the heathen world, but to everything
which is the object of our supreme affection and
regard.

It is a dictate of enlightened and unprejudiced
reason, that the Being to whom we are indebted
for our existence, on whom we every moment de-
pend, who directs the movements of the system
of nature, who daily loads us with his benefits,
and on whom our hopes of eternal felicity entirely
depend — should be contemplated with the most
ardent aifection and gratitude, regarded as the
most excellent and venerable of all beings, and
recognized as the Supreme Leg^lator, whose
laws we are bound, by every tie of gratitude, to
obey. Wherever such sentiments and affections
pervade the mind, they constitute the first prin-
ciples of piety, the source of all holy obedience,
and the foundation of all true happiness. Were
they universally felt, and acted upon by human
beings, the Most High God would be adored in
every land, his image would be impressed on every
heart, his righteous law would never be violated,
groveling desires and afTections would be eradica-
ted, and our world would be transformed into an
abode of felicity, where joys similar to those of
angels would succeed to scenes of wretchedness
and woe.

On the other hand, where the unity and the
attributes of the divine being are not recognized,
and where other objects are substituted in his
place, the foundations of religion, and of moral
order are completely subverted, and a door
opened for the introduction of every absurdity,
immorality, and vile abomination, that can de-
grade a rational intelligence. The command
under consideration is placed on the fron of the
divine law as the foundation of all tho othel
precepts; and, therefore, wherever it is violated,
or not recognized, a regular obedience to the other
subordinate injunctions of religion is not, in the
nature of things, to be expected. Were its viola-
tion, in our world, complete and universal, it is
impossible to say what would be the miserable
condition of human beings in their social capacity
To its general violation, may be traced all the
evils under which humanity has groaned in evenr

MORAL LAW.

67

■ge, and al. tho depraved passions, and shocking
immoralities which now disfigure the aspect of the
moral world.

There is nothing that appears more ])rominent
in the liistorv and the character of almost every
nation under heaven, than an infringement of
this fi -st and fundamental law of the Creator.
A rational and enlightened mind, on the first con-
sideration of this suhject, would he apt to surmise,
that sucli a law is ahnost superfluous and unne-
cessary. There is such an immense disproportion
between a block of marble, or a crawling reptile,
and thai Being who supports the system of uni-
versal nature, that it appears, at first view, next
to impossible, that a reasonable being should ever
become so stupid and degraded, as to substitute the
one for the other, and to offer his adorations to an
object completely devoid of life, power, and intel-
ligence. Yet experience teaches us, that there is
no disposition to which the human mind is more
prone than "to depart from the living God," and
to multiply objects of idolatrous worship. This
win appear, if we take but the slightest glance of
tlie objects of adoration which have prevailed, and
which sUll prevail in the pagan world.

At one period of the world, with the single
exception of the small nation of the Jews, idolatry
overspread the face of the whole earth. And how
numerous and degrading wtTe the objects which
the blinded nations adored! We are informed, by
Hesiod, Varro, and other ancient authors, that no
less than thirty thousand subordinate divinities
were comprised within that system of idolatry
which prevailed among the Greeks and Romans.
They had both celestial and terrestrial deities.
They assigned peculiar gods to the fountains, the
rivers, the hills, the mountains, the lawns, the
groves, the sea, and even to hell itself. To cities,
Eelds, houses, edifices, families, gates, nuptial
chambers, marriages, birtiis, deaths, sepulchers,
trees, and gardens, they also appropriated distinct
and peculiar deities. Their principal celestial dei-
ties were Jupiter, Mars, Mercury, Apollo, Bac-
chus, Venus, Juno, and Minerva — their terrestrial,
Saturn, Ceres, Diana, Neptune, Cybele, Proser-
pine, and Pluto. Their chief idol was Jupiter,
wliom they called the father of gods and men;
and under his authoritj', Neptune had the jurisdic-
tion of the sea, Juno, of the air, Cybele, of the
earth, and Pluto, of the realms below. Instead of
worshiping the living and immortal God, they dei-
fied a host of dead men, called heroes, distinguished
for nothing so much, as for murder, adultery,
sodomy, rapine, drunkenness, and all kinds of de-
bauchery. To such contemptible divinities, splen-
did temples were erected,* adorations addressed,
costly offerings presented, and rites and ceremo-
nies performed, subversive of every principle of
decency and morality, and degrading to the reason
and the character of man. — A system of idblatry
of a similar kind, though under a different form,
prevailed among the Egyptians. The meanest
and the most contemptible objects — sheep, cats,
bulls, dogs, cows, storks, apes, vultures, and other
oirds of prey; wolves, and several sorts of o.ven,
were e.xalted as objects of adoration. "If you go
into Egypt," says Lucian, " you will see Jupiter
with the face of a ram, Mercury as a fine dog. Pan,

•The temple of Diana at Ephcsiis, has been always ad-
mired as one of the noblest pieces of archket'ture that tlie
world ever produced. It was 452.) feet long, 200 feet broad,
and supported by 127 columns of marble 60 feet high; 27 of
which were beautifiilly carved. Diodorus Siciilns mentions,
'Jhat the rich presents made to the temple of Jljiollo at Ijel-
phos, amounted to one million three hundred and thirty-three
UiODsand pounds.

Vol. I.— 21

is become a goal; another god is Ihis, another thfl
crocodile, and another the ape. There, many
shaviMi priests gravely tell us, that the gods being
L Vaid of the rebellion of the giants, assumed
th so shapes." Each city and district in Egypt
ent -tained a peculiar devotion for some animal
or 01 er, as the oi)ject of its adoration. The city
of Lei. 'opolis worshiped alien; tlie city of Mendcz,
a goal ; Mempiiis, the Apis; and the people at the
lake My. ■*', adored the crococlile. Tliese animals
were mai tained, in or near their temples, with
delicate mc ts; were bathed, anointed, perfumed,
had beds pre lared for them; and when any of
them happened to die, sum[)luous funerals were
prepared in honor of the god. Of all these animals,
the bull, Apis, was held in the greatest veneration.
Honors of an extraordinary kind were conferred
on him while he lived, and his death gave rise to
a general mourning. *

Such was the abominable idolatry that prevail-
ed even among the most enlightened nations of
antiquity. They changed the glory of the incor-
ruptible God into " the similitude of an ox that
eateth grass," and into images made like to cor-
ruptible man and to birds, and to four-footed
beasts, and creeping things. And if the Egyp-
tians, the Greeks, and the Romans, who are dis-
tinguished from the rest of the world for their
improvements in literature, science, and the arts,
had so far renounced their allegiance to tlie God
of heaven, we may rest assured that the sur-
rounding nations were sunk still farther into the
pollutions of idolatry and of mental debasement.
The Phenicians, the Syrians, the Canaanites, the
Chaldeans and Babylonians, the Arabians, the
Scythians, the Ethiopians, and the Carthaginians,
the ancient Gauls, Germans, and Britons, v^^ere,
if possible, more deeply debased; and mingled
with their idolatrous rites, many cruel, obscene,
and vile abominations. — Such is still the moral
and religious debasement, even in moden times,
of the greater part of the nations which dwell
upon the earth. Even the Hindoos, the Birmans,
the Chinese, the Persians, and the Japanese,
though ranked among the most polished nations
of tho heatiien world, are sunk into the grossest
ignorance of the true God, and are found perpe-
trating, in their religious worship, deeds revolting
to humanity, and stained with horrid cruelty and
injustice.

Tiie moral effects which were produced by a
departure from this fundamental law of the Crea-
tor, were such as correspond with the abomina-
tions of that religions system which was adopted,
Man is an imiUitive being; and he generally imi-
tates the actions of those whom he conceives to
be placed in a sui)erior rank and station. When,
tlierefore, the gods were introduced to his view,
as swollen with pride, mad with rage, fired with
revenge, inflamed with lust, engaged in wars,
battles, and contests, delighting in scenes of blood
and rapine, in hatred and mutual contentions,
and in all kinds of riot and debauchery, it was
natural to suppose that such piussions and crimei
would be imitated by their blinded votaries. Ac-
cordingly we find, that such vices universally
prevailed, even among the politest nations of an-
tiquity; and some of their sacred rites, solemnized
in honor of their gods, were so bestial and shock-
ing, as to excite horror in every mind possessed
of the least sense of decency and virtue. They
gloried in the desolation and destruction of neigh-
boring nations. To conquer, and oppress, and
enslave their fellow-m«n, and to aggrandize them-
selves by slaughter and rapine, was the great ob-
ject of their ambition. Tiie law of kindness and .

68

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

of universal benevolence was trampled under
foot, and even the coinmon dictates of limnauity,
equity, and justice, were set at defiance. IJut
tliis was not all — Idolatry soon hejjan to instigate
its votaries to the perpetration of the most revolt-
ing and unnatural cruelties. Dreadful tortures
were inflicted on their bodies, to appease their
offended deities; human victims, in vast numbers,
were sacrificed, and even their infants and little
children were thrown into the flames, as an offer-
ing to the idol which they adored.

The Mexicans were accustomed to treat them-
selves with the most inhuman austerities, think-
ing that the diabolical rage of their deities would
be appeased by human blood. "It makes one
shudder," says Clavigero, " to read the austerities
which they practiced upon themselves, either in
atonement for their transgressions, or in prepara-
tion for their festivals. They mangled their flesh
as if it had been insensible, and let their blood
'run in such profusion, as if it had been a super-
fluous fluid in the body. They pierced them-
selves with the sharpest spines of the aloe, and
bored several parts of their bodies, particularly
tlieir ears, lips, tongnes, and the fat of their arms
and legs." The priests of Baal, we are told, in
tlie book of Kings, " cut themselves with knives
and lancets, until the blood gushed out upon
them." When the Carthaginians were vanquish-
ed by Agathocles, king of Sicily, they conceived
that their god, Jupiter Latialis was displeased with
their conduct. In order to appease him, and pro-
pitiate his favor, they sacrificed to him, at once,
tiDO hundred sons of the first noblemen of their
state. On the altars of Mexico, twenty thousand
human beings are said to have been sacrificed
every year; and ffty thousand were annually
offered up in the various parts of that empire,
accompanied with circumstances of such dread-
ful cruelly and horror, as makes us shudder at
the recital. In Hindostan, even at the present
day, several thousands of women are annually
burned on the funeral piles of their deceased
husbands, as victims to the religion they profess;
beside multitudes of other human victims, which
are crushed to death under the wheels of that in-
fernal engine which supports the idol Juggernaut.
Were the one hundredth part of the abominations
which have been perpetrated under the system of
idolatry, in those countries v/here it has prevailed,
to be fully detailed, it would exhibit a picture of
depravity and of infernal agency, at which the
human mind would shrink back with horror; and
would form a striking commentary on the divine
declaration, that "the dark places cf the earth are
full of the habitations of horrid cruelty."

It appears, then, that a violation of the first
precept of the moral'law is the greatest crime of
which a rational creature can be guilty; for it is
the source of all the other crimes which have en-
tailed wretchedness on mankind, and strewed the
earth with devastation and carnage. It is a com-
prehensive summary of wickedness; which in-
cludes pride, falsehood, blasphemy, malignity, re-
bellion, hatred of moral excellence, and the basest
ingratitude toward Him from whom we derived
our being, and on whom we depend for all our
enjoyments. It is a crime which, above all others,
has a tendency to degrade the character of man;
fur where it abounds, the human mind is sunk
into the lowest state, both of moral and of intel-
lectual debasement. What a pitiful and humiliat-
incr sifrht is it, and what emotions of astonishment
must it excite in the mind of an archangel, to be-

hold a rational and immortal intelligence cutting
down an oak in the forest, burning part of it in
the fire, baking bread, and roasting flesh upon its
embers, and forming the residue of it into an idol,
falling down and worshiping it, and saying, '.' De-
liver me, for thou art my God!"* And when
we behold the same degraded mortal sacrificing
the children of his own bowels before this stump
of a tree, can we refrain from exclaiming, in the
language of the prophet, "Be astonished, O yn
heavens, at this; and be ye horribly afraid'.'
Were idolatry to become tiniversal in the woild,
there is no crime, no si)ecies of cruelty, no moial
abomination within the compass of the human
heart to devise, but would soon be perpetrated
without a blush, in the open face of day. Ha<J
not God, in his mercy, communicated a revelek-
tion of his will, in order to counteract the in-
fluence of Pagan theology, — instead of cultivating
the powers of our minds, and expanding our con-
ception of the Almighty, by a contemplation of
his word and works, we might, at this moment,
have been sunk into the lowest depths of moral
degradation, been prostrating ourselves, in adora-
tion, before a stupid ox or a block of marble, and
sacrificing our sons and daughters to an infernal
Moloch. It is one of the glories of Revelation,
and a strong proof of its divine origin, that all its
promises and threatenings, its admonitions and
reproofs, its doctrines, its laws and ordinances,
are directly opposed to every idolatrous practice;
and that there is not a single instance in which
the least countenance is given to any of the abo-
minations of the Pagan world.

In the present age, and in the country in which
we reside, we are in little danger of relapsing
into the practices to which I have now adverted.
But idolatry is not confined to the adoration of
Pagan divinities: it has its seat in every heart
whore God is banishfd from the thoughts, and
where pride, ambition, and avarice occupy the
highest place. " Covctoiisness," or an inordinate
love of wealth, is declared by the Apostle Paul to
be " idolatry;" and such mental idolatry, though
more refined than that of the heathen world, is
almost equally abhorrent to the Divine Being,
and equally subversive of the grand principles of
Christian morality. If the acquisition of wealth
and riches be the constant and supreme aim of
any individual, Mammon is the god whom ho
regularly woi"ships, and the God of heaven is do
throned from his seat in the affections. Such
moral effects as the following are the natural
results of this species of idolatry: It steels tbo/
heart against every benevolent and generous
emotion; it shuts the ears to the cries of the poor
and need}'; it engenders cheating, falsehood, and
deceit; it prevents the man in whom it predomi-
nates fi'om exerting his active powers, and from
contributing of his wealth to promote the happi-
ness of mankind; it chains down his noble facul-
ties to the objects of time and sense; it leads him
to love and to serve himself more than the Crea-
tor; it wraps him up in selfishness, and an indif-
ference to the concerns of all other beings; it
destroys the principles of equity and justice; it
blunts the feelings of humanity and compassion;
and prevents him from attending to the sal^atioii
of his soul, and from looking at those things which
are unseen and eternal. And in every othiT cas«
where a similar principle holds the supreme seat
in the affections, similar effects will be produce*

* See Isaiah xiv, 9—81.

IMAGE WORSHIP.

69

THE SECOND COMMANDMENT.

Thon sfialt not make unto thee any graven image,
nor any likenesa of anything tlial is in heaven
above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in
the waters under the earth: thou shall not how
down thyself to them, nor serve them."

The first commandment, which I have illus-
trated above, respects the object of our worship;
forbidding: us to substitute anj' other being in the
room of God, or to otiVr it that homage which is
due to the eternal Jehovah. This second com-
mandment respects the manner in which he is to
be worshiped. And in regard to the manner in
which the Divine Being is to he contemplated
and adored, it is expressly declared, tliat -no image
nor representation of this incomprehensible Being
is at any time, or on any account, to be formed.
This command, like the former, might at first
sight appear to be unnecessarj', if the almost uni-
versal practice of mankind had not taught us that
there is no disposition which the human mind is
more apt to indulge, than to endeavor to bring
the invisible Divinity within the range of our
senses, and to contemplate him as such a one as
ourselves. The necessity of this injunction, its
reasonableness, and the folly and absurdity of the
practice against which it is directed, will appear
from the following considerations.

The Divine Being fills the immensity of space
with his presence, and to his essence we can set
no bounds. He inhabited eternity, before the
earth or the heavens were brought into existence,
rejoicing in the contemplation of his own excel-
lencies, and in the future effects of his power and
benevolence. He is a spiritual uncompounded
Bubstance, and consequently invisible to mortal
eyes, and impalpable to every other organ of sen-
sation. His omnipotence neither man nor angel
can scan, nor can they explore the depths of his
wisdom and intelligence. When universal silence
and solitude reigned throughout the infinite void —
when not a sound was heard nor an object seen
within the immeasurable extent of boundless
ispace — at his command, worlds, numerous as the
Kind, started into being. Thousands of suns dif-
fused their splendors tlirough the regions of im-
mensity; the ponderous masses of tiie planetary
globes were launched into existence, and impelled
in their rapid courses through the sky; their sur-
faces were adorned with resplendent beauties, and
replenislied with myriads of delighted inhabitants.
The seraphim and the cherubim began to chant
their hj^mns of praise, and "shouted for joy"
when they beheld new worlds emerging from the
voids of space. Life, motion, activity, beauty,
grandeur, splendid illumination, and rapturous
joy, among unnumbered intelligences, burst upon
the view, where a little before nothing appeared
but one immense, dark, and cheerless void. And
ever since duration began to be measured, either
in heaven or on earth, by the revolutions of ce-
lestial orbs, the same omnipotent energy has been
incessantly exerted in directing the movements of
all worlds and systems, and in uphok.ing them in
their vast career. Of a being invested with attri-
butes so glorious and incomprehensible, with
power so astonishing in its eftects, with goodness
10 boundless, and with wisdom so unsearchable,
what image or representation can possibly be
formed which will not tend to contract our con-
ceptions, and to debase the character of the infi-
nite and eternal Mind! " To whom will ye liken
me, or shall I be equal, saith the Holy One!"

When a person of dignity and of respectability

of character is caricatured, and associated with
objects and circumstances tliat are mean, ridicu-
lous, and grotesque, it has a tendency to degrade
his character, and to lessen our veneration, i'ot
the respect we entertain for any individual ia
founded on the view we take of him in all the
aspects in which he may be contemplated. For
a similar reason, every attempt to represent the
Divine Majesty by sensible images, must have a
tendency to narrow our conceptions of his glory,
to debase his character, and to lessen our reve-
rence and esteem. What possible similitude can
there be between that mighty being, who by his
word lighted up the sun, and diff'used ten thou-
sands of such immense luminaries through the
regions of creation, whose hand wields the planets,
and rolls them through the tracts of immensity;
between him who " meteth out the heavens with
a span, and holds the ocean in the hollow of his
hand," and the most resplendent image that was
ever formed by human hands! Even the sun
himself, with all his immensity of splendor, al-
though our minds were expanded to comprehend
his vast magnificence, would form but a poor and
pitiful image of Him, whose breath has kindled
ten thous:ind times ten thousand suns. How
much less can a block of marble or a stupid ox
adumbrate the glories of the King eternal, im-
mortal, and invisible! It will doubtless redound
to the eternal disgrace of the human character, in
every region of the universe where it is knov/n,
that ever such an impious attempt was made by
the inhabitants of our degenerate world, as to
compare the glory of the incorruptible God to an
image made like to corruptible man. Wherever
such attempts have been made, there we behold
human nature in its lowest state of debasement;
the intellectual faculties darkened, bewildered, and
degraded; the moral powers perverted and de-
praved; groveling affections predominating over
the dictates of reason, and diabolical passions
raging without control. Hence, too, the debasing
tendency of all those attempts which have been
made to introduce into the Christian church, pic-
tures and images, to represent "The invisible
things of God," and the sufferings of the Re-
deemer. For, wherever such practices prevail,
the minds of men will generally be found to en-
tertain the grossest conceptions of the Divine Be-
ing, and of the solemn realities of religion.

But the principal reason why any representation
of God is expressly forbidden in this command-
ment, is, that whenever such a practice commences,
it infallibly euu^ •■• adoring the image itself, instead
of the object it was intended to represent. Or, in
other words, the breach of this commandment
necessarily and uniformly leads to a breach of the
first. Notwithstanding the shock which the hu-
man mind appears to have received by the fall, it
is altogether inconceivable, that any tribe of man-
kind should have been so debased and brutalized,
as, in the first instance, to mistake a crocodile, or
the stump of a tree, however beautifully carved,
for the Creator of heaven and earth. Such ob-
jects appear to have been first used as symbols or
representations of the Deity, in order to assist the
mind in forming a conception of his invisible at-
tributes. But as they had a direct tendency to
debase the mind, and to obscure the glory of the
Divinity, in process of time they began to be re-
garded by the ignorant multitude as the very gods
themselves, which they were at nrst intended to
represent; and that tribute of adoration was paid
to the symbol itself, which was originally intended
to be given to the invisible God, through this sen-
sible medium. And, when we contemplate kings

70

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

and princes, poets and philosopliers, lieroes and
sages, " young men and virgins, old men and ciiil-
dron," wliolo provinces, nations, and continents,
prostrating themselves before tlie shrine of such
despicable and abominable idols, and the idea of
tlio true God almost banished from the world, we
have reason to feel ashamed, and to be deeply-
humbled, that we belong to a race of intelligences
that have thus so grossly prostituted their rational
and moral powers.

The only natural imago or representation of
God which is set before us for our contemplation,
is, the boundless universe which his hands have
formed; and his 7noral image is displayed in the
laws which he has published, in the movements
of his providence, and in the face of Jesus Christ
bis Son, who is "the image of the invisible God,
and the brightness of his glory." All these exhi-
bitions of the Divine Majesty, we are commanded
to study, to contemplate, and admire; and it is
essentially requisite in order to our acquiring cor-
rect and comprehensive views of the object of our
adoration, that no one of these displays of the
Divinity should be overlooked, or thrown into the
shade. Tliere are some Christians, who imagine
they may acquire a competent knowledge of the
character of God, although they should never
spend a single moment in contemplating his per-
fections as displayed in his visible works. In re-
gard to such, I hesitate not to affirm, that they
are, to a certain extent, idolaters, and remain will-
ful idolaters, contented with the most inadequate
and groveling conceptions of the Deity, so long
as they refuse to contemplate, with fixed atten-
tion, and with intelligence, the operations of his
hands. If a man's ideas never extend beyond the
bounds of his visible horizon, or beyond the limits
of the country in which he resides, and if, at the
same time, he has overlooked the most striking
displays of divine wisdom and goodness within
these bounds — his conceptions of the Divine Being
himself, will nearly correspond with the concep-
tions he forms of his works. If his views be even
confined within the limits of the globe on which
ho dwells, his conceptions of God will still be
groveling, distorted, and imperfect. And, there-
fore, the idea which such an individual forms to
himself of God, may be inferior to that which is
due to one of the higher orders of created intel-
ligences. And, if so, he has only an image of a
creature in his mind, instead of a comprehensive
conception of the Great Creator. We have too
much reason to believe, that there are multitudes
in the religious world, who pass for enlightened
Christians, whose ideas of the Supreme Ruler of
the universe do not rise beyond the conceptions
we ought to form of the powers and capacities of
Gabriel the archangel, or of one of the highest
order of the seraphim.

We can never expect, from the very nature of
things, to be able to explore the depths of Jeho-
vah's essence, or to comprehend the whole range
of his dominions and government. But, a large
portion of his operations lies open to our inspec-
tion; and it is from an enlightened contemplation
of what is presented to our view in the visible
universe, that we are to form our conceptions of
the grandeur of the Eternal Mind. For, it may
be admitted as an axiom, both in natural and re-
vealed theology, that our conceptions of God will
nearly correspond with the conceptions we acquire of
the nature, and extent of his operations. In the
universe around us, we perceive an image of his
infinity, in so far as a finite and material exist-
ence can adumbrate the attributes of an Infinite
and Invisible Existence. When we lift our eyes

toward the midnigh( sky, we behold a thousand
suns dilFusing their splendors from regions of
space immeasurably distant. When we apply a
telescope to any portion of this vast concave, wa
perceive thousands more which the unassisted ey*
cannot discern. When we increase the magnify-
ing powers of the instrument, we descry numer-
ous orbs of light, stretching still farther into th»
unfathomable depths of space; so that there ap
1 pear no limits to the scene of creating power
i Wh;Mi tiie eye of reason penetrates beyond all
: that is visible through the most powerful tele-
! scopes, it contemplates a boundless region teeming
i witii other resplendent suns and systems, whose
I number and magnificence overwhelm tlie imagi-
j nation; so that no limit can be set to the excur-
1 sions of the intellect when it wings its flight over
i the wide empire of Jehovah. Over all this vast
! assemblage of material splendor, over its move-
I ments, and over all the diversified ranks of intel-
ligence it supports, God eternally and unchangea-
bly presides. He is an Infinite Being; — and in
this immense universe which he has opened to
our view, he has given us an image of his infinity,
which corresponds with the perfections which the
inspired writers ascribe to him — and without a
contemplation of which, the mind must have a
very unworthj' and circumscribed idea of the at-
tributes of the Eternal Mind. Even in many of
the objects which surround us in this lower world,
we perceive an image of the infinity of the Crea-
tor— particularly in those living worlds which are
contained in a few drops of water, some of the
inhabitants of which are several hundreds of thou-
sands of times smaller than the leSst grain of sand.
To the contemplation of such objects we are di-
rected by God hiiViself, in order to acquire an im«
pressive view of his character and operations
" Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath
created these orbs, that bringeth out their host by
number: he calleth them all by names, by the
greatness of his might, for that he is strong in
power." — And, the prophets, when reasoning
against idolatrj', present us with a train of thought
similar to that to which I have now adverted.
They describe the Almighty as " sitting on the
circle of the heavens, and the inhabitants of the
earth as grasshoppers in his sight." They repre-
sent him as "measuring the waters in the hollow
of his hand, weighing the mountains in scales,
and meting out the heavens with a span — before
whom all nations are as the drop of a bucket, and
are counted to him less than nothing and vanity."
It is strange, indeed, that the duty of contem-
plating the image of God as impressed upon his
works, should be so much overlooked by the great
body of the Christian world, notwithstanding the
obvious reasonableness of this duty, and the point-
ed injunctions in relation to it which are reiterated
in every department of the word of God. It is
still more strange, that the instructions of many
religious teachers have a tendency to dissuade
Christians from engaging in this duty, by the
foolish contrasts they attempt to draw between
the word and the works of God; so that the great
mass of Christians are left to remain half idola-
ters for want of those expansive conceptions of
God which a knowledge of his works is calculated
to produce.

It is also most unaccountable, on every princi-
ple of reason, and of Revelation, that the willful
neglect of this duty should never be accounted
either as a sin, or as a want of that respect which
is due to the Majesty of heaven. We have known
persons rebuked, and even excluded from a Chris-
tian Church, for holding a metaphysical sentiment

THE THIRD COMMANDMENT.

71

different froiti their brethren respecting the divine
plans and decrees; but we never heard of an indi-
vidual being either reproved or admonislied bj' a
Christian society, for neglecting to contemplate
the character of God as displayed in his works,
although he had lived fifty years amidst tlie mag-
nificence df creation, and had acqaired little
more knowledge of his Creator, from this source,
than the ox which browses on the grass. Yet, to
this neglect is to be imputed a great proportion of
tliose groveling conceptions, superstitious notions,
and distorted views of the doctrines of religion
which still disgrace the Christian world. This
fact is still more unaccountable, when we consider
that a knowledge of the abstrusities and techni-
calities of science is not requisite in order to the
performance of this duty. It requires only tiie
eye of sense, of reason, and of devotion to be di-
rected to the scene of divine operation within us,
and around us, and to bo occasioually fixed on the
object we contemplate, in order to appreciate the
perfections and the glory of the ever present
Deity, x'^lthough there were no other striking
objects around us, the single fact of the apparent
revolution of the celestial concave, with all its
magnificent orbs, around the earth every twenty-
four hours, is sufiicient to overpower the mind of
every rational observer with admiration and won-
der, if hi? attention were seriously directed to it
only for a single hour. The ideas of majesty, of
grandeur, and of omnipotent energy which this
single circumstance is calculated to inspire, are
such as irresistibly to lead the mind to the con-
templation of a Being whose perfections are in-
corapreiiensible, and whose ways are past finding
out. Yet, I believe, it may be atfirmed with truth,
that more than one half of the Christian world
are ignorant that such a fact exists;* such is the
indifference and the apathy with which many re-
ligionists view the wonderful works of God.

It was chiefly owing to such criminal inatten-
tion to the displays of the Divine Character iu
the works of creation, that the inhabitants of the
Pagan world plunged themselves into all the ab-
surdities and abominations of idolatry. " For the
invisible things of God, even his eternal power
and godhead, are clearly seen in the things that
are made," if men would but open their eyes, and
exercise their ])Owers of intelligence. " The hea-
vens declare the glory of Jehovah," they declare
it to all the inliabitants of the earth. " There is
no speech nor language where their voice is not
heard: their line is gone out through all the earth,
and their words to the end of the world."

"In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And uUer forth a glorious voice;
Forever sinfring, as they sliine,
' The hand that made us is divine.' "

But the Heathen world did not listen to the in-
structions thus conveyed, nor did they apply their
understandings, as they ought to have done, to
trace the invisible things of God, from the visible
displays of his character and perfections, in the
universe around them. " They became vain in
their imaginations, and their foolish hearts were
darkened; and professing themselves to be wise,
they became fools." While " the harp and the
Hoi, the tabret, the pipe, and the wine were in
their feasts, they regarded not the works of the

• Here I refer simply to the apparent motion of the hea-
»ens — leavinff every one to form liis oun opinion as to the
other alternative — the motion of the earth. In either case
the mind is overpowered with ideas of grandeur and of Al-
mighty power. See tliis topic more particularly illustrated
in "Christ. Philosopher."

Lord, nor considered the operations of his hands."
" Wherefore they were given up by God to in-
dulge" in vile affections, and "to worship and
serve the creature rather than the Creator, who
is blessed forever." And, even under the Chris-
tian dispensation, we have too much reason to
fear, that effects somewhat analogous to these
have been produced, and a bi)ecies of mental idc-
atry practiced by thousands who have professed
the religion of Jesus; owing to their inattentioa
to the visible operations of Jehovah, and to their
not connecting them with the displays of his cha-
racter and agency as exhibited in the revelations
of his word.

THE THIRD COMMANDMENT.

"Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy Gcd
in vain.^'

The name of any person is that which distin-
guishes him from other individuals. Whatever
word is employed to distinguish any object, whe-
ther animate or inanimate, is its name. In like
manner, the Name of God is that by which he is
distinguished from all other beings. It includes
those terms which express his nature and charac-
ter, as Jehovah — those titles by which his relation,
to his creation is designated, as "The Creator of
the ends of the earth, — The Father of mercies, —
The God of salvation," &.c. — the attributes of
wliich he is possessed, as his Eternity, Omnipo-
tence, Holiness, Justice, &c. — the u-orks which
he has exhibited in heaven and on earth — the
movements of his Providence, and the Revelations
of his word. By every one of these, the charac-
ter of God is distinguished from that of all other
beings in the universe. In relation to this name
or character of the Divine Being, it is solemnly
commanded that " we are not to take it in vain,'' —
that is, we are not to use any of the titles or de-
signations of the Divine Majesty, for trifling, vain,
or evil purposes; nor are we to treat any displays
of his character with levity, profaneness, or irre-
verence.

We violate this command, when we use the
name of God, in common discourse, in a light
and irreverent manner, when we interlard our
conversations with unnecessary oaths and asseve-
rations in which this name is introduced; when
we swear to what we know to be false, or when
we nmltiply oaths in reference to vain and trifling
concerns; when we imprecate curses and damna-
tion on our fellovz-creatures; when we approach
God in [jrayer, without those feelings of reverence
and awe, which his perfections demand; when
we swear by any object in heaven or in earth, of
by tlio false deities of the heathen world; when
we treat his wonderful works with indifference or
contempt; when we endeavor to caricature, and
misrepresent them, or attempt to throw a vail over
their glory; when we insinuate that his most glo-
rious and magnificent works were made for no
end, or for no end worthy of that infinite wisdom
and intelligence by wl:'ch they were contrived;
when we overlook or dony the Divine Agency,
which is displayed in the operations of nature;
when we murmur and repine at his moral di.spen-
satiotis, or treat the mighty movements of his pro-
vidence, whether in ancient or in modern times,
with a spirit of levity, with ridicule, or with con-
tempt; when we treat the revelations of the Bible
with indifference or with scorn; when we make
the declarations of that book, which unfolds to u«
the sublime and adorable character of Jehoveih,
the subject of merriment and jest; when we en-

72

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

deavor to throw upon them contempt and ridicule,
with the view of unilermiuing tlieir divine au-
thority; and wlien we sneer at the public and pri-
vate worsliip of God, and at the ordinances which
he hath appointed. — In all these and m;tny other
ways, the name of God is profaut'd, his cliaracter
reproached, and that reverence of tlie Divine Be-
ing, which is the foundation of all religion and
moral order, undermined and subverted.

When the name or the titles by which a fellow-
mortal is distinguished, are maile the subject of
banter and ridicule in every company, when they
are brought forward for the purpose of giving an
edge to a sarcastic snei'r; and when liis employ-
ments and the works he has constructed are con-
temned, and associated with everything that is
mean and degrading; it is an evidence of the low
estimation in which he is held by the individual
who does so, and has a tendency to debase his
character in the eyes of others. On the same
principle, the profanation of the name of God, has
an evident tendency to lessen our admiration of
the Majesty of Heaven, and to banish from the
mind every sentiment of veneration and reve-
rence. The man who can deliberately violate this
command, from day to day, — thus offering a con-
tinual insult to his Maker — proclaims to all around,
that he has no emotions of reverence and aflection
toward that Almighty Being, whose power upholds
the fabric of heaven and earth, and who dispenses
life and death to whomsoever he pleases. "He
stretcheth out his hand against God, and strength-
eueth himself against the Almighty." He pro-
claims to every reflecting mind, that pride, en-
mity, rebellion, and irreverence, are deeply seated
in his heart, and that " the fear of God," and the
Bolemnities of a future judgment " are not before
his eyes."

Were the violation of this law to become uni-
versal among men — the name of God, among all
ranks, ages, and conditions of life, would be asso-
ciated, not only with every trifling discourse and
altercation, but witli every species of ribaldry and
obscenity. The lisping babe would be taught to
insult that Mighty Being, from whom it so lately
derived its existence; and the man of hoary hairs,
even in the agonies of death, would pass into the
eternal state, imprecating the vengeance of his
Maker. All reverence for Jehovah, would, of
course, be banished from society; no temples
would be erected to his honor; no silent adora-
tions of the heart would ascend to his throne; no
vows would be paid; no forms of worship appoint-
ed; no tribute of thanksgiving and gratitude would
be offered to his name, — but the voice of profanity
and of execration, among high and low, rich and
poor, the young and the old, in every social inter-
course, and in every transaction, would resound
throughout all lands. No motives to e.vcite to
moral action, would be derived from the authority
and the omnipresence of God, and from a consi-
deration of his future retributions; for his charac-
ter would be reproached, and his authority tram-
pled under foot by all people. " They would set
their mouths against the heavens in their blasphe-
mous talk," and they would say, "How doth God
know, and s there knowledge in the Most High?"
*' What is the Almighty that we should serve him,
and what profit shall we liave, if we pray unto
him?" " The Lord doth not see, neither doth the
God of Jacob regard us." His wonderful works
Would either be overlooked, or treated with con-
tempt, or ascribed to the blind operation of chance
or of fate. They would be represented as accom-

plisliiiig no end, as displaying no wisdom, and ai
controlled by no intelligent agency. Tlieir appa-
rent irregularities and defects would be magnified,
and expatiated upon witli diabolical deliglit; while
the glorious evidences they exhibit of infinite wis-
dom and beneficence would be thrown completely
into the shade. The dispensations of his provi-
dence would be viewed as an inextricable itiaze
without order or design, directed by chance, ana
by the ever- varying caprice of human beiugs
His venerable word would universally become the
subject of merriment and laughter, — a topic for
the exercise of ribaldry and ridicule, and a theme
for enlivening the unhallowed song of the drunk-
ard. The most solemn scenes which it displays,
and its most joyful and alarming declarations,
would be equally treated with levity and contempt
Such are some of the impious practices, and hor-
rible elfects which would follow, if the name of
Jehovah wei-e universally profaned. The very
name of religion would be blotted out from the
earth, its forms abolished, its sanctions disre-
garded, its laws violated, virtue and piety annihi-
lated, the flood-gates of every evil burst open, and
moral order entirely subverted.

On the other hand, universal reverence of the
name and character of God would lead to the
practice of all the duties of piety and morality.
The Most High would be recognized with senti-
ments of veneration at all times; and the silent
adorations of the heart would flow out toward
him in all places; in the house, and in the street,
in the bosom of the forest, and in the fertile plain,
in the city, and in the wilderness, under the
shades of night, and amidst the splendors of day^
In every place, temples Vi'onld be erected for hisi
worship, hallelujahs of prai.-e would ascend, and
" incense and a pure offering" be presented to his
name. With reverence and godly fear, with ex-
pansive views of his magnificence and glory, with
emotions of offbction and of awe would his wor-
shipers approach him in prayer, in praise, in con-
templation, and in all the services of his sanctu-
ary. The whole earth would be consecrated as
one grand temple, from which a grateful homage
would ascend from the hearts and from the lips
of millions of devout worshipers, in all places,
from the rising to the setting sun. In the domes-
tic circle, in the social chib, in the convivial meet-
ing, in the streets, in " the high places of tha
citjs" in the public walks, in the councils of the
nations; and in every other intercourse of human
beings, tlie name of God would never be men-
tioned nor his character alluded to, but with feel-
ings of profound and reverential awe. His works
would be contemplated with admiration, with re-
verence, and with gratitude, as proclaiming the
glory of his kingdom, the depths of his wisdom,
and the extent of his power. His mighty move-
ments among the nations would be regarded with
submission and reverence, as accomplishing the
eternal purposes of his will, and his holy word
would be perused by all classes of men with af-
fection and delight, as the oracle which proclaims
the glories of his nature and the excellence of his
laws, the blessings of his salvation, and the path
which conducts to eternal felicity in the life to
come. Such are some of the delightful effects
which would follow, were a sentiment of profound
reverence to pervade the whole mass of himian
beings; — and corresponding sentiments of (ova
and affection for each other, would be the neces-
sary and unceasing accompaniments of respect
and veneration for their common Parent

INSTITUTION OF THE SABBATH.

73

THK FOURTH COMMANDMENT.

"Rememhct the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six
days shult thou labor, and do all thy work; but
the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy
God," &c.

riiis commandment obviously enjoins the sct-
Lng apart of one clay in seven, as a day of rest
from worldly labor, and as a portion of time to be
devoted to tlie devotional exercises of religion, and
particularly to the public worship of God. It
was given forth, not merely to display the Sove-
reignty of the Lawgiver; but to promote both the
sensitive and the intellectual enjoyment of man.
"The Sabbath," says our Saviour, "was made
for inan, and not man for the Sabbath."

It was made for man, in the Jirst place, as a
day of rest. In this point of view, it is a most
wise and merciful appoiutment, esjjccially when
we consider the present condition of mankind, as
doomed to labor, and toil, and to the endurance of
many sorrows. When we reflect on the tyrannical
dispositions which prevail among mankind, on the
powerful influence of avarice over the human
mind, and on the almost total abspuce of benevo-
lence and compasdon toward sufleriug humanity,
wherever such dispositions predominate, we can-
not but admire the wisdom and benevolence of the
Creator, in the appointment of a weekly jubilee
for the rest and refreshment of laborers spent with
toil. On this day, the master has an opportunity
of divesting his mind of worldly cares and anxie-
ties, the servant of obtaining liberty and respite
from his toilsome employments; and laborers of
every class, of enjoying repose in the bosom of
their families. Such, however, are the avaricious
dispositions, and the contracted views of a great
proportion of mankind, that they are apt to regard
the institution of the Sabbath as an obstruction to
the advancement of their worldly interests. They
will calculate how much labor has been lost by
the rest of one day in seven, and how much wealth
might have been gained, had the Sabbath not in-
ter^'ened to interrupt their employments. But all
such selfish calculations, even in a worldly point
of view, proceed on the principles of a narrow and
ghort-sighted policy. We know by experience, that,
on the six days out of seven appointed for labor,
all the operations requisite for the cultivation of
the fields, and for the manufacture of every useful
article for the comfort of mankind, can be per-
formed with ease, and without the least injury to
any class of men. And what more couid be ac-
complished, although the Sabbath were converted
into a day of labor? Were this violation of the
divine command to become universal, it might be
shown that, instead of producing an increase of
wealth, it would infallibly produce an increase
of toil and misery in^relation to the great mass of
mankind, without any corresponding pecuniary
compensation. The laboring class at present re-
ceive little more wages than is barely sufficient to
procure the necessaries of life. If their physical
strength would permit them to \^ork eighteen
hours a day, instead of twelve, it is beyond a doubt,
that, in a very short time, the work of eighteen
hours would be aemanded by their employers for
tlie" price of twelve — particularly in all cases
where a sufficient number of laborers can be
easily obtained. In like manner, were the Sab-
bath to be used as a day of labor, the wages of
seven days would soon be reduced to what is now
given for the labor of six. In the first instance,
indeed, before such a change was thoroughly ef-
fected, the laboring part of the community would

acquire a seventh part more wages every week
than they did before; and men unaccustomed to
reflection, and who never look beyond a present
temporary advantage, would imagine that they
hud accpiired a new resource for incn^asing their
worldly gain. But, in a very short time, when
the affairs of the social state were brought to a
certain equilibrium, they would be miserably un*
deceived; and the abolition of the Sabbath, instead
of bringing along with it an increase of wealth,
would carry in its train an increase of labor, — a
continued series of toilsome and unremitting ex-
ertions, which would waste their animal powers,
cut short the years of their mortal existences,
" make their lives bitter with hard bondage," and
deprive them of some of the sweetest enjoyments
which the}' now possess.

And as the Sabbath was appointed for the rest
of man, so it was also intended as a season of re-
pose for the inferior animals which labor for our
profit. "The sevent^i day is the Sabbath of the
Lord thy God; in it thou shalt not do any work,
thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy man-
servant, nor thy maid-ser\'ant, nor thy cattle, nor
the stranger that is within thy gates." This in-
junction exhibits the compassionate care and ten-
derness of the Creator in a very amiable and
impressive point of view. It shows us, that the
enjoyments of the lowest ranks of sensitive exist-
ence are not beneath his notice and regard. As he
knew what degree of relaxation was necessary for
the comfort of the laboring animals, and as he fore-
saw that the avarice and cruelty of man would
endeavor to deprive them of their due repose, so
he has secured to them, by a law which is to con-
tinue in force so long as the earth endures, the
rest of one day in seven in common with their
proprietors and superiors. And this privilege they
will undoubtedly enjoy hereafter, in a more emi-
nent degree than they have yet done, v.'hen man
himself shall be induced to pay a more cordial and
unreserved obedience to this divine precept, —
when " he shall call the Sabbath a delight, and
the holy of the Lord honorable."

Again, the Sabbath was appointed for man, as
a season for pious recollection, and religious con-
templation. " Remember the Sabbath day, to keep
it fmly." Amidst the numerous cares and labori-
ous emidoyments of human life, it is impossible
to fix the mind, for any length of time, on the
divine glor}% as displayed in the works of crea-
tion, on the important facts and doctrines of re-
vealed religion, and on the grand realities of the
life to come. And, therefore, if the laboring
classes enjoyed no regular season of repose for
serious reflection, and religious instruction, the
objects of religion would soon be entirely neglect-
ed, and the impression of a future world evanish
from the mind- But in the wise arrangements of
the beneficent Creator, an opportunity is aff^orded
to all ranks of men for cultivating their moral
and intellectual powers, and for directing them to
the study and contemplation of the most glorious
and interesting objects. As the Sabbath was ori-
ginally instituted as a sacred memorial of the
finisliing of the work of creation, so it is obvious
that the contemplation of the fabric of the uni-
verse, and of the perfections of its Ahnighty Au-
thor therein displayed, ought to form one part of
the exercises of this holy day; and consequently,
that illustrations of this subject ought to be fre-
quently brought before the view of the mind in
those discourses which are delivered in the assem-
blies of the saints. Since the references to this
subject, throughout the whole of divine revelar
tion, are so frequent and so exnlicit, it is evident,

74

THE THILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

that the Creator intended that this amazing work
of his should be contemplated with admiration,
and make a deep and reverential impression ui)on
every mind. To call to remembrance a period
when there was no terraqueous globe, no sun, nor
moon, nor planets, nor starry firinameut, when
darkness and inanity reigned throngiiont the infi-
nite void — to listen to tlie voice of God resound-
ing through the regions of boundless space, "lkt
TiiKRE BE LIGHT ; and liglit was" — to behold ten
thousands of spacious suns instantly lighted up
at his command — to trace the mighty masses of
the planetary worlds projected from the hand of
Omnipotence, and running their ample circuits
with a rapidity which overwhelms our concep-
tions— to contemplate the globe on which we
stand emerging from darkness and confusion to
light and order; adorned with diversified scenes
of beauty and of sublimity, with mountains, and
plains, with rivers, and seas, and oceans; and with
every variety of shade and color ; cheered with
the melody of the feathered songsters, vind with
the voice of man, the image of his Maker, where
a little before eternal silence had prevailed, — to
reflect on the Almighty energy, the boundless in-
telligence, and the overflowing beneficence dis-
played in this amazing scene — has a tendency to
elevate and expand the faculties of the human
mind, and to excite emotions of reverence and
adoration of the omnipotent Creator. This is a
work which the eternal Jehovah evidently intend-
ed to be held in everlasting remembrance, by man
on earth, and by all the inhabitants of the hea-
venly regions. It is the mirror of the Deity, and
the natural image of the invisible God ; and it
forms the groundwork of all those moral dispen-
sations toward his intelligent offspring, which
will run parallel with eternity itself. And, there-
fore, to overlook this subject in the exercises of
the Sabbath, is to throw a vail over the glories of
the Deity, to disregard the admonitions of his
word, and to contemn one of the most magnifi-
cent and astonishing displays of Divine perfec-
tion. "By the word of Jebovah were the hea-
vens made, and all the host of them, by the breath
of his mouth. He gathereth the waters of the
sea together as a heap, he layeth up the depth in
storehouses. Let all the earth fear the Lord; let
all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of
him. For he spake, and it was done, he com-
manded, and it stood fast." '

This is a command which never was abrogated,
and which never can be abrogated in relation to
any intelligent beings, so long as the Creator
exists, and so long as the universe remains as a
memorial of his power and intelligence. Those
sacred songs which are recorded in Scripture for
directing the train of our devotional exercises,
are full of this subject, and contain specimens of
elevated sentiments, of sublime devotion, incom-
parably superior to what is to be found in any
other record, whether ancient or modern.* But
man, whose unhallowed hand pollutes and de-
grades every portion of revelation which he at-
tempts to improve, has either endeavored to set
aside the literal and sublime references of these
divine compositions, or to substitute in their place
the vague and extravagant fancies of weak and
injudicious minds, for directing the devotional
exercises of Christian churches.f As the book

• See particnlarlv Psalms 8, IS, 19, 29, 33, 65, 66, 68, 74,
89, 92, 93, 94, 9.5, 96, 100, 104, 107, 111, 13.5, 136, 139, 145,
146, 147, U\ Sec. &c.

1 1 here allude to several collections of Hiimns which have
been introduced into the public worship of Christian societies
—many of which, contain a number of vague and injudicious

of God is the only correct standard of religious
worship, so oiir devotional exercises both in pub-
lic and in private, ought to be chiefly, if not sole-
ly, directed by the examples of devotion contained
in the inspired writings, which are calculated to
regulate and enliven the pious exercises of men
of every age and of every clime.

But, the celebration of the work of creation is
not the only, nor the principal exercise to which
we are called on the Christian Sabbath. Had man
continued in primeval innocence, this would pro-
bably have constituted his chief Employment.
But he is now called to celebrate, in conjunction
with this exercise, a most glorious deliverance
from sin and misery, effected by the Redeemei
of mankind. And, for this reason, the Sabbath
has been changed from the seventh to the first
day of the week, in memorial of the resurrection
of Christ, when he was "declared to be the Son
of God with power." In this deliverance, as in
the first creation, a variety of the grandest and
most interesting objects is presented to our view;
— The Son of God manifested in the flesh — the
moral image of the invisible Creator embodied in
a human form, displaying every heavenly disposi-
tion, and every divine virtue, performing a series
of the most astonishing and beneficent miracles,
giving sight to the blind, and hearing to the deaf,
making the lame man leap as a hart, and the
tongue of the dumb to sing, restoring the infuriated
maniac to the exercise of reason, commanding
diseases to fly at the signal of a touch, recalling
departed spirits from the invisible world, raising
the dead to life, and, on every occasion, impart-
ing heavenly instructions to attending multitudes.
We behold this illustrious personage suspended
on the cross, encompassed with the waters of af-
fliction, and with the agonies of death; the vail
of the temple rent in twain, from the top to the
bottom — the rocks of mount Calvary rent asunder
— the sun covered with blackness — darkness sur-
rounding the whole land of Judea — the graves
opening — the dead arising, and the Prince of Life
consigned to the mansions of the tomb. On the
third morning after this solemn scene, " a great
earthquake" having shaken the sepulcher of the
Saviour, we behold him bursting the prison-doors
of the tomb, and awakening to a new life, which
shall never end — we behold celestial messengers,
in resplendent forms, descending from the ethereal
regions to announce to his disconsolate disciples,
that he who was dead " is alive, and lives for ever-
more;" we behold him, at length, bestowing his

sentiments, and extravagant fancies, while they entirely
omit many of those subjects on which the inspired writers
delight to expatiate. This position could easily be illnstrat.
ed by abundance of examples, were it expedient in \\\\i plaoe.
I am firmly of opinion, that the praises of the Christian church
oiisht to be celebvated in Scriptur/i-languagc — that selec»
tions for this purpose should be made from the book of Psalm*
the Prophets, and the New Testament writers, which shajj
embody every sentiment expressed in the original, without
gloss or comment, and lie as nearly as possible in the very
words of Scripture. This has been partly effected in many
of the Psalms contained in metrical version, used in tlie
Scottish Church, in which simplicity, and sublimity, and a
strict adherence to the original, are beautifully exemplified.
In this case there would be no need for a separate hymn-
book for baptists, Methodists, Independents, Presbyterians,
and Episcopalians. But, when a poet takes an insulated pas.
sage of Scripture, and spins out a dozen stanzas about it, lia
may interweave, and most frequently does, as many fancies
of bis own as he pleases. Were the ideas contained in certain
hymns to be painted on canvass, they would represent, either
a congeries of clouds and mists, or a group of distorted and
unnatural objects. And why should such vague fancies,
and injudicious representations, be imjiosed on a Christian
assembly? What a disgrace is thrown upon Christianity,
when the different sects of Christians cannot cordially join
together in the same songs of thanksgiving and praise t0
their common Father and Lord ?

RELATIONS OF MANKIND.

75

ast benediction on his faithful followers, rising
above tlio contincs of this earthly ball, winging
his way on a resplendent cloud, attended by
myriads of angels, through distant regions wliicli
"eye hath not seen;" and entering "into heaven
itself, there to appear in the presence of God for
us." In the riidemption acliieved by this glorious
person, we are directed to look back on that scene
of misery in wliich sin has involved the human
race, and to those " regions of sorrow and doleful
Bhades," from which iiis mercy has delivered us;
and to look forward to a complete deliverance
from moral evil, to a resurrection from the grave,
to a generul assembly of the whole race of Adam
• — U. the destruction and renovation of this vast
globe on which we dwell, and to the enjoyment of
uninterrupted felicity, in brighter regions, while
countless ages roll away. — Such are some of the
sublime and interesting objects which we are
called upon to contemplate and to celebrate on
tlie day appointed for -the Christian Sabbath — ob-
jects which have a tendency to inspire the mind
with sacred joy, and with an anticipation of noble
employments in the life to come.

Again, the Sabbath was appointed as a stated
season for the public worship of God. As man-
kind are connected by innumerable ties, as they
are subject to the same wants and iniirmfties, are
exposed to the same sorrows and atilictions, and
8tand in need of the same blessings from God, —
it is higlily reasonable and becoming, that they
should frequently meet together, to offer up in
unison their thanksgiving and praise to their com-
mon Benefactor, and to supplicate the throne of
his mercy. These exercises are connected with
a variety of interesting and important associations.
In the public assemblies where religious worship
is performed, "the rich and the poor meet toge-
ther." Within the same walls, those who would
never have met in any other circumstances, are
placed exactly in the same situation before Him
in whose presence all earthly distinctions evanish,
and who is the Lord, and " the Maker of then-.
all." Here, pride and haughtiness are abased; all
are placed on the same level as sinners before
Him "wlio is of purer eyes than to behold
iniquity;" the loftiness of man is humbled, the
poor are raised from the dust, and tlie Lord alone
is exalted in the courts of his holiness. Here,
cleanliness and decency of apparel are to be seen,
and human nature appears, both in its physical
and its moral grandeur.* Here, civility of de-
portment, and kindly affections are generally dis-
played. Hi>re,wo feel ourselves in the immediate
presence of Him before whom all nations are as
the drop of a bucket; we feel our guilty and de-
pendent character, and stand, as suppliants, for
mercy to pardon, and for grace to help us in the
time of need. Here, knowledge of the most im-
portant kind is communicated to assembled mul-
titudes, almost "without money and without
price." Here, the poorest beggar, the youth, and
the man of hoary hairs, may learn the character
of the true God, and of Jesus Christ whom he
hath sent — the way to eternal happiness — the
Bources of consolation under the afflictions of life
^-and the duties they owe to their Creator, and
to all mankind. In a word, here the sinner, in
the midst of his unhallowed courses, is aroused to
consideration; anj^l^re the saint is animated and
encouraged in hi^^H|tian journey, and enjoys

* \Vliat a strikng contrast, even iiKa physical point of
»iew, is presented between a moilern assembly of Christian
worshipers, and the hideous and filthy group of human be-
ings that are to be seen in the kraal of a Hottentot, or in the
eave of a New Hollander.

a foretaste of the blessedness of heaven, and au
earnest of the delightful intercourses and employ-
ments of " the saints in light."

Let us now suppose, for a moment, that the
Sabbath, and its exercises, were uuiversalhj abo-
lished from the civilized world. What would be
the consequences? The knowledge of the true
God, which the institution of tlie Sabbath, more
than any other mean, has tended to perpetuate,
would soon be lost, liis wor.sliip abandoned, and
religion and moral principle buried in the dust
In Fagan countries, where the SabbatJi is un-
known, the true God is never adored, the soul of
man is debased, and prostrates itself before the
sun and moon, and even before demons, monsters,
insects, reptiles, and blocks of w^ood and stone. In
France, where the Sabbath was for a season abo-
lished, an impious phantom, called the Goddess of
Reason, was substituted in the room of the Omni-
potent and Eternal God; the Bible was held up to
ridicule, and committed to the flames; man was de-
graded to the level of the brutes; his mind was as-
similated to a piece of clay, and the cheering pros-
pects of immortality were transformed into the
shades of an eternal night. Atheism, Skepticism,
and Fatalism, almost universally prevailed; the
laws of morality were trampled under foot; and
anarchy, plots, assassinations, massacres, and le-
galized plunder, became " the order of the day." —
With the loss of the knowledge of God, all im-
pressions of the Divine presence, and all sense of
accountableness for human actions, would be
destroyed. The restraints of religion, and the
prospect of a future judgment, would no longer
deter from the commission of crimes; and nothing
but the dread of the dungeon, the gibbet, or the
rack, would restrain mankind from the constant
perpetration of cruelty, injustice, and deeds of
violence. No social prayers, from assembled mul-
titudes, would be offered up to the Father of mer-
cies; no voice of thanksgiving and praise would
ascend to the Ruler of the skies; the work of
creation, as displaying the perfections of the
Deity, would cease to be admired and comme-
morated; and the movements of Providence, and
the glories of redemption, would be overlooked
and disregarded. The pursuit of the objects of
time and sense, which can be enjoyed only for a
few fleeting years, would absorb every faculty of
the soul; and the realities of the eternal world
would either be forgotten, or regarded as idle
dreams. In short, were the Sabbath abolished,
or, were the law which enforces its observance to
be reversed, man would be doomed to spend his
mortal existence in an utibroken series of inces-
sant labor and toil; his mental powers would lan-
guish, and his bodily strength would be speedily
wasted. Habits of cleanliness, civility of deport-
ment, and decency of apparel, would be disre-
garded; and the persons, and the habitations of
the laboring classes, would soon resemble the
fllthiness and the wretched objects which aro
seen in the kraal of a Hottentot. Their minds
would neither be cheered with the ])rospect of sea-
sons of stated repose in this world, nor with the
hope of eternal rest and joy in the world to come.

THK FIFTH COMMAND.MF,.\T.

" Honor thy Father and thy Mother."

The four preceding commandments, whose im-
portance I have endeavored to illustrate, were
written on a separate tablet from those that fol-
low, and have been generally considered as en-
joining the practice of piety, cr those duties

76

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

which more immediately respect God as their ob-
ject. But they tdso include the duties we owe to
ourselves; for in yielding obedience to these re-
quireinenls, we promote our best interests in this
world, and are gradually prepared for participa-
ting in the enjoynu-nts of the world to come. —
Tiiese laws are binding upon angels and archan-
gels, and upon every class of intelligent beings,
in whatever quarter of the universe their local
residence may be found, as well as upon the in-
habitants of the earth. The fourth command-
ment, indited, in so fur as regards the particular
portion of time to be set apart for the worship of
God, may possibly be peculiar to the inhabitants
of our world. Even although the inhabitants of
such a world as the planet Jupiter v/ere com-
manded to set apart every seventh natural day
for the stated public v/orship of God, the propor-
tion of absolute time allotted for this purpose,
would not be the same as ours; for the natural
day in tliat world is equal to only ten hours of
our time. But the spirit of this precept, or, the
principle on which it is founded, must be common
to all worlds. For we can conceive of no class
of intelligent creatures, on whom it is not obli-
gatory to devote a certain portion of time for the
social worship and adoration of their Creator, and
for commemorating the displays of his Power and
Benevolence; and all holy intelligences will cheer-
fully join in such exercises, and will consider it
as a most ennobling and delightful privilege, to
engage at stated seasons, along with their fellow-
worshipers, in admiring and extolling the Un-
created Source of their enjoyments. But the
stated seasons appointed by the Creator for such
solemn acts of worship, the manner and circurn-
Btauces in which they shall be performed, and the
number of worshipers that may assemble on such
occasions, may be different in different worlds,
according to the situations in which they are
placed.

The fifth commandment, to which I am now to
advert, is one of those moral regulations which
may possibly be peculiar to the relations which
exist in our world; at least, it cannot be supposed
to apply to the inhabitants of any world vv'here
the relations of parents and children, of superi-
ors and inferiors, are altogether unknown. But,
in the circumstonces in which man is placed, it is
a law indispensably requisite ""or preserving the
order and happiness of the social system. — It re-
quires the exercise of those dispositions, and the
performance of those duties, which are incumbent
upon mankind, in the various relations in which
they stand to each other. It, consequently, in-
cludes within its spirit and references, the duties
which children owe to their parents, and parents
to their children; the duties of husbands and
wives, of masters and servants, of teachers and
scholars, of brothers and sisters, of the young
and the old, and of governors and their subjects;
together with all those dispositions of reverence,
submission, affection, gratitude, and respect, with
which the performance of these duties ought to
be accompanied. It must also he considered as
forbidding everj'thing that is opposed to these
dispositions, and to the obedience required; as
contumacy, rebellion, and want of respect, on the
part of children toward their pai-ents; disobedi-
ence of servants to the reasonable commands of
their masters; and every principle of disaffection
and of insubordination among the various ranks
of society. That all this is included within the
range of this precept, might be proved from the
principles on which our Saviour explains the sia^h
and seventh commandments, in his Sermon on the

Mount, and from the illustrations of these duties
which are given in the Apostolic epistles, and in
other parts of Scripture.

As it forms no part of my plan, to cuter into
any particular explanations of the duties required
in the Decalogue, which have frequently been
expounded by many respectable writers, in works
particularly appropriated to this object, — I shall
simplj' illustrate, in a few words, the reasonable-
ness of this, and the following precepts, from a
consideration of the eflccts which would follow,
were these laws either universally observed, or
universally violated.

Were this law to be reversed, or universally
violated, it is impossible to form an adequate con-
ception of the dreadful scene of anarchy and con-
fusion which would immediately ensue. Every
social tie would be torn asunder, every relation
inverted, every principle of subordination de-
stroyed, every government overturned, every rank
and order of mankind annihilated, and the whole
assembly of human beings converted into a dis-
cordant mass of lawless banditti. Every family
would present a scene of riot, confusion, insub-
ordination, contention, hatred, tumult, and inces-
sant execration. Instead of love, peace, unity,
and obedience, the son would rise in rebellion
against his father, and the father would insult and
trample under foot his son. To use the words of
our Saviour, " The brother would deliver up the
brother to death, and the father the child; an*^
the children would rise up against their parents,
and cause them to be put to death; the daughter
would be set at variance against her mother, and
the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law;
and a man's foes would be they of his own house-
liold." Children would be unprovided with pro-
per food, clothing, and instruction, and left to
wafider, houseless and forlorn, as vagabonds on
the face of the earth; and parents, abandoned by
their children, in sickness, poverty, and old age,
would siak into the grave in wretchedness and
despair. The young, instead of " rising up be-
fore the hoary head, and honoring the face cf the
old man," would treat the aged and infirm with
ever)'' mark of scorn, derision, and contempt; and
would feel a diabolical delight in vexing, thwart-
ing, and overpowering their superiors in age and
station. No instructions could be communicated
by teachers and guardians to the rising genera-
tion; for riot, insolence, insult, derision, and con-
tempt, would frustrate every effort to communi-
cate knowledge to a youthful group. No build-
ing or other work of art could be commenced
with the certain prospect of being ever finished;
for its progress would depend upon the whima
and humors of the workmen employed, who, of
course, would rejoice in endeavoring to frustrate
the plans and wishes of their employers. No re-
gular government nor subordination in a large
corhmuitity, could possibly exist; for the great
mass of society would endeavor to protect every
delinquent, and would form themselves into a
league to prevent the execution of the laws. —
These effects would inevitably follow, even al-
though the requisition contained in this precept,
were to be viewed as confined solely to the reve-
rence and obedience which children owe to theii
parents. For, were this obedience with.drawn, j

and an opposite dispositioiiy^kconduct uniform- ^

ly manifested, the youn^J^^ff carry the saioa
dispositions wlrf^^iliey d^^^ed toward tiieir pa-
rents, into all the other scenes and relations of
life, and fill the world with anarchy and confu-
sion. But it would be needless to expatiate on this
topic, as it appears obvious to the least reflecting

LAW IN RELATION TO ATURDER.

77

mind, tliat a universal violution of this law would
quite unhinge tho whole fabric of societj', and
"A'ould Boon put an end to the harmonious iuter-
coun'e of human beings.

On the otlier hand, a constant and universal
obedience to tliis i)reoept would produce such ef-
fects on thi^ delormed aspect of our world as
would Iransforni it into a paradise of moral beau-
ly, of happiness and love. Every family would
eixhibit a picture of peace and concord, of har-
mony and affection. No harsh and bitter lan-
guage, no strifes, nor jars, nor contentions would
ever interrupt the dehghtful flow of reciprocal
aficction between parents ami children. No longer
Bhould we behold the little perverse members of
tbe domestic circle, indulging their sulkj' humors,
and endeavoring to thwart the wishes of their su-
periors, nor the infuriated parent stamping and
raging at the obstinacy of hiscliildren; nor sliould
wo hear the grating sounds of discord, and insub-
ordination which now so frequently issue from the
family mansion. Every parental command would
be cheerfully and promptly obeyed. Reverence
end filial affection would glow in everj' youthful
breast toward the father that begat him, and to-
ward the mother that gave him birth. Their per-
sons, and their characters would be regarded with
veneration and respect, and their admonitions
submitted to without a murmur or complaint. —
To gladden the hearts of their parents, to run at
the least signal of ti\pir will, to share in their be-
nignant smile or approbation, and to avoid every
species of conduct that would produce tlie least
uneasiness or i)ain — would be the unceasing aim
of all the youthful members of the family circle.
In sickness, they would smooth their pillows, and
alleviate their sorrows, watch like guardian angels
arou)id their bed, drop the tear of affection, and
pour the balm of consolation into their wounded
jp.ritK. In the decline of life, they would min-
ister with tenderness to their support and enjoy-
ment, guide their feeble steps, sympatiiize witir
them in tl>eir infirmities, cheer and animate their
dejected spirits, and render their passage to the
tomb smootii and comfortable. And how de-
lighted would every parent feel amidst such dis-
Elays of tenderness and affection! There is per-
aps uotiiing in tiie whole range of human.enjoy-
ment that creat'-~s a higher and more unmiiigled
gratification to parents, than the dutiful and af-
fectionate conduct of their offspring. Jt sweeteiis
b11 the bitter ingredients of human life,,and adds
a relish to all its other comforts and enjoyments.
It imparts a continual satisfaction and serenity to
the parental breast; it smooths the^wrinkles of
age; it cheers the spirits under thejjjgfifmiti.-s of
declining nature, and makes the Jpngbed of old
age comfortable and easy. ATra the joy and
satisfaction thus felt by parents w6uldbe reflect-
ed into the bosom of their children; wHich would
produce a union of interests, a cordiality of affec-
tion, and a peace and tranquillity of mind in
every member of the family, which no adverse
occurrences in future life could ever effectually
destroy.

From the family circle the emanations of filial
piety would spread and diffuse tiiemselves through
all the other departments of society. The same
spirit of love and dutiful respect which united
and endeared parents to children, and children to
parents, would unite one family to another, one
village to anotlier, one city to another, one pro-
vince to anoth(^r, one kingdom and empire to an-
other, until all the tribes of the human race were
united in kindness and affection, as one great and
lamionious family. Every dutiful child would

become a faithful and obedier,t servant, a docile
scholar, and a loyal and submissive subject, when
placed in those relations; and would prove a
blessing and an ornament to every society of
which he was a member. And every dutil'ul and
affectionate parent, when placed in the station of
a king, or a subordinate ruler, would display a
j)areutal affection toward every member of the
community over which he was appointed. Hence
it might easily be shown, that an uninterrupted
and universal observance of this single precept,
viewed in all its connections and bearings, would
completelj' regenerate tht world — and that the
peace, the harmony, and the prosperity of all the
nations of the earth, will ultimately depend on
the spirit of filial piety being infused into every
family. " Honor thy father and thy mother,"
says the Apostle, " which is the first comniand-
meut with promise; that it may be well teit/i thet,
and that thou tnayest live long upon the earth." —
These words, which are frequently repeated in
Scripture, are not empty sounds; nor ought they
to be deprived, even under the Christian dispensa-
tion, of their obvious and literal meaning. Filial
piety has a natural tendency to produce health,
long life, and prosperity; and could we trace the
whole of the secret history of Providence in re-
ference to this precept, we should, doubtless, find
this position abundantly exemplified. At any
rate, were it universally practiced, it would carry
along with it a train of blessings which would
convert the tumults and convulsions of nations
into peace and tranquillity, and transform the
moral wilderness of this world into a scene of
verdure, beauty, and loveliness, which would en-
rapture the mind of every moral intelligence; and
among its other benefits, " length of days, and
long life and peace," would undoubtedly " be
added" to the other enjoyments of mankind.

THE SIXTH CO>DIAN'DME.\T

'■• Thou skalt not kill.''

This precept forbids the taking away of the life
of sensitive or intelligent existence. The com-
maod'is absolute, without the least exception, as
it stands in the Decalogue; and it is universal, ex-
tend iug to every rational and moral agent. It
implies, that as every sensitive and every intelli-
gent being derived its existence from the omni-
potent Creator of heaven and earth, no one has a
right to deprive it of that existence, except that
Being by whom it was bestowed. And, whatever
exceptions to tlie universality of tlds law may be
a^j^tted, they can be admitted only on the author-
ity of the Lawgiver himself, who is the Original
Fountain of existence to all his creatures. The
principal exceptions to this law are the follow-
ing:— 1. The man who has violently taken away
the life of another is commanded, by the authori-
ty of God, to he put to death. "Whoso shed-
deth man's blood, by man shall his blood be
shed." This is the dictate of reason as well as of
revelation; for no human power can recall thb
departed spirit, or re-animate the lifeless corpse,
and no adequ.ite compensation can ever oe given
for such a crime.* 2. The life of the lower ani-

• Notwithstanding the consiilerations here cLateJ, the
Author is (ioiibtful w-hether the Cre.itor has conocdml to man
the Tizht ol" takino^ away the life of another, even in case of
muriler. If the passape here quoted onjrht to be consideret!
as a iirciUcliiin rather than a law, as is most prohahle, it will
artbrd no w.irrant for the destruction of human life; and
there is no other injunction of this kind which has any rela-
tion to tlie New Testament dispensatioa.

78

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

mals is permitted by tho same authority to be
taken away when tliese animals are necessary for
our food, or when Hieij endanger our existence. Tliis
permission was first granted, immediately after
the Hood, to Noah and his descendants. " God
Baid to Noah and his sons, everything that moveth
shall be meat for you; even as the green herb
have I given you all things." Without such a
positive grant from the Creator, man could have
had no more right to take away the life of an ox
or a sheep, than he has to imbrue his hands in the
blood, or to feast on the flesh of his fellow-men.
To take the life of any sensitive being, and to
feed on its flesh, appears incompatible with a state
of innocence; and, therefore, no such grant was
given to Adam in paradise; nor does it appear
tliat the Antediluvians, notwithstanding their enor-
mous crimes, ever feasted on the flesh of animals.
It appears to have been a grant suited only to the
degraded state of man after the deluge; and, it is
probable, that as he advances in the scale of mo-
ral perfection, in the future ages of the world,
the use of animal food will be gradually laid
aside, and he will return again to the productions
of the vegetable kingdom, as the original food of
man, and as that which is best suited to the rank
of rational and moral intelligence. And, perhaps,
it may have an influence, in combination with
other favorable circumstances, in promoting health
and longevity. — But, although the inferior ani-
mals are, in the meantime, subjected to our use,
no permission is granted to treat them with harsh-
ness or cruelty, or to kill them for the sake of
sport and amusement. And, therefore, the man
who wantonly takes away the lives of birds, hares,
fishes, and other animals, for the mere gratifica-
tion of a taste for hunting or fishing, can scarcely
be exculpated from the charge of a breach of this
commandment.

The above are the principal exceptions which
the Creator has made in reference to the law un-
der consideration. And it may not be improper
to remark, that, beside the direct act of murder,
everything that leads to it, or that has a tendency
to endanger life, is to be considered as forbidden
in this ccmmandment. All unkindness and harsh
treatment exercised toward servants, dependents,
and brute animals, by which life may be short-
ened or rendered intolerable — all furious and re-
vengeful passions, which may lead to acts of vio-
lence— all quarreling, fighting, and boxing, either
for bets, or for the gratification of hatred or re-
venge— all wishes for the death of others, and all
contrivances either direct or indirect to compass
the destruction of our neighbor — all criminal
negligence by which our own life or the life of
others may be endangered or destroyed — and all
those actions by which murder may be committed
as a probable effect, as the burning of inhabited
houses, and of throwing of the instruments of
death into the midst of a crowd — are to be re-
garded as involving the principle of murder, as
well as the direct acts of suicide, dueling, and as-
sassination; and, consequently, as violations of
that law which extends to the secret purooses of
the heart, as well as to the external actions. Even
unreasonable anger, malice, and scurrility are
declared by our Saviour to be a species of mur-
der: "Whosoever is angry with his brother with-
out a cause, shall be in danger of the judgment,
and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca,"
that is, thou worthless empty fellow, " shall be in
danger of the council."* Life is desirable only

• Math. V. 22. Christ, in this pas?age, refers to a conrt
among the Jews, compoied of twenty-three men, wherein

as it is connected with enjoyment, and, therefore^
when a man treats his brother with such a degree
of hatred and scurrility, as to render his exist-
ence either unpleasant or intolerable, he ought to
be ranked among the class of murderers. For the
apostle John declares, without the least limitation,
that "whosoever hateth his brother is a mur-
derer, and he that loveth not his brother abidetb
in death." And, if this criterion be admitted, a
train of murderers will be found exisf.ng in soci
ety far more numerous than is generally supposed

It would be needless to attempt an illustration
of the consequences which would ensue, were the
breach of this law to become universal. It is ob-
vious, on the slightest reflection, that were this
to happen, human society would soon cease to ex-
ist. That prophesy which was given forth re-
specting Ishmael would then receive a most terri-
ble and extensive accomplishment, in the case of
every human agent: " His hand shall be against
every man, and every man's hand against him."
Every man would assume the character of an in-
fernal fiend; every lethal weapon would be pre-
pared and furnished for slaughter; every peaceful
pursuit and employment would be instantly aban-
doned; the voice of wailing and the yells of fury
and despair, would be heard in every family, in
every village, in every city, in every field, in
every kingdom, and in every clime. Every house,
every street, every valley, every forest, every
river, every mountain, and every continent,would
be strewed with fearful devastation, and with the
mangled carcasses of the slain. The work of de-
struction would go on with dreadful rapidity, until
the whole race of man were extirpated from the
earth, leaving this vast globe a scene of solitude
and desolation, an immense sepulcher, and a spec-
tacle of horror to all superior intelligences. — And
let it be remembered, that such a picture, horri-
ble and revolting as it is, is nothing more thar
what would be the natural result of the principle
of hatred, were it left to its native energies, and
were it not controlled, in the course of provi-
dence, by him who sets restraining bounds to the
wrath of man.

In order to counteract the tendencies of this
baleful principle, it is of the utmost importance
that youth be trained up in habits of kindness,
tenderness, and compassion, both toward human
beings, and toward the inferior animals; that an
abhorrence should be excited in their minds of
quarreling, fighting, and all mischievous tricks
and actions; that they be restrained from the in-
dulgence of malicious and resentful passions; that
every indication of a crael and unfeeling dispo-
sition be carefully counteracted; and that every
tendency of the heart toward the benevolent af-
fections, and every principle of active beneficence
be cultivated and cherished with the most sedu-
lous care and attention. For, in youth, the foun-
dation has generally been laid of those malevolent
principles and passions which have led to robbery
assassination, and deeds of violence, — which havB
filled the earth with blood and carnage; and which
have displayed their diabolical energy in so dread-
ful a manner amidst the contests of communities
and nations.

Were the disposition to indulge hatred, which
leads, to every species of murder, completely

capital sentences njight he passed, on which the malefactoj
might be strangled or beheaded: this was called the Judg-
ment. But the Sanhedrim, or Council, was the supreme
Jewish court, consisting of «cticreti/-<2/;o; in which the high-
est crimes were tried^ which they, and they alone, pnnished
with stonins, which was considered a more terrible death
than the former.

LAW OF MARRIAGE.

79

counternclod, tho greatest proportion of tlioso
evils wliicli now afflict our world, would cease to
exist. Human sacrifices would no longer bleed
upon Pagan altars; tho American Indians would
no longer torture to death their prisoners taken
in war, nor the New Zealanders feast upon the
flesfi and the blood of their enemies. The widows
of llindostan would no longer bo urged to burn
themselves alive on the corpses of their deceased
husbands; nor would tiie mothers of China imbrue
their hands in the blood of their infant oflVpring.
The practice of Dueling would forever cease, and
would be universally execrated as an outrage on
common sense, and on evcrj' generous and hu-
mane feeling, and as the silly attempt of a puny
mortal to gratify wounded pride or disappointed
ambition, at the expense of the life of his fellow-
creature. Despotism would throw aside its iron
Boepter, and the nations would be ruled with the
law of love; and plots, conspiracies, treasons, and
massacres would be attempted no more. The
llres of the Incpiisition would cease to be kindled,
tlie supposed heretic would no longer be consigned
to the horrors of a gloomy dungeon, racks and
gibbets and guillotines would be sliivered to pieces
and thrown into the flames, and the spirit of cru-
elty and persecution would be extirpated from the
earth. Riot, tumult, and contention would be
banished from our streets, and harmony and con-
cord would prevail throughout all our borders.
War would forever cease to desolate the nations;
tlie confused noise of invading armies, the sounds
of martial music, the groans of dying victims, and
Uio hoarse shouts of conquerors, would be heard
no more. Peace would descend from heaven to
dwell with man on earth; prosperity would follow
in her train, science would enlarge its boundaries
and shed its benign influence upon all ranks; the
useful arts would flourish and advance toward per-
fection; philantliropy would ditfuse its thousand
blessings in every direction, and every man would
"it " under his vine and fig-tree" in perfect secu-
ity from all danger or annoyance.

SEVENTH C05IJIA\DMENT.

« Thou shalt not commit adultery."

This commandment is to be viewed as compre-
hending within its prohibition, every species of
lewdness, both in thought, word, and action; as
adultery, fornication, incest, polygamy, &c.; and
likewise all those licentious desires and affections
' from which such actions proceed. In this com-
prehensive sense it is explained by our Saviour,
in his Sermon on the Mount, and by the Apos-
tles, in their letters to the Christian Churches. It
is founded on the distinction of sexes which exists
among mankind, and on the law of Marriage,
which was promulgated immediately after the
creation of the first pair — a law which was in-
tended to liinif, and to regulate the intercourse of
the sexes; and to promote purity, affection, and
order, among the several generations of mankind.
By this law the marriage union is limited to two
individuals. He who made mankind at the begin-
ning, says Christ, made them male and female,
and said, " P'or this cause shall a man leave father
and mother and shall cleave to his loife; and they
twain shall he one flesh." And, it might easily
be shown, from an induction of facts, and from a
consideration of the present circumstances of the
human race, that this law, and this alone, is cal-
culated to promote the mutual atFection of the
married pair, aiid to secure the peace and happi-
uess of famil cs, and the har nony of general so-

ciety. By this law the union is made permanent,
so long as the parties exist in this world. " What
God hath joined, let no man put asunder." This
regulation has a tendency to promote union of af-
fection and interests, and to induce the parties to
bear with patience the occasional inconveniences
and contentions which may arise. Were divorces
generally permitted, on the ground of unsuitablo-
ness of temper, or occasional jars, society would
soon be shaken to its center. Every real or sup-
posed insult, or provocation, would be followed
out, until it terminated in the separation of the
parties; families would thus be torn into shreds;
the education of the young would be neglected;
parental authority disregarded; and a door opened
for the prevalence of unbounded licentiousness
Soon after the commencement of the Revolution
in France, a law, permitting divorces, was passed
by the National Assembly; and, in less than three
months from its date, nearly as many divorces aa
marriages were registered in the city of Paris. In
the whole kingdom, within the space of eighteen
months, upward of twenty thousand divorces
were effected; and tho nation sunk into a state
of moral degradation, from the effects of which it
has never yet recovered. This is one of the many
practical proofs presented before ns, of the danger
of infringing on any of the moral arrangementa
which the Creator has established.

The precept under consideration is to be consi
dered as directly opposed to all promiscuous and
licentious intercourse between the sexes. And
the reasonableness of this prohibition will appear,
if we consider, for a moment, what would be the
consequences which would inevitably follow were
this law to. be set aside, or universally violated. A
scene of unbounded licentiousness would ensue,
which would degrade the human character, which
would destroj' almost all the existing relations of
society, and unhinge the whole fabric of the moral
world. — One end of the institution of marriage
was to " replenish the earth" with inhabitants, to
perpetuate the successive generations of men, and
to train up a virtuous and intelligeijt race to peo-
ple the congregation of the heavens. But this
end would be ultimately frustrated, were a pro-
miscuous and unlimited intercourse to become
either general or universal. For, it has been
^pnnd, that, wherever such intercourse partially
'prevails, it strikes at the root of human existence,
and has a tendency to prevent the operation of
that law which the Creator impressed on all living
beings, " Increase and multiply." In the haunts
of licentiousness, in large cities, and in all such
societies as those which formerly existed in Ota-
heite, under the name of Arreoy, the laws of na-
ture are violated, the course of generation ob-
structed, and numbers of human beings strangled
at the very porch of existence. So that were
mankind at large to relapse into such licentious
practices, the human race, instead of increasing in
number, to replenish the desolate wastes of our
globe, according to the Creator's intention, would
rapidlj' decrease every succeeding generation,
until after the lapse of a few centuries, human
beings would be entirely extirpated, and the earth,
barren and uncultivated, would be left to the do-
minion of the beasts of the forest.

But, although such a distant event were to be
altogether disregarded, the immediate conse-
quences of such unhallowed courses would be
dismal in the extreme. That union of heart, af-
fection, and of interests, which subsists between
tiic great majority of married pairs, and those reci-
]>rocal sympathies and endearments which flow
from this union, would be altogether unknown

80

THE PHILOSOrilY OF RELIGION

The fL>>na'ie sex (ns already hapj)en3 in some na-
tions), vviih miji'^s uncultivated mid unpoii.'jhed,
would be dejfra<JL»d into mere instruments of sensi-
tive enjoyment, into household slaves, or into
something auaU.ijOus to beasts of burden, and
would be bought ^nd sold like cattle and horses.
The minds of all would be degraded to the level
of brutes, and wov.ld be incapable of prosecuting
either rational or r-,.iigious pursuits. Their bodies
would be wasted a^.l enfeebled with squalid dis-
ease: the infirmities qI a premature old age would
seize upon them; aurj before they had " lived half
their days," they woiild sink into the grave in
hopelessness and sorrow. A universal sottish-
ness and disregard of everything except present
sensual enjoyment, would seize upon the whole
mass of society, and benumb the human faculties:
the God of heaven would be overlooked, and the
important realities of an immortal existence com-
pletely banished from" their thoughts and affec-
tions. Thousands, and ten thousands of infants
v^ould be strangled at their entrance into life; and
tlie greater part of those who were spared, would
be doomed to a wretched and precarious exist-
ence. The training up of the youthful mind to
knowledge and virtue would be quite neglected;
and all that civility and softness of manners,
which are now acquired under the eye of parental
authority and afFoction, would be unknown in
society. The endearing relations of father and
mother, of brothers and sisters, of uncles, aunts,
and cousins, and all the other rcunifications of
kindred, which now produce so many interesting
and delightful associations, would fail to be recog-
nized among men; for in such a state of society,
the natural relations of mankind would be either
disrfigarded, or blended in undistinguishable con-
fusion.

Children, neglected or abandoned by their mo-
tliers, would be left to the full influence of their
own wayward and impetuous passions; they
would depend for subsistence, either on accident,
on pilfering, or on the tender mercies of general
society; they would wander about as vagabonds,
tattered and forlorn; tlieir hearts shriveled with
unkindness, their bodies chilled with the rains and
biting frosts, and deformed with filthiness and dis-
ease. They would be left to perish in the open
fields, without a friend to close their eyes; and their
bodies, unnoticed and unknown, would remain as
a prey, to be devoured by the fowls of heaven. In
every land would be seen multitudes of houseless
and shivering females, set adrift by their seducers,
wandering with their hungry and half famished
offspring, the objects of derision and contempt;
and imploring, in vain, the comforts of food, of
shelter, and protection. For, among human be-
ings, in such a degraded state, the kindly and be-
nevolent affections would seldom be exercised;
cold-blooded selfishness and apathy, in relation to
the sufferings of others, would supplant all the
finer feelings of humanity; which would dispose
them to view the wretched objects around them
with perfect indifference, and even with contempt.
" However it may be accounted for," says Dr.
Paley, " the criminal commerce of the sexes cor-
rupts and depraves the mind, and the moral cha-
racter, more than any single species of vice what-
soever. That ready perception of guilt, that
prompt and decisive resolution against it, which
constitutes a virtuous character, is seldom found
in persons addicted to these indulgences. They
prepare an easy admission for every sin that seeks
It; are, in low life, usually the first stage in men's
progress to the most desperate villanics: and, in
nigh life, to that lamented dissoluteness of prin-

ciple which manifests itself in a profligacy of pub.
lie conduct, and a contempt of the obligations of
religion and of moral probity. Add to this, that
habits of libertinism incapacitate and indispose
tiio )nind for all intellectual, moral, and religjoua
pleasures." *

In short, in such a state of society as would
inevitably accompany a general violation of th«
seventh precept of the moral law, all the softnes»
and loveliness of filial piety, of parental aft'cction,
of brolherly attachment, and of the intercourse of
kindre;!, would forever cease; science and litera-
ture vvi-uld be neglected; and churches, colleges,
schools, and academies would crumble into ruins;
a suflici lit stimulus would be Vkfanting to the ex-
ercise of industry and economy; a lazy apathy
would seize upon the mass of society; the earth
would cease to be cultivated, and would soon bo
covered with briars and thorns, or changed into
the barren wastes of an African desert. TliB
foundation of all regular government would be
undermined; for it is chiefly in those nabus of
submission and obedience which are acquired un-
der the domestic roof, that the foundations are laid
of that subordination which is necessary to secure
the peace and order of mankind. Society would,
consequently, be thrown into a state of disorder,
and would speedily sink into oblivion, in the mira
of its own pollution.

Tiie positions now stated could be illustrated,
were it expedient, by a variety of melancholy
facts, borrowed from the histoiy and the present
state, both of savage and of civilized nations. The
annals of Turkey-, of Persia, of Hindostan, of
China, of Japan, of the Society Isles, and even
of the civilized nations of Europe and America,
\vould furnish abundance of impressive facts, to
demonstrate the demoralizing, and brutalizing,
and miserable effects which would flow from a
spirit of universal licentiousness. — What revolt-
ing scenes would open to view, were we to survey
the haunts of licentiousness which abound in Al-
giers, in Constantinople, in Teheran, in Pekin, in
Canton, in Jeddo, and other populous cities, where
the restraints of Christianity are altogether un-
known! In such receptacles of impurity^ every
moral feeling is blunted, and every moral prin-
ciple abandoned. Impiety, profanity, falsehood,
treachery, perjury, and drunkenness, rear their
unblushing fronts; and thefts, robberies, and mur-
ders, follow in their train. The unhappy- female
who enters these antechambers of hell, is, for tlie
most part, cut off" from all hopes of retreat. From
that moment, the shades of moral darkness begin
to close around her; she bids a last adieu to the
smiles of tenderness and sympathy, to the kind
embraces of father and mother, of sisters and bro-
thers, to the house of God, to the instructions of
his word, and to the society of the faithful. In-
stead of the cheering sounds of the Gospel of
peace, her ears become accustomed to oaths, and
curses, and horrid imprecations; the voice of con-
science is hushed amidst the din of revelry and
riot; every generous feeling is shrunk and with-
ered; she stalks abroad like a painted corpse to
fill with horror the virtuous mind, and to allure
the unwary to the shades of death; until al
length, wasted with consumption and oathsoma
disease, she is stretched upon the bed of languish-
ing, abandoned by her fonner associates, deprived
of the least drop of consolation, haunted with tiie
ghastly apparitions of departed joys, and the fore-
bodings of futurity, and sinks, " in the midst of

' Principles of Moral and Political PEilosopbv, Book III,
Pan HI, chap. 2.

EFFECTS OF HONESTY.

81

ner days," into the chambers of the grave, with-
out the least hope of a glorious resurrection. —
And if we consider, tliat this is a picture of the
wretchedness, not only of a few individuals, but
of thousands, of tens of thousands, and of millions
of human beings, it is impossible to describe the
accumulated mass of misery which impurity has
created, or to form any adequate conception of
the horrible and revolting scenes of wretcbedness
which would be displayed, were the law under
consideration to be set aside by all the inhabitants
of our globe.

There is a certain levity and flippancy of speech
in relation to this subject, which prevails among
many who wish to be considered as respectable
characters, which proceeds from a contracted
view of the consequences of human actions.
They conceive, that no great harm can be done
to society, by a few insulated actions of the kind
alluded to, especially if they be concealed from
general observation; and that the Creator will
be disposed to make every allowance for human
frailty. But let such remember that, if it were
right to violate this, or any other law of the Crea-
tor, in one instance, it would be right in a hun-
dred, in a thousand, in a million, and in eight
hundred millions of instances: and then all the
revolting scenes now described, and thousands of
similar effects, of which we cannot at present
form a distinct conception, would inevitably take
place. And, therefore, every man who, from
levity and thoughtlessness, or from a disregard to
t]ie laws of heaven, persists in the occasional in-
dulgence of such unhallowed gratifications, in-
dulges in a practice which, were it universally to
prevail, would sap the foundations of all moral
order, exterminate the most endearing relations
of society, prostrate man below the level of the
brute, open the flood-gates of all iniquity, dif-
fuse misery over the whole mass of human be-
ings, and, at length, empty the world of its inha-
bitants.

The precept which we have now been consider
iiig, is one which, in all probability, is confined,
in its references, to the inhabitants of our globe.
At any rate, it would be quite nugatory, and
therefore can have no place, in the moral code of
a world where the distinction of sexes does not
exist. And even in those worlds where a similar
distinction may exist, the very different circum-
stances in which their inhabitants are placed, may
render the promulgation of such a law altogether
unnecessary. It appears to be a temporary regu-
lation, to remain in force only during the limited
period of the present economy of Providence; for,
in the future destination of the righteous, we are
told, that " they neither marry nor are given in
marriage, but are as the angels of God in heaven."
And, therefore, it is probable, that the recognition
of such a law will not be necessary, in the inter-
courses which take place among redeemed men in
the eternal world; but the principle on which it
is founded, and from which it flows, will run
through all the other new relations and circum-
etances in which they may be placed. In the ex-
isting circumstances of mankind, however, the
operation of this law is essentially necessarj' to
the stability and the happiness of the moral world;
and, were its requisitions universally observed,
the melancholy scenes to which I have alluded
would no longer exist; the present and everlast-
ing ruin of thousands, and of millions, would
be prevented ; and a scene of happiness and
love, such as the world has never yet witnessed,
would be displayed among all the families of the
earth.

THE EIGHTH COMMANDMENT

." Tliou slialt not steal."

When the Creator had arranged our globe in
the form in which we now behold it, he furnished
it with everything requisite for tiie sustenance and
accommodation of living beings, and bestowed the
whole of its riches and decorations as a free grant
to the sons of men. To man ho said, "Eehold,!
have given you every herb bearing seed, which is
upon the face of all the earth, and every tree in
the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to
you it shall be for meat." Ever since the period
when this grant was made, God has not left him-
self without a witness to his benignity, in that he
has unceasingly bestowed on mankind " rain from
heaven, and fruitful seasons, filling their hearts
with food and gladness." The earth has, in every
age, brought forth abundance to supply the wants
of all the living beings it contains; and there is
still ample room on its surface, for the accommo-
dation and support of thousands of millions of the
human race, in addition to those which now exist
But mankind have never yet agreed about tlxe di-
vision and allotment of this free and ample gift
of the Creator; for every one is disposed to think
that his share in it is too small, and is continually
attempting to make inroads upon the allotment of
his neighbors. And to this disjjosition is to be
ascribed more than one half of all the evils which
have aftlicted the world in every age since the fall
of man. To counteract such a propensity in man-
kind, and to regulate their dispositions and con-
duct in relation to property, is the great object of
this command, " Thou shalt not steal."

To steal, is to take the property of others, with
out their knowledge or consent, and to apply it to
our own use. Tlie most flagrant and violent
breaches of the law, Consist in robbery, house-
breaking, pilfering, plunder, and pillage. But it
may be violated in a thousand different ways of
which human laws seldom take any cognizance.
It is violated by every species of fraud by which
our neighbor may be injured in his wealth or pro-
perty. It is violated in the ordinary commerce
of mankind, by the use of false weights and mea-
sures; by selling deteriorated commodities as if
they wei'e sound and good; by depreciating the
value of what we wish to buy, and concealing the
defects of what we wish to sell; bj' contracting
debts which we have no prospect of discharging,
and neglecting to pay them when they are due;
by breaches of trust, in the case of servants,
guardians, executors, or public ofricery, embezzling
and squandering away the substance of others, or
applying it to their own use. — It is also violated
by trespa-ssing on the property of others, so as to
injure fences, gardens, orchards, plantations or
cornfields; and by that disposition to vulgar mis-
chief which delights in breaking lamps, windows,
and fences; in injuring and defacing public build-
ings, walks, and ornamental improvements ; in
hacking and carving walls, wainscoting, doors,
and balustrades; and in cutting down trees and
shrubs planted for use or for oinanient. — It is vio-
lated when we retain borrowed articles beyond a
reasonable time, when we suffer them to be in-
jured through negligence, when we circulate them
from one person to another, without the knowledge
or consent of the proprietors, and when we apply
them to purposes for which they were never in-
tended, and which the lender never contemplated
In short, this law is violated by every species of
idleness, pride, vanity, gaming, and prodigality
which has a tendency to injure the external pro*

82

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

perity, cither of our own family, or of tho families
of others.

Were the law which forbids those actions to be
entirely set aside, or universally violated, it is easy
to foresee, that, in a very short time, the whole
assemblage of human beings would be transformed
into a set of lawless banditti. Peace, harmony,
and good neighborhood, would be unknown among
men; the strong would plunder the possessions of
the weak, and dejirive them of every enjoyment;
children would rob their parents, and parents their
children; brothers would jilunder brothers, and
servants their masters; buying and selling would
cease, and all regular trade and commerce would
be destroyed: every man's covetous eye would be
directed to the wealth and property of his neigh-
bor, with a view of depriving him of his enjoy-
ments; and a thousand schemes, either of treache-
ry or of open violence, would be contrived to
effectuate his purj)ose. Murders woidd be dailj'
contrived and perpetrated, for the purpose of more
easily obtaining possession of the wealth and es-
tates of the powerful and the opulent; and every
man's lif*^ and happiness would be at the mercy
of his covetous neighbor. The inhabitants of one
province would rise up against those of another,
and, by force of arms, plunder them of all their
earthly treasures. One nation would invade the
territories of another, for the purpose of ravaging
its cities and provinces, and of appropriating its
wealth and riches; and, in the midst of such law-
less depredations, towns would be demolished,
villages consumed to aslies, the fruits of the earth
destroyed, men, women, and children, trampled
und^ foot, and crushed to death, and every city
and fertile field would present a scene of carnage
and desolaticn. In such a state of society, no
man could have confidence in his brother; fear
would be on every side; uncertainty would attend
every pursuit and possession; of the wealth which
any one had acquired, and of the enjoyments
which he possessed to-day, he might be deprived
before to-morrow; and if, by means of circum-
spection and vigilance, and the strong arm of
power, he were enabled to maintain possession of
his property for one year, he could have no ra-
tional ground to expect, that he would enjoy it in
security for another. And, as no one would think
of engaging in regular labor, while he could sub-
sist in plundering his weaker neighbors — the earth
would soon be left uncultivated, the useful arts
would be abandoned, agricultural industry and
improvement would cease, and a universal famine
would overspread every land, which would thin
the human race, and gradually exterminate them
from the face of the earth.

Such scenes of plunder and depredation, have
in fact been partially realized in every age and
nation of the world, and are still realized, to a cer-
tain extent, even in nations which boast of their
progress in religion, in civilization, and in science.
The annals of the human race contain little more
than a number of melancholy records of whole-
sale robber)^ committed by one tribe of human
beings upon another. One public robber and des-
perado has arisen after another, in constant suc-
cesssion, and, at the head of numerous armies,
has violated the territories of peaceful industry,
demolished the habitations of their unoffending
inhabitants, broken down their furniture, and con-
signed it to the flames; wasted and devoured the
fruits of their ground, and plundered them of
everything which could render existence desirable.
■And the inferior ranks of mankind, stimulated by
the same principles which actuate their superiors,
bave supported a system of peculation, of cheat-

ing, of litigation, of injustice, and oppression
which, were it left solely to its own native ener-
gies, would soon undermine the foundations of
the moral world. That such principles and prac-
tices have never yet become universal in th«ir
operation, is not owing so much to any deficiency
in their malignant tendency, as to the overruling
providence of the Moral Governor of the worlds
who has, by his influence, and his physical ar-
rangements, confined the lawless passions of men
witiiin certain bounds, beyond which they cannot
pass.

Were a principle of honesty and justice, in re-
gard to property, to pervade the mind of every
human being; or in other words, were the law to
which I am now adverting universally recognized,
a new scene would open upon the moral world,
altogether different from what has hitherto beea
displayed in the transactions of mankind. Tlie
iron rod of oppression would be shivered to atoms,
and destroying armies would no longer ravage the
habitations of men. The crowds of sharpers,
cheats, and jockeys, that now stalk through tlie
world, with unblushing fronts, to entrap the un-
war}', would forever disappear from the world;
and impartial justice would reign triumphant over
every department of society. No malignant pur-
pose would ever be formed to injure any one in
his v/ealth and property; and all the harassing
law-suits and prosecutions, which now distress
so many thousands of families, would be swej>t
away. Every loan of money, books, furniture,
or utensils, would be returned without in-
jur}', and without unnecessary delay ; and
every debt punctually discharged, according to
the nature of the obligation, and at the period at
which it was due: Every bargain would be trans-
acted on the principles of immutable justice, and
the, conditions of every contract faithfully per-
formed: No suspicions of knavery would ever
harbor in the breast, nor the least alarm at tlie
possible consequences of any mercantile transac-
tion. Public buildings would be secure from the
inroads of the genius of mischief, and gardens
and orchards from every wanton depredation.
Locks, and bars, and bolts, would no longer be re-
quired for securing our substance from the pil-
ferer and the robber; and the iron gratings of a
bridewell or a jail, v/ould never again remind us
of the dishonesty and the depravity of man. Ser-
vants would be universally honest and trust-
worthy, and the property of their masters would
be regarded as a sacred deposit.

And what a happy change would such a state
of societj' introduce among mankind! What a
host of cares, anxieties, suspicions, vexations, and
perplexities, would be chased away! and what a
world of conveniences, and of delightful associa-
tions, would thus be created! Every merchant,
by marking the price and the quality of each com-
modity, might leave his goods open to tho inspec-
tion of the public, and enjoy himself in the bo-
som of his family, or in active services for the
good of the community, without the least risk of
loss or of depredations; and every purchaser might
depend upon procuring the articles he wanted at
their just value. Every traveler would prosecute
his journey, either by day or by night, without
the least apprehension from sharpers or robbers,
and without being harassed by the impositions
of inn-keepers, coachmen, carrieis, and porters.
Every one's mind would be at perfect ease, in re-
gard to his property, whether he were at home or
abroad, in health or in sickness; being firmly per-
suaded that every trust would be faithfully dis-
charged, and every commercial concern fairiy and

IMPORTANCE OF TRUTH.

83

ncnorab'y transacted. Se.iishness and rapacity
would (five place to a spirit of justice, equiLj-, and
beuiJVolcMico; contentions, jockeyiii;rs, and alter-
cations would cease; peace and concord would
prevail, and rigliteousncss and trutli would shed
their bmiign iuiluence over the whole brotherhood
of mankind.

THE Nr.XTII COM.MANDMENT.

''TJlOU shah not bear Jake witness ayainst thy
7iei(/hbor."

This command, like most of the others, is ex-
pressed in a negative form. It is directed against
every species of falseliood, and, confequently,
must be viewed as inculcating a sacred and uni-
versal auherence to truth, in all our thoughts,
words, and actions. In the remarks I may throw
out in relation to this precept, I shall consider it
chiefly in its positwe form, as commanding an in-
violable attachment to truth. Truth may he con-
sidered in tico different points of view — logical
truth, which consists in the conformity of a propo-
sition or assertion with tlie actual state of thinys;
and moral trutli, which consists in the ai/reement
of our words and actions with our thoughts. Lo-
gical truth belongs to the tldng or the fact asserted;
moral trutli, or what is termed veracity, has a re-
ference to the person who utters it. In botii these
respects, truth is of immense importance to all
intelligent beings. — The importance of truth and
veracity will appear from the following consi-
derations.

In the first place, it is the bond of society, and
the foundatir, n of all that confidence and inter-
course which subsist among rational beings. By
far the greater part of all tiie knowledge we pos-
•ess, has been derived from the testimony of oth-
ers. It is from the communication of others, and
from a reliance on their veracity, that those who
were never beyond the limits of Great Britain,
know that there are such cities as Paris, Vienna,
Constantinople, and Cairo; and that there are such
countries as Canada, Nova Scotia, Brazil, Peru,
Persia, China, and Hindostan. It is from the
eame source that we have learned the facts of an-
cient and modern history, and that there once
existed such empires as the Greek and Roman,
the Persian, Assyrian, and Babylonian. On the
same ground, the veracity of others, we confuie
in all tlie domestic relations and intercourses of
life; and on this ground all the transactions of
commercial society, and all the arrangements and
operations of government are conducted. On the
implied veracity of others, we retire from our
employments at certain hours, and sit down to
breakfast or dinner; and, on the first day of the
week, we assemble in a certain place, at an ap-
pointed hour, for religious worship. On this
ground, the pupil confides in his teacher, for in-
struction— the child in his parents, for sustenance,
clothing and protection, the master in his servant,
for the execution of his orders, and the wife in
hei husband for provision and support. We con-
fide every moment in the faithfulness of the Al-
mighty for tho regular return of day and night,
of summer and winter, of seed-lime and harvest.
Could the vrracity of God be inii)eached or ren-
dered Hal', ? to suspicion, we should remain in
awful suspense, whether another day would again
dawn upon the world, or whether the earth would
be shattered to pieces, and its fragments dispersed
throughout surrounding worlds, before tho sun
again appeared in the horizon. A Being possessed
of boundless knowledge and omnipotence, without

Vol. I.— 22

voracity, would be the terror of the whole intelli-
gent universe, and would fill them with universal
agitation and alarm.

Again, truth is the foundation of our present
comfort and of our future prospects. On the
veracity of those illustrious characters that have
gone before us, whose declarations were confirmed
by signs and miracles, we depend for tlie hope of
forgiveness and acceptance with God, and for
those rich sources of cousdlation which are cal-
ciilated to suj.-port the mind under the afilictions
of mortality, and to cheer and animate us in the
prospect of a future world. Our hopes of happi-
ness beyond the grave, of the resurrection of our
bodies at the ternnnation of the present plan of
providence — of the renovation of the ])liysical
system of our globe — of a complete restoration
to holiness and virtue — of a reunion with departed
friends — of associating with virtuous beings of a
superior order — of mingling in a happier world
with all those illustrious saints who have gone
before us — of contemplating tho manifestations
of Deity on a more extensive scale; and of en-
joying unmixed felicity without interruption and
without end; depend upon the testimony of the
inspired writers, and the light in which we view
the truths or declarations which they have re-
corded. And, therefore, the man who endeavors
to undermine the authority of the sacred records,
or to distort or misrepresent their meaning by so-
phistical reasonings, ought to be viewed as a de-
ceiver, and as an enemy to his species, who wishes
to deprive his fellow-men of their most substantial
enjoyments, and of their most cheering prospects.

Again, truth and veracity are of the utmost im-
portance in relation to the views we ought to take
of the character of God. The moral character
of the Deity is delineated in the Scriptures, and
wo are enabled to contemplate this character, iR
its true light, in so far as we understand and
appreciate tho delineations of the sacred writers.
But his character is also exhibited in the works
of creation and providence. Every physical law
of nature, every arrangement in the material sys-
tem, every movement which exists in the bound-
less universe; every apparent deviation from tho
general course of nature, us in the case of earth-
quakes and volcanoes; everj' event in the history
of nations, every fact in relation to the physical
and moral condition of the different tribes of the
human race, and every arrangement in reference
to the lower ranks of animated beings — embodies
in it an exhibition of certain aspects of the divine
character; and these aspects, if fairly represented,
ought to harmonize with the delineations contain-
ed in the sacred records. To ascertain such facts
as those to which I now allude, requires, in many
instances, the exercise of profound reasoning, and
of accurate investigation, and that the mind should
be free from the influence of prejudice and of
every improper bias, and that the facts, when as-
certained, be fairly represented, and accurately
recorded; otherwise, nothing but a f/isfor/ef/ view
of the divine character will be exhibited to the
mind. For example, if the earth be represented
as among the largest bodies in nature, and as
]>laced at rest in the center of the universe, and
that the sun, moon, and all the other celestial
orbs revolve around it every day, and consequent-
ly, that the planetary bodies move in orbits which
display inextricable confusion — such a represen-
tation is not a true exhibition of the God of heav-
en, but a phantom of our own imagination; and,
if carried out to all its legitimate consequences,
would involve an impeachment of the wisdom
and intelligence of the Deity, and of tho sublima

84

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

simplicity and order, which charactprize his ope-
rations in the miivorst\ ir tiie ])huR-t Saturn l)i!
ropresiMitod as a globe i)00 times larger tiian the
earth, an 1 surrouiidiMl with a ring Gl)i),090 miles in
circunirorence, it convej-s a very ditferent i.iea of
the iiiajesty of the divine B'ing who formed it,
from what "we are led to enlertaiu, when we con-
sider it as only a taper, or a hrilliant stud, fixed in
the vault of heaven. If the eye of a fly he cxlii-
biteJ as containing t:"n thousand polished trans-
parent globes, nicely adjusted for the purpose of
vision, it airplays the character of its Multer in a
different ii;r!it from that in which we might be dis-
posed to view it, when thi-; animal is represented
as a nuismco in creation, and designed only to bo
mangled and tortured by a cruel aud unthinking
school boy.

lu some instances the inaccurate statement of
a physical fact, or the false coloring put upon it,
may have a ten lency to endanger the ctern il in-
terests of minkind. Mr. Brydone, in his " Tour
tlirough Sicily," states, on the authority of a
priest, named Recupero, that, in sinking a pit
near Jaci, in the neighborhood of Mount ^Etna,
•'they pierced through seven distinct lavas, one
under the other, the surfaces of which were pa-
rallel, and most of them covered with a bed of
thick earth." From suppositions founded on
questionable data, he concluded, that " it requires
2000 years or upward to form but a scanty soil
on the surface of a lava," and, consequent! j"^, that
"the eruption which formed the lowest of these
lavas, must have flowed from the mountain at least
14000 j'ears ago." This pretended fact was, for a
while, triumphantly exhibited by skeptics, as an
unansw>.rable argument against the truth of the
Mosaic history; and its publication has, no doubt,
tended to stagger weak minds, aud to confirm the
infidel in his prejudices against the truth of Reve-
lation. But it lias been shown by eminent geo-
logist?, that the facts alludod to are grossly mis-
stated, and that no vegetable mold exists between
these beds of lava; and, consequently, the argu-
ment founded upon them goes for nothing. Mr.
Brydone hiiiiself, in the very same volume in
which t!ies3 pretended facts are stated, before he
had advanced twenty pages farther in his account
of the regions about Mount ^Etna, states a fact
which completely overturns all his preceding
reasonings and calculations. In describing the
country near Hybla, as having been " overwhelm-
ed by the lava of ^Etna, and having then become
totally barren," he adds, "in a second eruption,
by a shower of ashes from the mountain, it soon
resumed its ancient beauty and fertilitij." So that
it is iiere adtnittcd, that, instead of requiring a
perio I of 2)09 years, a bed of lava may speedily
be transformed into a beautiful and fertile region.
But even although such facts were fairly repre-
sente 1, — yea, although Mr. Brydone and the
Canon Recupero could have proved, to a demon-
stration, that the strata of the earth is not onl}-
fourteen thousand, but fourteen hundred thou-
sand yftars old, it would not in the least invalidate
asingl^ assertion contained in the Mosaic history;
for Moses describes only the arrangement of the
earth into its present form, but nowhere asserts,
that the materials of which our globe is composed
were created, or brought out of nothing, at the
period at which his history commences. The
circumstance, however, to which I have now ad-
verted, shows us of how much importance it is,
in many cases, that even a physical fact be fairly
stated, as well as the moral facts and the doctrines
contiiined in the Scriptures. For, since every fact
In the economy of nature, and in the history of

providence, exhibits a certain portion of tho di-
vine character, a very difTcrent view of this cha-
racter v.-ill be exhibited, according to tho dillorent
lights in whicli we view the divine operations.
And, therefore, every one who willfully misrepre-
sents a physical fact or law of nature, is a deceiver,
who endeavors to exhibit a distorted view of the
character of the Deity. It is nothing loss than a
man " bearing false witne.ss" against his Maker.

Again, veracity is of infinite importance in ro-
ference to our future improvement in the eternal
world. In that world, we have every reason to
believe our knowdedge of the attributes of God
will be enlarged, and our views of the range of
his operations in creation and providence extend-
ed far beyond the limits to wliich they are now
confined. But the Divine Being himself, from
the immateriality and immensity of his nature,
will remain forever invisible to all finite intelli-
gences; and hence he is described by the Apostle,
as "the King Eternal, Immortal, and Invmble,
whom no man hath seen or can .see." It is,
therefore, not only probable, but absolutely cer-
tain, that a great portion, perhaps the greatest
portion of our knowledge in that state, will b©
derived from tlie communications of other intel-
ligences. With intellectual beings of a higher
order wc shall hold the most intimate converse;
for we are informed, that "just men made per-
fect " will join "the innumerable company of
angels." These beings are indued with capa-
cious powers of intellect, and have long been
exercising them on the mo.st exalted objects. As
messengers from the King of heaven to the inha-
bitants of the earth, they have frequently winged
their way through the celestial regions, and sur-
veyed many of those glorious systems which Ha
hid from the view of mortals. Wo nave every
reason to believe, that they have acquired cxi)an-
sive views of the dispensations of the Almighty,
not only in relation to man, but in relation to
numerous worlds and intelligences in different
provinces of the empire of God. And, therefore,
they must be admirably qualified to impart ample
stores of information on the sublimest subjects, to
the redeemed inhabitants from our world. From
the communications of these intelligences v/o
may derive information of the order and arrange-
ments of other systems; of the natural scenery of
other worlds; ol the different orders of intellectual
beings who people them; of the means by which
they are carried forward in moral and intellec-
tual improvement; of the most remarkable events
which have happened in the course of their his-
tory; of the peculiar displays of divine glory that
may be made to them, aud of the various changes
through which they may have passed in the
course of the divine dispensations.

But the utility of all such sublime communica-
tions, and the delightful transports with which
they will be accompanied, will entirely depend
upon the immutable veracity of those moral in-
telligences who shall be employed in conreyi.-sg
information respecting the divine plans and opera-
tions. Nojictitious scenes and narrations will ba
invented, as in our degenerate world, to astonish
a gaping crowd; nothing but unvarnishr^d truth
will be displayed in that wor.d of light; and, the
real scenes which will be displayed, will infinitely
transcend, in beauty, in grandeur, and in interest
all that the most fertile imagination can conceive
Were a single falsehood to be told in heaven, v/tre
the tongue of an archangel to misrepresent a
single fact in the divine economy, or were the
least suspicion to exist that truth might be violat
ed in such communications, the mutual coufi-

VIOLATIONS OF TRUTH.

85

deiite of celestial intelligence^! would instantly be
shahon; aiKJ, from tluit moment, their intercourse
and tlieir Imppiiiess would be destroyed. Heiu:e.
we are repeatedly told, in tlie book of Revelation,
that, "^Vliosoever lovoth, or makctli a lie, shall in
no wise enter within the gates of tlie new Jeru-
salem." And, therefore, every one who expects
to be an inhabitant of that happy world, ought
now to cnllivate a strict regard to truth and vera-
city in all its researches, intercoui-ses, and com-
munications; otherwise he cannot be admitted,
from the very constitution of things, to t!ie society
of s lints and angels in the realms of bliss.

TtKis it appears, that truth is of the utmost im-
portance to all rational beings, as it forms the
BouT'ce of our knovvledgi', the foundation of all
serial intercourse, the ground of our present com-
fort and future prospects, the basis of all the views
we can take of the Divine character and opera-
tions, and of all our prospects of future improve-
m:';it ill the eternal world. It is the bond of
union among all the inhabitants of heaven; it is
the chain which connects liie whole moral uni-
verse: and it constitutes the immutable basis on
which rests the throne of the Eternal.

Ih the depraved society of our world, truth is
violate I in ton thousand different ways. It is
violated in thoughts, in words, in conversation,
in oral discourses, in writings, in printed books,
by gestures and by signs, by speaking, and by
rernrxining silent. It is violated in reference to
the diaracle.r of our nei^Jihnr, when we invent tales
of i.ciselioo.l respecting him; when we listen with
plea?:ure to such tales when told by others; when
we sit mut', and refuse to vindicate his character
when it is unjustly aspersed; when we endeavor
to aggravate the circumstances v/hich may have
drci<ni|)anied any criminal action; when we make
no allowances for the force of temptation, and the
peculiar circumstances in which the criminal may
have been placed; when we fix upon an insulated
act of vie or folly, and apply it to our neighbor
as a gMieral character; when we rake up, witli a
nial .tvolent design, an action which he has long
since reprobated and repented of; when his cha-
ract'T is made th; suhjict of jest or merriment,
luui when, by smiles, and noddings, and gestures.
We i.i.iauate anything injurious to his reputa-
tion. It is violated in promiaes — when we pro-
rhi.-!", either what we have no intention of per-
foriiiiug, or what we had no right to promise, or
wImI is out of our power to perform, or what
would be unlawful for us to execute. It is vio-
lati>d in threatening^, when we neglect to put
them in execution, or we threaten to inflict what
would be either cruel or unjust. It is violated
iii hhiory, when the principal facts are blended
with doubtful or fictitious circumstances; when
the conduct of liars and intriguers, of public rob-
bers and murderers, is varnislied over with the
f;dse glare of heroism and of glory; and when the
arti.ius of upright men are, without sufficient
evi.ience, attributed to knavery, or to the influ-
ence of fanaticism; when the writer construes
aclions and events, and attributes to the actors
motives and designs, iu accordance with his own
piejuiices and passions, and interweaves his opi-
nions and deductions, as if they were a portion of
the authenticated records of historical fact. — It is
violated in the invention of fictitious narratives,
an I in the relation of marvelous stories, when
the system of nature is distorted, historical facts
caricatured, misrepresented, and blended with the
vagaries of a romantic imagination; when scenes,
eveiits, and circumstances, "which never did nor
can take place," are presented to the view, mere-

ly to convey a transient gratification to trifling
and indolent minds.

It is violated by men of science, when they give
an inaccurate statement of the results of their ob-
servations and experiments; when, either through
carelessness or design, they give an unfair repre-
sentation of the facts and principles in nature, in
order to support a favorite system or hypothesic:;
and when they studiously keep out of view tho
various circumstances in which every fact should
be coiitemplated. — It is violated in the literary
world, when the editor of a magazine or a review
writes an article, and addressos it to himself, a.s if
it came from the pen of another; when for the sake
of '• filthy lucre," or to gratify a friend, he bestows
enco!uiun)s on a work which is unworthy of the
attention of the public; or when, to gratify a mean,
or revengeful passion, he misrepresents or abuses
the literary productions of his opponents, or when
an author writes a review of his own work, and
imposes it on the public, as if it were the decision
of an impartial critic. — It is violated hy cnnlrover-
siulists, when they bring forward arguments in
support of any position which they are conscious
are either weak or unsound; when they appear
more anxious to display their skill and dexterity,
and to obtain a victoi-y over their adversaries, than to
vindicate the cause of truth; when sneers, and sar-
casms, and personal reproaches are substituted in
the room of substantial arguments; when they mis-
represent the sentiments of their opponents, by
stating them in terms which materially alter their
meaning; and when they palm upon them the doc-
trines and opinions which they entirely disavow^

It is violated in commercial transactions , when
deteriorated goods are varnished over with a fair
outside, and puffed otf as if they were saleable
and sound; when a merchant asks more than he
is willing to take for any commodity; when he
depreciates the commodities of his neighbor; when
he undervalues whatever he is purchasing, and
makes an overcharge for the articles of which he
is disposing; when he denies the goods he has in
his possession, when there is the prospect of an
advancing price, — and in a thousand other waj's,
best known to the nefarious trader. — It is violated
by persons in every department of life, not only
when they utter what they know to be false, but
when they profess to declare the whole truth, and
keep back part of it with an intention to deceive;
when they make use of a proposition that is lite-
rally true, in order to convey a falsehood;* when
they flatter the vanity of weak minds; when they
ascribe to their friends or to others good qualitiea
which do not belong to them, or refuse to ac-
knowledge those accomplishments of which they
are possessed ; when they endeavor to cajole
children into obedience, by promising what they
never intend to perform, and threatening what
they never intend to inflict; and when they in-
dulge in a habit of exaggeration, in the account
they give of their adventures, and of tho things -
which they have seen or heard.

Truth is violated by signs, as well as by words.

• The following fact will illustrate this and similar piece*
of faUehood; — A person, when sellin<; a watch, was asked
by the purchaser if it kept time correcily? He was told by
the owner, that neither the hour nor the minute hand had
required to be altered for more than a twclve-nioiUh. This
was literally true; hut the watch was, nevertheless, a very
hail rei>;iilalor of time. When hung in a perpendicular posi-
tion, it went too slow, and, when laid in a horizontal posi-
tion, it went too fast; hut hy alternately shifting these posi-
tions, and thus moiliiying the rates of motion, the hands did
not reipiire to be altered. Such assertions, however, are to
be considered as direct lies, when they are intended to con
vey a false or erroneous conceptioc as in the instance now
stated.

86

THE PHILOSOrHY OF RELIGION.

s, whec we point with our finger in a wrong
direction, whtiix a traveler is inquiring about tlie
road lu> sliould t ilce; whon a Britisii sliip hoists
Sjianisli CO ors; when tligs of truce are violatoil;
wlion Hjjies insinuate thL-nisclves into society as
upright men, for the purjioso of entrapping tlic
unwary; wlien false inteliigv.nce is coinmnuicated
to an enemy; when fires are liglited, or put out,
in order to deceive mariners at sea; and whan
eignais of distress are counterfeited by ships at
sea, for the purpose of decoying into their power
the sliips of an enemy.

Truth is violated in relation to God, when we
conceal from those whom we are bound to in-
struct, the grandeur and immensity of iiis v/orks,
and tiie displays of divine intelligence and skill
which are exhibited in his visible operations; when
we exhibit a diminutive view of the extent and
glory of his kingdom; when we give an inaccu-
rate and distorted representation of the laws of
nature, and of the ord.'r and the economy of tlie
universe; when we misrepresent the facts which
exist in the system of nature, and which oc-
cur in the trutii of providence; when we call in
question the history of that revelation wliich he
has confirmed by signs and miracles, and by the
accomplishment of numerous predictions; when
we misrepresent its facts, its doctrines, and its
moral requisitions; when we transform its histori-
cal narrations into a series of i)arables and allego-
ries; when we distort its literal meaning by vague
and injudicious spiritualizing comments; wlien
we fix our attention solely on its doctrines, and
neglect to investigate its moral precepts; and
when we confine our views to a few points in the
system of revelation, and neglect to contemplate
its whole range, in all its aspects and bearings.

In the above, and in ten thousand other modes,
is the law of truth violated by the degenerate in-
habitants of our world. The mischiefs and the
miseries which have followed its violation, in re-
ference to the aflfairs of nations, to the private in-
terests of societies, families, and individuals, and
to the everlasting concerns of mankind, are incal-
culable, and dreadful beyond description. . It is
one of the principal sources from which have
sprung the numerous abominations and cruelties
connected with the system of Pagan idolatry, the
delusions and the persecuting spirit of the votaries
of Mahomet, and the pretended miracles, and " the
lying wonders," of that church which is denomi-
nated " the mother of harlots and abominations
of the earth." It has been chiefly owing to the
violation of this law, that the thrones of tyrants
have been supported, that liberty has been destroy-
ed, that public safety and happiness have been en-
dangered, that empires have been overturned, that
nations have been dashed one against another, and
that war has produced among the human race so
many overwhelming desolations. By the perni-
cious influence of falsehood, the peace of families
has been invaded, their comforts blasted, their
good name dishonored, their wealth destroyed,
their hopes disappointed, and their bright pros-
pects of happiness involved in a cloud of darkness
and despair. By the sophistry of unprincipled
men, literature and science have been perverted,
and the avenues to substantial knowledge rendered
difficult and dangerous; litigations have been mul-
tiplied without number; human beings have been
agitated, perplexed, and bewildered; and the wi-
dow and the fatherless oppressed and robbed of
their dearest enjoyments. Could we search the
private records of ancient kings, princes, and le-
gislators, and trace the deceitfai plans which have
beea laid in palaces and cabinets — or could we, at

this moment, penetrate into all the intrigues, de-
ceptions, treacheries, plots, and machiaationa,
which arc going forward in the cabinets of des
pots, the mansions of princes, and the courts of
law, throughout Euroj)e, Africa, and Asia; such
a liost of falsehoods, and " lying abominations,'*
I like an army of specters from the infernal regions,
would stare us in the faci>, as would make us
siuink back with horror and amazement, and fill
us with astonishment that the patience of the God
of heaven has been so long exercised toward the
inhabitants of such a d.-pravcd and polluted world.

Let us noviT consider, for a little, some of the
effects which would inevitably follow were the
law of truth unioersally violated. In this case a
scene of horror and confusion would ensue, of
which it is dilUcult for the mind to form any dis-
tinct conception. It is obvious, in tiie first place,
that rational beings could never improve in know-
ledge, beyond the range .of the sensitive objects
that happened to be pl:iced within the sphere of
their personal observation. For, by far the greater
part of our knowledge is derived from the com-
munications of others, and from the stimulus to
intellectual exertion which such communications
produce. — Let us suppose a human being trained
up, from infancy, in a wilderness, by a bear or a
wolf, as history records to have been the case of
several individuals in the forests of France, Ger-
many, and Lithuania, — what knowledge could
such a being acquire beyond that of a brute? He
might distinguish a horse from a cow, and a man
fro:n a dog, and know tltat such objects as trees,
shrubs, grass, flowers, and water, existed around
him; but knowledge, strictly so called, and the
proper exercise of his rational faculties, he could
not acquire, so loiig as he remained detached from
other rational beings. Such would be our situa-
tion, were falsehood universal among men. We
could acquire a knowledge of nothing but what
was obvious to our senses in the objects witb
which we were surrounded. We could not know
whether the earth wore twenty miles, or twenty
thousand miles in extent, and whether oceans,
seas, rivers, and ranges of mountains, existed on
its surface, unless we had made the tour of it in
person, and, with our own eyes, surveyed the vari-
ous objects it contains. Of course, we should re-
main in absolute ignorance of the existence and the
attributes of God, of the moral relations of intelli-
gent beings to their Creator, and to one another,
and of the realities of a future state. For it is
only, or chiffly, through the medium of testimony,
combined with t!ie evidence of our senses, that we
acquire a knowledge of such truths and objects.

In the next place, all confidence among intelli-
gent beings, would be completely destroyed.—
Disappointment would invariably attend every
purpose and resolution, and every scheme we
wished to execute, if it depended in the least
degree upon the direction or assistanco of others.
We durst not taste an article of food wliich we
received from another, lest it should contain poi-
son; nor could we ever construct a house to shel-
ter us from the storm, unless our own physical
powers were adequate to the work. Were we
living in Edinburgh, we could never go to Mus-
selburgh or Dalkeith, if we were previously
ignorant of the situation of these places; or were
we residing in London, it would be impossible for
us ever to find our way to Hommerton or Hanip-
stead, unless, after a thousand attempts, chanci
should happen to direct us; and when we arrived
at eitiier of these villages, we should still be in ai
much uncertainty as ever whether it was tha
place to which we intended to direct our steps.

EFFECTS OF UNIVERSAL FALSEHOOD.

87

Conndencc being destroyed, tliere could be no
frieiidsliip, no union of hearts, no affectionute
intcrcourso, no social converse, no consolation
or comfort in the lioiir of distress, no liopjs of
deliverance in the niiJst of danger, and no pros-
pect of the least cnjoyuicnt from any being
around us. In such a case, the mind would feel
itself as in a wilderness, even when surrounded
by fellow intelligences, and wh:>rever it roamed
over the vast expanse of nature, or among tlic
mass of living beings around it, it would meet
with no atloclionate interchange of feelings and
sentiments, and no object on which it could rest
for solace and enjoyment. Every one would feci
as if ho were placed in the midst of an infinite
void, and as if he were the only being residing in
the universe. Li sucii a case we would flee from
the society of men as we would do from a lion or
a tiger when rushing on his prey; and hide our-
selves in dens, and forests, and caverns of the
earth, until death should put a period to a cheer-
less and miserable existence.

All social intercourses and relations would
cease;— -families could not possibly exist; nor any
affectionate intercourse between the sexes; for
truth, and the confidence which is founded upon
it, are implied in all the intercourses of husbands
and wives, of brothers and sisters, and of parents
and children; — and consequently, the human race,
cropping into the grave, one after another, like the
leaves of autumn, without any successors, would,
in a short time, be extirpated from the earth. In
such a state, kindness and affection would never
be exercised; trade and commerce, buying and
Boiling, social compacts and agreements would be
annihilated; science, literature, and the arts, could
not exist; and consequently, universities, col-
je-ges, churches, academies, schools, and every
other semiiiury of instruction would bo unknown.
No villages, towns, nor cities would b.e built; no
fields cultivated; no orchards, vineyards, nor gar-
dens planted; no intercourse would exist between
ditlerent regions of the globe; and nothing but
oiie dreary barren waste would be presented to t!ie
eye, throughout the whole expanse of nature. So
that were truth completely banished from the
earth, it would present a picture of that dark and
dismal region wliere "all liars have their portion!"
where all are deceivers and d.'ceived, and where
the hopeless mind roams amidst innumerable false
intelligences, for one ray of comfort, or one con-
fidential spirit in which it may confide, but roams
in vain.

In short, were truth banished not only from this
world, but from the universe at large, creation
would be transformed into a chaos; the bond
which now connects angels and archangels, cheru-
bim and seraphim, in one harmonious union,
would be forever dissolved; the inhabitant? of all
worlds would be thrown into a state of universal
anarchy; they would shun each other's society,
and remain as so many cheerless and insulated
wr itches, amidst the gloom and desolations of uni-
vejsal nature; all improvements in knowIedg'3,and
all progressive advances tov/ard moral perfection,
vvoild be forever interrupted; and happiness would
be bani.:he;] from the whole intelligent system.
Ev( ry mind would become the seat of terror and
6usi»anse, and would be haunted with frightful
specters and dreadful expectations. The govern-
ment of ihe Eternal would be subverted, the moral
order of the intelligent system overturned; all
subordination would cease, and misery would reign
uncontrolled throughout every regiuu of intellec-
tual oxisteuce. For truth is implied in tb.e prin-
ciple of love; it is essential to its existence; so

that the one cannot operate except on the basis
of tlie other; and we have already shown, that
the destruction of love would be tlie destruction
of all order, and of all happiness among intelli-
gent beings.

Such are some of the dreadful effects which
would inevitably follow, were the law under con-.
.sidcration reversed or universally violated. In
our world this law has, hitherto, been only par-
tially violated; yet what dreadful misckiel's, be-
yond calculation, and even beyond concejjtion,
has its frequent violation created! Ever since
that moment when the "father of lies" deceived
the first human pair, how many tliousands of
millions of liars have trodden in his footsteps!
and what a host of falsehoods has followed in
their train, which have destroyed the harmony
of the moral system, and robbed the world of
happiness and repose ! Yet how little are wo
afl^L-cted by the frequent violation of this law?
and how sehlom do we reflect, that every falsehood
we unadvisedly utter, is an infringement of that
law on which rest the throne of the Almighty
and the eternal happiness of the universe? For
if one lie may be palliated or vindicated, on the
same principle we might vindicate a thousand and
a million, and millions of millions, until falsehood
became universal among all ranks of beings, and
until the moral order of the intelligent creation
was completely subverted. Of how much impor-
tance is it then, that an inviolable attachment to
truth, in its minutest ramifications, be early im-
pressed upon the minds of the young, by persua-
sion, by precept, by example, by reasoning, and
by a vivid representation of its importance, and
of its inestimable benefits? and how careful should
we be to preserve them from all incentives to the
practice of lying, and especially from the company
of those " whose mouth s|)eaketh vanity, and their
right hand is a right hand of falsehood."

Were falsehood universally detested, and the
love of truth universally cherished; were a single
lie never more to be uttered by any inhabitant of
this globe, what a mighty change would be ef-
fected in the condition of mankind, and what a
glorious radiance would be diflfused over all tha
movements of the intelligent system! The whole
host of liars, perjurers, sharpers, seducers, slan-
derers, tale-bearers, quacks, thieves, swindlers,
harpies, fraudulent dealers, false friends, flatter-
ers, corrupt judges, despots, sophists, hypocrites,
and religious impostors, with the countless niulti-
tude of frauds, treacheries, impositions, falsehoods,
and distresses which have followed in their train,
would instantly disappear from among men. —
The beams of truth, penetrating through the
mists of ignorance, error, and perplexity, pro-
duced by soi)hists, skeptics, and deceivers, which
hive so longenveloped the human mind, woulddif-
fuse a luster and a cheerfulness on the face of the
moral world, like the mild radiance of the morn-
ing after a dark and tempestuous night. Confi-
dence would be restored throughout every de-
partment of social life; jealousy, suspicion, and
distrust would no longer rankle in the human
breast; and unfeigned aftection, fidelity, and
fricndsliip, would unite tlie whole brotherhood of
mankind. With what a beautiful simplicity, and
with what smoothness and harmony would the
u'orld of trade move onward in all its transac-
tions! IIow many cares and anxieties would
vanish! how many perplexities would cease! and
how many ruinous litigations would be prevented?
For the violation of truth maj' be considered aa
the chief cause of all those disputes respecting
property, which have plunged so many families

88

THE rillLOSOPIlY OF RELIGION.

tnto suspense and wretchedness. Tlie tribunals
of justice would be puvirtod lioni every species of
Bopbislry and deceit; and the jjroinises of kings,
and tlie leajrues of nations, would be held sacred
and inviolate. Science woiiUI raj.idly advance
toward perfection; for, as all its principles and
doctrines are founded upon fact;-!, wiien truth is
universally held inviolable, the facts on which it
is built will always be fairly rei)resented. Every
frtct asserted by voyagers and travelers, in rela-
tion to the physical or the moral world, and every
detail of experiments made by the chemist and
the philosopher, v/ould form a sure ground-work
for the development of truth, and the detection
of error; without the least suspicion arising in
>lie mind respecting the veracity of the persons
on whose testimony we rely. For want of this
confidence the mind has been per])lexed and dis-
tracted by the jarring statements of travelers, na-
turalists, and historians; false theories have been
framed; systems have been reared on the baseless
fabric of a vision; the foundations of science have
been shaken; its utility called in question, and
its most sublime discoveries overlooked and disre-
garded.

In fine, the clouds which now obscure many of
the sublime objects of religion, and the realities
of a future world, would be dispelled, were false-
hood unknown, and truth beheld in its native
light; and religion, purified from every mixture
of error and delusion, would appear arraj-ed in its
own heavenly radiance, and attract the love and
the admiration of men. When exhibited in its
native grandeur and simplicity, all doubts respect-
ing its divine origin would soon evanish from the
mind — the beauty and sublimity of its doctrines
would be recognized as worthy of its Author;
and all its moral requisiiions would be perceived
to be "holy, just, and good," and calculated to
promote the order, and the everlasting happiness
of the intelligent universe. Divine truth irradia-
ting every mind, and accompanied with the ema-
nations of heavenly love, would dispel the gloom
which now hangs over many sincere and pious
minds; would unite man to man, and man to
God; and the inhabitants of this world, freed
from every doubt, error, and perplexity, would
move forward in harmony and peace, to join "the
innumerable company of angels, and the general
assembly of the spirits of just men made perfect,
whose names are written in heaven."

rHE TE.N'TII COMMANDMEXT

" Thoti shall not covet thy neighbor's house, thou
shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his
man-servant, nor his maid-servant, nor his ox,
nor his ass, nor anything that is thy neighbor's.^'

Every precept of the law to which I have hith-
erto adverteH, has a reference not only to the ex-
ternal conduct of moral agents, but also to the
internal vwtives or principles from which that
conduct proceeds. This is evident from the con-
Biderations already stated, and from the whole
tenor of Divine Revelation; — and it is in unison
with reason, and with the common sense of man-
kind, that the merit or demerit of any action is
to be estimated, according to the intention of the
aotor, and the disposition from which it flows. —
That no doubt may remain on this point, the Su-
preme Legislator closes the decalogue with a com-
mand, which has. a reference solely to the desires
and dispositions of the mind: "Thou shalt not
covet." Covetousness consists in an inordinate
dssire of earthly objects and enjoyments. This

desire, when uniformly Indulged, leads tc a breach
of almost every other precept of the Divine law:
and is the source of more than one half of all the
evils which afliict the human race. It leads to a
breach of the eighth command, by exciting eithei
to fraudulent dealings, or to direct acts of theft
and robbery. — It leads to a breach of the ninth
command, by cherishing the principle of false
hooil which is implied in every fraudulent Iran.s-
action. — It leads to a violation of the sixth coni-
! maud, by engendering a spirit of revenge againsi
I those who stand in the way of its gratification,
I and by exciting the covetous man to the comnds-
' sion of murtier, in order to accomijlish his avari-
! cious desires. — It also leads to a violation of the
I seventh conmiand; for, when one "covets his
[ neighbor's wife," the next step is to endeavor to
! withdraw her afl'ection from her husband, and to
plunge a family into misery and distress. — It also
leads to a violation of the fifth precept of the law,
not only as it steels the heart against those kindly
filial atfections which children ought to exercise
toward their j)arents, but as it excites them to
i withhold from their parents, when in old age and
distress, those external comforts which are requi-
site to their happiness, and which it is the duty
of alTectionate children to i)rovide. And, when
covetousness has thus led to the breach of every
other precept of the second table of the law, it
follows, that all the precepts of the first table are
also virtually violated. For all the command-
ments of the first table are briefly summed up in
this comprehensive precept, "Thou shalt love the
Lord thy God with all thy heart:" but it is obvi-
ously iujpossible, nay, it would be a contradiction
in terms, to suppose, that supreme love to the
Creator can reside in the same breast in which an
inordinate desire of worldly enjoyments reigns un-
controlled, and in which love to man has no ex-
istence. So that covetousness may be considered
as the great barrier which separates between man
and his J\Iaker, and also, as the pollnted fountain
from whence flow all the moral abominations and
the miseries of mankind.

The more obvious and direct manifestation of
this principle is generally distinguished by the
name of Avarice, or an inordinate desire for riches.
And what a countless host of evils lias flowed
from this unhallowed passion, both in relation to
individuals, to families, to nations, and to the
world at large! In relation to the avaricious man
himself, could we trace all the eager desires,
anxieties, perplexities, and cares, which harass
his soul; the fraudulent schemes he is obliged to
contrive, in order to accomplish his object; the
miserable shifts to which he is reduced, in order
to keep up the appearance of common honesty;
the mass of contradictions, and the medley of
falsehoods, to which he is always obliged to have
recourse; the numerous disappointments to which
his eager pursuit of wealth continually expo.ses
him, and by which his soul is pierced as with so
many daggers — we should behold a wretched be-
ing, the prey of restless and contending passions,
with a mind full of falsehoods, deceitful schemes,
and groveling aff'ecfioup, like a cage, fidl of every
unclean and hateful bird, — a mind incapable of
any rational enjoyment in this life, and entirely
incapacit:ited for relishing the nobler enjoyments
of the life to. come. Such a man is not cnly
miserable himself, but becomes a moral nuisance
to the neighborhood around him; stinting his own
family of its necessary comforts; oppreshing the
widow and the fatherless; grasping with insatia-
ble fangs every house, tenement, and patch of
land williin his reach; hurrying poor unfortunate

TENDENCY OF COVETOUSNESS.

8»

debtors to jail; setting adrift the poor ami needy
from llieii- long-accustomed dwellings: and pre-
eenliiig to tlie young and tliouglitlets u picture,
which is loo frequently cojiit-d, of an iniumrtal
mind immersed in the mire of tlio most degrading
passions, and worsliiping and serving the creature
more than t!ie Creator, who is blessed forever.

In relation to large coiinnuniLits and nations,
this groveling passion has produced, on an exten-
sive scale, the most mischievous and destructive
effects. It has plundered palaces, clmrches, seats
of learning, and repositories of artj it has pol-
luted the courts of judicature, and the tribunals
of justice; it has corrupted m;;gistrates, judges,
and legislators; and has transformed many even
of the ministers of religion, into courtly syco-

fhants, and hunters after places and pensions. —
t has ground whole nations to poverty, under
the load of taxation; it has leveled s])acious cities
with the dust; turned fruitful fields into a wilder-
ness; spread misery over whole empires: drenched
the earth with human gore; and waded through
fields of blood in order to satiate its ungovernable
desires. What has led to most of the wars which
have desolated the earth, in every age, but the in-
satiable cravings of this restless and groveling
passion? It was the cursed love of gold that ex-
cited the Spaniards to ravage the terrifoiies of
Mexico and Peru, to violate every principle of
justice and humanity, to massacre, and to perpe-
trate the most horrid cruelties on their unoffend-
ing inhabitants. It is the same principle, blended
with the lust of power, which still actuates the
infatuated rulers of that unhappy nation, in tiicir
vain attempts to overthrow the indei)endence of
their former colonies. The same principle com-
menced, and still carries on, that abominable
traffic, the slave trade, — a traffic wiiich has en-
tailed misery on millious of the sons of Africa;
which has excited wars, and feuds, and massa-
cres, among her numerous tribes; which has for-
ever separated from each other brothers and sis-
ters, parents and children; which has suffocated
thousands of human beings in the cells of a float-
ing dungeon, and plunged ten thousands into a
watery grave; — a traffic which is a disgrace to tlie
human species; which has transformed civilized
men into infernal fiends; which has trampled on
every principle of justice; which has defaced the
imago of God in man, and extinguished every
spark of humanity from the minds of the fero-
cious banditti which avarice has employed for ac-
complishing her nefarious designs.*

Ainhitlon, or, an inordinate desire of power, su-
periority, and distinction, is another modirication
of this malignant principle. This passion is mani-
fested, in a greater or less degree, by men of all
ranks and cliaracters, and in every situation in
life. It is displayed in the school-room,hy the boy
who is always eager to stand foremost in his
class; in the ball-room, by the lady who is proud
of her beauty, and of her splendid attire; in the

* Tlmt this accnrseit traffic is still carried on, with una-
bated vijor, by tlie civilized powers of Kiirope, appe;;rK from
the following katement: — " 'i'he boats of a iiriti^h I'riirate,
the Maidstone, boarded, in eleven days of June, 1M4, no
less than ten French vessels, at a single spot iijmn the coast
of Africa; the measurement of which vessels was between
1400 and ICOO tons, while they were desiined for the incar-
ceration— we might say, the livin» burial — of t'OOO human
beinirs!" Tlie report to government says — " The schooner
La Lonisa, Capt. Armand, arrived at Giiadaloupe, during
the first days of April, 1824, with a car-ro of -2(10 negroes, the
remaindir of a complement of 373, which the vessel bad on
board. The vessel not being large enough to accommodate
to great a number of men, tJic OKcrplus were consisncd
ALIVE lo the ic^ices bij the Captain."

corporation-hall, by the citizen who struts with an
air of conscious dignity, and is ever and anou
aiming at ponipous harangues; on the bench, by
the haughty and overbearing judge; in the church,
by those rulers who, like Diotrephes, " Love lo
have the pre-eminence;" in the pulpit, by the
preacher whose main object is to excite the admi-
ration and applause of a surrounding audience;
in the streets, by the pompous airs of the proud
dame, the coxcomb, and the dashing squire; in
the villuf^e, by him who lias a better house, and a
longer purse, than his neighbors; in the hamlet,
by the peasant who can lift the heaviest stone, or
tight and wrestle with the greatest strength or
agility; and in the city, by the nobleman who en-
deavors to rival ail his compeers in the magnifi-
cence of his mansion, and the splendor of his equi-
page; among the learned, by their eager desire to
spread their name to the world, ana to extend
tiieir fame to succeeding generations; and among
all classes who assume airs of importance, on ac-
count of the antiquity of their families, their
wealth, their exploits of heroism, and their patri-
monial possessions.

But it is chiefly on the great tlieater of the
world that ambition has displayed its most dread-
ful energies, and its most overwhelming devasta-
tions. In order to gain possession of a throne, it
has thrown whole nations into a state of convul-
sion and alarm. The road to political power and
pre-eminence, has been prepared by the overflow
of truth and justice, by fomenting feuds and con-
tentions, by bribery, murder, and assassinations,
by sanguinary battles, by the plunder of whole
provinces, the desolation of cities and villages,
and by the sighs, the groans, and lamentations of
unnumbered widows and orphaits. In order to
raise a silly mortal to despotic power on the
throne of Spain, how many human victims have
been sacrificed at the altar of ambition! how
many families have been rent asunder, and plunged
into irremediable ruin! and how many illustrious
patriots have been immured in dungeons, and
have expired under the ax of the executioner!
At the present moment, the fertile vales of Mexi-
co, the mountains and plains of South America,
the forests of the Burmese, and the shores of
Turkey and of Greece, are everywhere covered
with the ravages of this fell destroyer, whose path
is always marked with desolation and bloodshed.
To recount all the evils which ambition has pro-
duced over this vast globe, would be to write a
history of the struggles and contests of nations,
and of the sorrows and sufferings of mankind. —
So insatiable is this ungovernable passion, that the
wliole earth appears a field too small for its malig-
nant operations. Alexander the Great, after having
conquered the greater part of the known world,
wept, because lie had not another world lo con-
quer. Were there no physical impediments to
obstruct the course of this detestable passion, it
would ravage, not only the globe on which we
dwell, but the whole of the planetary worlds; it
would range from system to system, carrying ruin
and devastation in its train, until the material uni-
verse was involved in misery and desolation; and
it would attempt to subvert even the foundations
of the throne of the Eternal.

Such are some of the dismal and destructive

eff!ctsof coL-efous«c-ss, when prosecuting the paths

of avarice and ambition: and when we consider

that it is uniformly accompanied in its progress,

with pride, envy, discontentment, and restless de-

I siri's, — it is easy to perceive, that, were it left to

I reign without control over the human mind, it

I would soon desolate every region of the earth,

90

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

and pioduco all the dcstrncUve effects wliicli, as
we have airi^ady shown, would flow from a uiii-
versai violalion of the other |nTcei)ts of God's law.

On the other hand, Coittentmeul , — liie duty im-
plied in this command, would draw along with it
an nnntimbered train of hlessings, and would re-
store tnuiquiliity and repose to our distracted
world. To be contented under the allotments of
the (irovidence of God, is one of the first and
fundamental duties of every rational creature. —
By contentment and resignation to the dJAiae dis-
posal, we recognize GoJ as the supreme Governor
of the universe; as directed by intinite wisdom,
in the tiistribution of his bounty among the cliil-
dren of men; as proceeding on the basis of eter-
nal and immutable justice, in all his providential
arrangements; and as actuated by a principle of
unbounded benevolence, which has a regard to
the ultimate happiness of his creatures. Under
the government of such a Being, we have abun-
dant reason, not only to be contented and resign-
ed, but to be glad and to rejoice. " The Lord
reigneth, let the earth be glad, let the multitude
of the isles thereof rejoice." However scanty
may be tlie portion of earthlv good measured out
to us at present, and however perplexing and
mysterious the e.xternal circumstances in which
we may now be involved, we may rest assured,
tiiat, under the government of unerring wisdom,
rectitude, and benevolence, all such dispensations
shall ultimately be found to have been, not only
consistent with justice, but conducive to our pre-
sent and everlasting interests. Were such senti-
ments and affections to per^-ade the minds of all
human beings, what a host of malignant passions
would be chased away from the hearts and from
the habitations of men? Restless cares, and
boundless and unsatisfied desires, which constitute
the source and the essence of misery, would no
longer agitate and torment the human mind. —
Voluptuousness would no longer riot at tlie table
of luxury on dainties, wrung from the sweat of
thousands; — nor avarice glut its insatiable desires
with the spoils of the widow and the orphan; —
nor abmition ride in triumph over the miseries of
a suffering world. Every one, submissive to the
allotments of his Creator, and grateful for that
portion of his bounty which he lias been pleased
to bestow, would view the wealth and enjoyments
of his neighbor with a hind and benignant eye,
and rejoice in the prosperity of all around him.
Benevolence and peace would diffuse their benign
influence over the nations, and mankind, delivered
from the fear of everything that might '-'hurt
or destroy," would march forward in harmony
and affection, to that happier world where evei'y
wish will be crowned, and every holy desire satis-
fied in God "their exceeding great reward."

Thus it appears, that, on the observance of this
law, which closes the Decalogue, and which has
a reference to a single affection of the mind — the
order and happiness of the intelligent sj'stem al-
most entirely depends. Let the floodgates of
Coveto'ianc^s be burst open, and let it flow in
every direction without control, — in a short peri-
od the world is desolated, and overwhelm.ed with
a deluge of miseries. Let the current of every
pa.ssion and desire be restrained v/ithin its legiti-
mate boundary, and let contentment take up its
residence in every heart, and tliis deluge will soon
be dried up, and a new world will appear, arrayed
in all the loveliness, and verdure, and beauty of
Eden. May Jehovah hasten it in his lime!

Thus I have endeavored, in the preceding
dtetches, to illustrate the reasonableness of those

laws which God has promulgated for regulating
the moral conduct of the intelligent creation. If
the propriety of these illustraliojis be admitted,
they may be considered as a commentary on tho
words of tlie Apostle Paul: " The law is /wlij,and
the commandmcut is holy and just and rjnod.^^ In
like manner it might have been shown, that all
the Apostolic injunctions, and other precepts re-
corded in the volume of inspiration, are ac-'or-
dant with the dictates of reason, and with the
relations of moral agents; for they are all so
many subordinate ramifications of the principles
and laws, which I have already illustrated.

General Conclusions and Remarks, founded on the
preceding illustrations.

I sliall now conclude this chapter with the
statement of a few remarks in relation to the mo-
ral law, founded on the illustrations which have
been given in the preceding pages; which maybe
considered as so many inferences deduced from
the g.Mieral subject which has now occupied oui
attention.

I. In the frst place, one obvious conclusion
from the preceding illustrations is, That the laws
of God are not tiie commands of an arbitreiry
Sovereign, but are founded on the nature of
things, and on the relations which exist in the in-
telligent system. Many divines, especially those
of the snpralapsarian school, have beeu dispo.sed
to ascribe every regulation of the Deity to the
Divine Sovereignty. I have been told that, in
one of the Latin treatises of Mr. Samuel Ruther-
ford, Professor of Divinity in St. Andrew =<, there
is a sentiment to the following purpose: "That
such is the absolute sovereigiitj^ of God, that had
it so pleased Inin, he might have. made every pre-
cept of the moral law given to man exactly th»
reverse of what we now find it." A sentiment
more directly repugnant to the scriptural charac-
ter of God, and to every view we can take of the
divine attributes, it is scarcely possible for the hu-
man mind to entertain; and it shows us the dan-
gerous consequences to which we are exposed,
when we attempt to push certain theological dog-
mas to an extreme. If it were possible to sup-
pose the Deity capable of such an act, it would
overturn all the grounds on which we are led to
contemplate him as glorious, amiable, and adora-
ble. At some future period in the revolutions of
eternity, his love, his rectitude, and his faithful-
ness, might be changed into malevolence, injus-
tice, and falsehood. If the requisitions of the
moral law depended solely on the Divine Sove-
reignly, then there is no inherent excellence in
virtue; and theft, falsehood, murder, idolatry, pro-
fanity, cruelty, wars, devastations, and the malevo-
lence of infernal demons, might become equally
amiable and excellent as truth, justice, benevo-
lence, and the songs and adorations of anj^ehs;
provided the Deity u-illed the change to take
place. But this is impossible; and it is evid' nt, I
trust, from the prececing illustrations, that, were
moral laws, directly opposite to those contiiued
in the scriptural code, to be prescribed to m( n, or
to any other class of moral agents, not only
would m.isery reign uncontrolled through tho
universe, but, in a short time, the operation of
such laws would annihilate the whole intelligent
creation.

It is evident, then, that the moral law i;i not
founded on the icill of God, but on the relations
of intrlli:rent beings, and on its own intrinsic ex-
cellence; or, in other words, on its tendency to
produce happiness throughout the intelligent sys-

GENERAL CONCLUSIONS

91

tern. This idea nearly coincides with that of
some of our modern moralists, vvlio maintain
"that vuliio is founded on utility," — if, by utilitij,
Js meant a tendency to promote happiness. But
It by no means follows, from tliia position, as some
moralists have concluded, that utility is the guide,
or the rule by which we are to be directed in our
moral conduct. This may be considered as the
rulo which directs the conduct of the Divine Be-
ing, whose eye takes in the whole system of cre-
ation, whose knowledge extends from elernity
past, to eternity to come, and who perceives, at
one glance, the remotest consequences of every
action. But it cannot be a rule for subordinate
intellig.Accs, and especially for man, wlio stands
near the lowest degree of the scale of intellectual
existence, from the limited range of view to
which he is conlined, he cannot trace the remote
consequences of any particular action, the bear-
ings it may have on unnumbered individuals, and
the relation in which it may stand to the concerns
of the eternal world. An action which, to our
limit 'd view, may appear either beneficial or in-
different, may involve a principle wliich, if traced
to its remotest consequences, would lead to the
destruction of tiie moral universe. It might ap-
pear, at first view, on the whole, beneficial to so-
ciety, that an old unfeeling miser should be gently
BufFoccited, and his treasures applied for the pur-
pose of rearing asylums for tiie aged poor, and
teminuries of instruction for the young. But the
piinciple which would sanction such an action,
if generally acted upon, would lead to universal
plunder, robbery, and bloodshed. To tell a lie to
a child, in order to induce it to take a nauseous
medicine which is essential to its recovery from
disease, may appear, in such a case, to have a be-
nevolent tendency; but we have already shown,
that were such a principle universally admitted, it
would introduce anarchy and misery through the
universe, and would ultimately annihilate the in-
telligent creation. Man, in his present state, can
be directed only by positive laws proceeding from
the Almighty, whose comprehensive mind alone
can truce all their consequences to the remotest
corners of the universe, and through all the ages
of eternity. These laws are contained in tlie
Scri])tures — a comprehensive summary of which
has been the subject of the preceding illustrations.
And we know, in point of fact, that in every
couniry where these laws are either unknown, or
not recognized, there is no fixed standard of mo-
rals: and vice, in its various ramifications, almost
universally prevails.

From what has been now stated we may infer
— that a full and unreserved obedience to the Di-
vine law is a most reasonable requliilion. Men
are too frequently disposed to view the coinmaiids
of Go.i as the dictates of an arbitrary Sovereign.
There is a secret thought that occasionally lodges
iJi the heart of every human being, that the law
of God is too extensive and rigorous in its do-
mauds, accompanied with a secret wi-^h, that t!ie
fieTJrity of its requisitions could be a little modi-
fied or relaxed. Every man is^ubject to some
"besetting sin," and he is apt to say within him-
self— " If I were allowed but a little license with
regard to one precept of the law, I would endea-
vor to do what I could to complj' with the requi-
sitions of t!ie rest." But, it would be inconsis-
tent both with the benevolence of the Deity, and
with tlie happiness of his moral creation, either
to modify or to relax any one requirement of his
law; for it is a perfect law, from which nothing
can be taken witliout impairing its excellence and
utility. Were he to do so, it would be in effjct,

to shut up the path to happiness, and to 3pen the
lloo.i-gates of misery upon the universe. Al-
though it is inj[)Ossible fur man in his present de-
graded condition, to yield a perfect obedience to
this law, yet nothing short of perfect obedience
ought to bo his aim. For in as far as we fall
short of it, in so far do we fall siiort of happi-
ness; and consequently, until that period arrives
when our obedience shall reach the summit of
perfection, our happiness must remain incom-
j)lete, and a certain portion of misery must be
expected to mingle Itself with all our enjoyments.

II. There is so intimate a connection between all
the parts of the Divine law, that the habitual viola-
tion of any one precept necessarjly includes the vio'
latiou of the greater part, if not the whole of the
other precepts. This is evident from tiie general
tenor of the preceding illustrations. It has been
shown that a breach of the first commandiaent
includes pride, falsehood, blasphemy, ingratitude,
and hatred of moral excellence; and tliat it leads
to injustice, cruelty, murder, obscenity, and the
most revolting abominations. A breach of the
fifth involves a principle which would sap the
foundations of all government and moral order,
and transform society into a rabble of lawless
banditti. The violation of the eightji is connected
with falsehood, treacherj', and covetousness, and
leads to oppression, robbery, plunder, murders, and
the devastation of empires; and the violation of
the tenth, though consisting only in the indul-
gence of an irregular desire, is the origin of al-
most every other species of moral turpitude, in
relation either to God or to man. In like manner
it might be shown, that the strict and regular ob-
servance of any one precept is necessarily con-
nected with a regard for all the other require-
ments of God's law.

III. It appeai-s, from the preceding illustrations,
that a universal violation of any one of the six
precepts of the second table of tlie law, would
lead to the entire destruction of the human race.
In the case of the sixth commandment being sup-
posed to be reversed, or universally violated, this
effect would be most rapidly produced ; but the
destruction and complete extirpation of human
beings from the earth would be as certaiidy ef-
fected, in the course of tv/o or three generations,
by the universal violation of any one of the other
five precepts. Some of the circumstances which
would necessarily produce this effect, are alluded
to, in the preceding illustration of these ])recepts.
And as the first principle of tlie moral law, love
to God, is the foundation of the precepts con-
tained in the second table, it is obvious, that the
same effect would ultimately follow from a uni-
versal violation of the first four precepts of the
Decalogue.

IV. It follows from what has hitherto been sta-
ted. That the moral law has never yet been uni-
versally violated, nor has any one of its precepts
been completely reversed in the conduct of the
inhabitants of our globe. Every individual, of
all the millions of matdvind that have existed since
the fjll of Adam, has, indeed, in one shape or an-
other, broken every one of the commandments of
God; but such breaches have not beeii constant
and uniform, and running through every action
he performed. Falsehood has always been min-
gled v.ith a portion of truth, theft with honesty»
cruelty with clemency and mercy, anarc'iy with
subordination, and licentiousness with ciiastity
and purity. It is owing to tliis jiartial obedience
to the dictates of the law of nature, impressed
upon every human heart, that the world of man-
kind has hitherto beeu preserved in existence.

92

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

Tlio partial violation, however, of the divine law,
wliioh has ciiaractcrizcd the actions of mankind,
in all ag.>s, has been tlie sourc;- of all the calami-
ties, miseries, and moral uboniinations, nndcr
which the earth has groaned from jronerution to
generation; and, in ]>roi)oi-Li()n to liie extent of
this violaiiun, will bo the extent uf wretchedness
and inidery entailed on the hiiinan race. — That a
universal violation of God's law has never yet
taken place in any region of the earth, is ftot ow-
ing so much to any want of energy, or of malig-
nity in the principle of disobedience which is
seated in the hearts of men, as to the restraining
Lntluence of tiie moral Governor of the world,
and to the pliysical impediments whicli he has
placed to i)revent the diabolical passions of men
from raging withont control. Whether it be pos-
Bible for any class of intelligent organized beings
to snbi?i«t for any length of time, under a com-
plet.». violation of the moral law, it is not for us
positively to determine; but it is evident to a de-
monstration, that in the present physical condition
of the human race, such a violation would unhinge
the wliole fabric of society, and in a short time,
exterminate the race of Adam fronr the earth.

V. The greater part of the precepts of the De-
calogue is binding upon superior intelligences,
and upon the inhabitants of all worlds, as well as
upon man. For anything we know to the con-
trary, there may be worlds in difterent regions of
the "universe, and even within the bounds of our
planetary system, where their inhabitants are placed
io circumstances similar to those in which man was
placed in his paraiiisiacal state; and, consequently,
where the precepts which compose their moral
code may be exactly the same as ours. But, it is
highly probable that, in general, the inhabitants
of the various globes, whieli float in the immen-
sity of space, ditfer as much in their moral cir-
cumstances and relations, as the globes themselves
do in their size, their physical constitution, and
their natural scenery. I have already shown
(p. 61, &c.), that there are seven precepts of our
moral law which are common to the iidiabitants
of all worlds, namely, the frst, second, third,
fourth ( see p. 89 ), tlie sixth, the ninth, and the
tenth. And, if there be no portion of the intelli-
gent system in which subordination, in a greater
or less degree, does not exist, then, the fifth pre-
cept of our code must also be a law common to
all intellig< nces. It was formerly stated (p. 80),
that the seventh precept is in all probability, a
law peculiar to the inhabitants of the earth, du-
ring the present economy of Providence ; and,
perhaps it is the only one which is not applicable
to the other inhabitants of the universe. So tliat
the moral laws given to man may be considered
as substantially the same with those which govern
all the other parts of the universal system.

VI. From the preceding illustrations, we may
infer, the excellency and the divdne origin of the
Christi m Pi.evelation. The Scriptures contain the
most impressive evidence of their heavenly origi-
nal in their own bosom. The wide range of ob-
jects they embrace, extending from the com-
mencement of our earthly system, through all the
revolutions of time, to the period of its termina-
tion; and from the countless ages of eternity past,
to the more grand and diversitied scenes of eter-
nity to come — the plan of Providence which they
unfold, and the ^i;jW3 they exhibit of the moral
principles of the Divine goveilim.ent, and of the
subordination of all events to the accomplishment
of a glorious design — tlie character and attributes
of thw Creator, which they illustrate by the most
Impre.ssive delineations, and the most lofty and

sublime descriptions — the views they exhibl*, of
the existence, the powers, the capacilieH, tlie vir«
tues, and the emjiloyments of superior orders of
intellectual beings — the demonstrations tl.ey afford
of the dignilied station, and of the high d.'Slina-
lion of man — and the sublime and awful scenei
they unfold, when the earth " shall melt like wax
at the presence of the Lord," when the throne of
judgment shall be set, and the unnumb -rei mil-
lions of the race of Adam shall be assembled bo-
fore the Judge of all — infinitely surpass every-
thing which the unassisted imaginations of men
could have devised, and everything which had
ever been attempted by the greatest sages of anti-
quity, either in prose or in rhyme; and, conse-
quently prove, to a moral demojistration, that a
Power and Intelligence, superior to the hnniau
mind, must have suggested such sublime concep-
tions, and such astonishing ideas; since there are
no prototypes of such objects to be found within
the ordinary range of the human mind.

But the subject to which we have been hitherto
adverting, when properly considered, suggests an
evidence of the truth and divinity of the Scrip-
tures, as striking, and, perhaps, more convincing
than any other. They unfold to Us the moral
laws of the universe — they present to us a sum-
mary of moral principles and precepts, v.diich is
applicable to all the tribes and generations of men,
to all the orders of angelic beings, and to all the
moral intelligences that people the amplitudes of
creation — to man, during his temporary abode on
earth, and to man, when placed in heaven, so long
as eternity endures — precepts, which, if univer-
sally observed, would banish misery from the
creation, and distribute happiness, without alloy,
among all the intellectual beings that exist
throughout the empire of God Can these ihingB
be affirmed of any other system of religion or of
morals that was ever published to the world? The
Greek and Roman moralists, after all their labor-
ed investigations, could never arrive at any cer-
tain determination with regard to the nature of
happiness, and the means of attaining it. We are
told by Varro, one of the most learned writers of
the Augustan age, that, the heathen philosophers
had embraced more than two hundred and eighty
different opinions respecting the supreme good
Some of them taught that it consisted in sensual
enjoyments, and in freedom from pain; others
considered it as placed in study and contempla-
tion, in military glory, in riches, lionors, wealth,
and fame. Some of their moral maxims, sepa-
rately considered, were rational and excellent;
but they were connected with other maxims,
which completely neutralized all their virtue, and
their tendency to produce happiness. Pride, false-
hood, injustice, impurity, revenge, and on unfeel-
ing apathy to the distresses of their fellow-crea-
tures, were considered as quite consistent witli
their system of morality ; and such malignemt
])iinciples and practices were blended with their
most virtuous actions. But we liave already
sljown, that the uniform operation of such prin-
cioles would necessarily lead to the destruction of
all happiness, and to the overthrow of uU order
throughout the intelligent creation.

Now, can it be sup])0.sed, for a moment, that a
Jen; wlio had spent forty years of his life as a
shepherd in a desert country, who lived in a rud«
age of the world, who had never studied a system
of ethics, and whose mind was altogether incapa-
ble of tracing the various relations which subsist
between intelligent beings and their Creator, could
have investigated those moral principles and laws
which form the foundation of the moral universe.

GENERAL CONCLUSIONS.

93

and the basis of the divine government in all
woilds; unless they had been comniuuicutcd im-
mediately by llim, who, at one glance, beholds
all the physical and moral relations wliich exist
throughout creation, and who can trace the bear-
ings and the eti-rnai consequences of every moral
law? Or can we suppose, that, throughout the
whole period of the Jewish economy, and during
Uie first ag's of the Christian dispensation, a mul-
titude of writers should ai)pear, many of tln'in un-
known to each otiier, all of whosn should unilonnly
recogni/e those laws in their minutest bearings and
ramifications, unless th -ir minds had been enliglit-
ened and directed by the same powerful and un-
erring Inleliigence? If tiiese laws are di^-tinguish-
ed by their extreme simplicitij, they are the more
characteristic of their divine Author, who, from
the general operation of a few simple principles
and laws in the system of nature, produces all the
variety ue perceive in the material world, and all
the harmonies, the contrasts, the beauties, and the
sublimities of the universe. If it be asked why
these laws, which are so extremely simple and
comprehensive, were not discovered nor recog-
nized by the ancient sages? It might be answer-
ed, by asking why the laws of gravitation, which
are also simple and comprehensive, were not dis-
covered, until Newton arose to investigate the
agencies of nature, and to pour a flood of light on
the systt'm of the universe? But the true reasons
are — the unassisted powers of the human mind
were inadequate to the task of surveying all the
moral relations which subsist throughout the in-
telligent system, and of tracing those moral prin-
ciples which would apply to the whole assemblage
of moral agents, so as to secure the happiness of
each individual, and of tlie system as one great
whole — that tiie laws of God were almost directly
contrary to the leading maxims of morality which
prevailed in the world — and that they struck at
the root of all those principles of pride, ambition,
revenge, and impurity, which almost universally
directed the conduct of individuals and of nations.

If, then, we find in a book wiiich professes to
be a revelation from heaven, a system of moral
laws wliicli can clearly be shown to be the basis
of the moral order of the universe, and which are
calculated to secure the eternal happiness of all
intellectual beings — it forms a strong presumptive
proof, if not an unanswerable argument, that the
contents of that book are of a celestial origin, and
were dictated by Him who gave birth to the whole
system of created beings.

VII. From this subject we may learn the ab-
surdity and pernicious tendency of Aiitiuomian-
ism. Of all the absurdities and abominations
which have assumed the name of Religion, I
know none more pernicious and atheistical in its
tendency, than the sentiment which is tenacious-
ly maintained by modern Antinomians, "That
Christians are set free from the law of God as a rule
of conduct." That in the nineteenth century of the
Christian era, amidst the rajiid progress of physical
and moral science, under the mask of a Christian
profession, and with the moral precepts and in-
junctions of the prophets of Jesus Christ, and of his
apostles, lying open before them, a set of men, call-
ing thcm-selves rational beings, should arise to
maintain, that there is such a thing as "imputed
sanctification," that the moral law is not obligatory
upon Christians, and that " whoever talks of pro-
gressive sanctification is guilty of high treason
against the majesty of heaven"* — is a moral pheno-

• See Cottle's " Strictures on the Plymouth Antinomi-

mcnon truly humbling and astonishing; and aflordu
an additional proof, to the many other evidences
which lie before us, of the folly and perversity
of the human mind, and of its readinesi to em-
brace the most wild and glaring absurditiesi If
till! leading train of sentiment which has been
prosecuted in the preceding illustrations be ad-
mitted, there appears nothing else rei|uisite in
order to show the gross absurdity and the deadly
malignity of the Antinomian system. If any
system of religion be founded on the cancelation
of every moral tie which connects man with rnan,
and man with God — if its fundamental and dis-
tinguishing piiuciplss, when carried out to their
legitimate consequences, would lead men to hate
their Creator and to hate one another — if it can b«
shown, that the operation of such principles con-
stitutes the chief ingredient of the misery which
arises from " the worm that never dii-s, and the
fire which is never quenched;" and that, if uni-
versally acted upon, they would overthrow all
order in the intelligent system, and banis'i every
species of happiness from the universe — it neces-
sarily follows, that such a system cannot be the
r.digion prescribed by the All-wise and benevolent
Creator, nor any part of that revelation which
proclaims " peace on earth and good-will among
men," and which enjoins us to " love the Lord
our God with all our hearts, and our neighbor as
ourselves."

.The Antinomian, in following out his own
principles, if no human laws or pru.lential con-
siderations were to deter him, might run to every
excess of profligacy and debauchery — might in-
dulge in impiety, falsehood, and profanity — might
commit theft, robbery, adultery, frau i, cruelty,
injustice, and even murder, without considering
himself as acting contrary to the sjjirit of his re-
ligious system. On his principles, the idea of
heaoen, or a state of perfect happiness, i-, a physi-
cal and moral impossibility; and the idea of hdl
a mere bugbear to frighten children and fools.
For, wherever the moral law is generally observ-
ed, there can be no great portion of misery expe-
rienced under the arrangements of a benevolent
Creator; and if this law be set aside, or its obser-
vance considered as a matter of indifference, the
foundation of all the happiness of saints and an-
gels is necessarily subverted. A heaven without
love pervading the breasts of all its i;ihabitanfs,
would be a contradiction in terms; but love, as
we have already seen, is the foundation of every
moral precept.

I trust the moral conduct of the deluded mor-
tals who have embraced this system is more re-
spectable than that to which their principles na-
turally lead; — but the consideration, that such
absurd and dangerous opinions have been deduced
from the Christian revelation, should act as a
powerful stimulus on the Christian world, for di-
recting their attention to a more minute and com-
prehensive illustration than has hitherto been
given, of the practical bearings of the Christian
sy.stem, and of the eternal and imauitablo o!)!iga-
tion of the law of God, which it is the great end
of the gospel of Christ to enforce and demon-
strate. For it is lamentable to reflect how many
thousands of religionists, both iu North and iji South
Urilain, even in the present day, have their minds
tinctured, in a greater or less degree, with the
poison of Antiuomianism, in conseq jeiice of the
general strain of many of the doctrinal sermons
they are accustomed to hear, and of the injudi-
cious sentiments they have imbibed from the writ-
ings of the supralapsarian divines of the sevea-
teenth century.

94

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

VIII. Faith and repentance, as required in the
Gosjjfl, aro absolutely necossary, in the present
condition oJ" man, ii ordt-r to acceptnblc obedience.
to the tiivine law. " Without fiiit!) it is iinpoi^siblc
tb plea39 God; for he that conx^tli to God must
believe that he is, and that he in the rewanier of
them that diligently seek iiiin." — Faiili, as the
term is us.^d in scripture, denofos confidence ir?the
moral character of God, founded on the bcliif we
attach to the declarations of his wor;l. It is de-
fined, by the Apostle Paul, in the eleventh chap-
ter of the epistle to the Hebrews, to be the " con-
fident expectation of things hoped for," afui " the
conviction of things which are not seen."* Faith
substantiates and realizes those objects which are
invisible to the eye of sense, and which lie beyond
tlie reach of our present comprehension. It re-
cognizes the existence and the omnipresence of an
invisible Being, by whose agency tlie visible ope-
rations of nature are conducted; and Views him
as possessed of infinite wisdom, power, benevo-
lence, f lithfulness, rectitude, and eternal duration.
It realizjs the scenes of an invisible and eternal
Wori;l — the destruction of tlie present fabric of
our globe, the resurrection of the dead, the solem-
nities of the last judgment, the new heavens, and
the new earth, the innumerable company of an-
gels, and the grandeur and felicity of tiie heavenly
world. Thi^se invisible realities it recognizes, on
the testimony of God exhibited in his word; and
without a recognition of such objects, religion
can have no existence in the mind. — In a particu-
lar manner, faith recognizes the declarations of
God in relation to tlie character and the condition
of men as violators of his law, and as exposed to
miseiy; and the exhibition which is made of the
way of reconciliation, through tlie mediation of
Jesus Christ, who is " set forth as a propitiation to
declare the righteousness of God in the remission
of sins." Tlie man in whose heart the principle
of' faith operates, convinced that he is gudty be-
fore God, and exposed to misery on account of
sin, confides in the declarations of God respecfini
"the remission of sins through the redemption
that is in Christ Jesus;" — he confides in the g-^od-
ness, mercy, faithfulness, and power of v.^ d,
which secure the accomj)lishinent of his promise,
and tile supply of all requisite strength and con-
solation to sui)port him amidst the dangers auii
afflictions of life; he confides in the wisdom and
excellenc3 of those precepts which are prescribed
as the rule of his conduct, and which are fitted to
guide him to the regions of happiness; — and in
the exercise of this confidence, he " adds to his
fuith, fortitude and resolution, knowledge, tempe-
rance, patience, godliness, brotherly kindness, and
charity;" and prosecutes with courage this course
of ob 'dience, until at length "an entrance is
abundantly administered to him into the everlast-
ing kingdom of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus
Christ." But, without a recognition of such ob-
jects, and an unshaken confidence in the declara-
tions of God respecting them, it is obvious, from
the nature of things, that we " cannot please
Go(f," nor yield to him an acceptable and " rea-
sonable service."

In like manner it might be shown, that repent-
ance is essentially requisite in order to acceptable
obedience. Sin is directly opposed to the cha-
racter of God, and is the great nuisance of the
moral universe. ' Whilo the love of it predomi-
nates in any mind, it leads to every species of
moral turpitude and depravity; and, consequent-
ly, co.mpletely unfits such a mind for yielding a

• Doddridge's Iransliition of H-^b. xi, 1.

cheerful obedience to tlic div ne law. But re-
pentance, which consists in hatred of sin, and sor-
row for having committed it, naturally (its and
prepares the mind for the practice of universal
holiness. It tends to withdraw the soul from the
practice of sin, and warns it of the danger of
turning again to folly. It is the commencement
of every course of virtuous conduct, and tlie ave-
nue which ultimately leads to solid peace and
tranquillity of mind. It is intimately connected
with humility and self-denial, and is directly op-
posed to p-ride, vanity, and self-gratulation. It
must, therefore, be indispensably requisite to pre-
pare us for conformity to the moral character of
God, for universal obodi.^ncc to his law, and for
the enjoyment of substantial and never-ending
felicity. Hence the importance which is attach-
ed to the exercise of repentance b}' our Saviour
and his Apostles. In connection with faith, it is
uniformly represented as the first duty of a sinner,
and the commencement of the Christian life. Re-
pentance was the great duty to which the fore-
runner of the Messiah called the multitudes who
flocked to his baptism, and on which the Messiah
himself expatiated during the period of his public
ministry. "Repent ye, for the kingdom of heav-
en is at hand." " Except ye repent, j-e shall all
likewise perish." And the apostles, in their in-
structions to every nation and to every class of
men, laid down the following positions as the
foundation of every moral duty. "Repentance
toward God, and faifn toward our Lord Jesus
Christ."

IX. From the preceding illustrations we may
learn, that no merit, in the sense in whicli that
tei'ni is sometimes used, can be attached 1o hu-
4nan actions in the sight of God; and that the
salvation, or ultimate happiness of .«inners, is the
effect of the grace or benevolence of Go;!. — That
the good works of men are meritorious in the sight
of God, is a notion, as unphilosophical and absurd,
as it is impious and unscriptural. They are re-
quisite, and indispensably requisite, as rjualifica-
tions, ov preparations for the enjoyment of felicity,
vv-ithout which the attainment of true happiness,
either here or hereafter, is an absolute iinpossibi-
litj^; but the actions of no created being, not even
the sublimest services and adorations of the an-
gelic hosts, can have the least merit in the e5'es
of the Creator. " Thy wickedness may hurt a
man as thou art, and thy righteousness may profit
the son of man; " but " if thou sinnest, wliat dost
thou against God; or, if thou be righteous, what
givest thou him? and what receiveth he of thine
hand?"* "Thy goodness extendeth net unto
him," and " he that sinneth against him wrongeth
his own soul." — Wliat merit can there be in the
exercise of love, and in the cultivation of benevo-
lent affections, when we consider, that tliese afFjc-
tions aro essentially requisite to our hapjnness,
and that the very exercise of them is a privilege
conferred by. God, and one of the principal ingre-
dients of bliss? What merit can be attached, in
the presence of the Most High, to the noblest ser-
vices we can perform, when we reflect, that we
derived all the corporeal and intellectual faculties
by which we perform these services, and all the
means by which they are excited and directed,
from our bountiful Creator? What merit can
there be in obedience to his law, when disobe-
dience must infallibly lead to destruction and
misery? Is it considered as meritorious in a tra-
veler, when he is properly directed, furnished
witli strength of body and mind, and provided

• Job XXXV. 6, 8. Psalm xvi 2, &c.

MORAL STATE OF THE ANTEDILUVIANS.

95

ivith every necessary for his journey, — to move
forward to the place of his wislied-for desliiiation?
Our benevolent ufFections, and the active services
to wliich they lead, may be in'-ritorious in the
eyes of our ftllow-inen, in so far as tin y are the
means of contributing to their enjoyiTKMiI; but in
tlie presence of Him who sits on the throne of the
universe, dispensing blessings to all his offspring,
we shall always have to acknowledge, tliat " we
are unprotilable servants." It is probable, that,
if the great object of religion were represented in
its native simplicity, if the nature of salvation
were clearly understood, and if less were said ou
the subject of human merit in sermons, and sys-
tems of divinity, the idea which I am now com-
bating, would seldom be entertained by any mind
possessed of the least share of Christian know-
ledge, or of common sense.

That the eternal salvation of men, is the effect
of the love and the grace of God, is also a neces-
sary consequence from what has been now stated.
For every power, capacity, and privilege we
possi-f^s, was derived from God. '' What have
we tliat we have not received?" Even our very
existence in the world of life, is an act of grace.
We exerted no power in ushering ourselves into
existence: We had no control over the events
which determined that we should be born in Bii-
tain, and not in Africa; which determined the
particular family with which we should be con-
nected; the education we should receive; the par-
ticular objects toward which our minds should
be directed, and the privileges we should enjoy.

And, when we arrive at the close of our earthly
career, when the spirit is hovering on the verge of
life, and about to take its flight from this mortal
scene, can it direct its course, by its own energies,
through the world unknown? can it wing its way
over a region it has never explored, to its kindred
spirits in the mansions of bliss? can it furnish
these mansions with the scenes and objects from
which its happiness is to be derived? can it re-
animate the body after it lias long moldered ii>
the dust? can it re-unite itself with its long-lost
partner? can it transport the resurroction-body,
to that distant world where it is destined to spend
an enilless existence? or can it create those scenes
of glory and magnificence, and those ecstatic joys
which will fill it with transport while eternity
endures? If it cannot be supposed to accom-
plish such glorious objects by its own inherent
powers, then, it must be indebted for every enter-
tainment in the future world to the unbounded
and unmerited love and mercy of God. To Him,
therefore, who sits upon the throne of the heavens,
and to the Lamb who was slain and hath redeemed us
to God by his blood, let all praise, honor, dominion,
and power, be ascribed now and forevei'. Amen.

Having now finished what I proposed in the
illustration of the principles of love to God and to
man, and of the prece[)tt of the Decalogue, — in
the following chapter, I shall take a bird's eye
view of the moral state of the world; and endea-
vor to ascertain, to what extent these principles
and lav/s have been recognized and observed by
the inhabitants of our globe.

CHAPTER IV.

A BRIEF SURVEY OF THE MORAL STATE OF THE WORLD; OR, AN EXAMINA-
TION OF THE GENERAL TRAIN OF HUMAN ACTIONS, IN REFERENCE TO
ITS CONFORMITY WITH THE PRINCIPLES AND LAWS NOW ILLUSTRATED.

The discoveries of modern astronomy have led
lis infallibly to conclude, that the universe con-
eists of an immense number of sytems and worlds
dispersed, at immeasurable distances from each
other, throughout the regions of infinite space.
When we take into consideration tJie Benevolence
of the Deity, and that the happiness of the intelli-
gent creation is the great object which his Wis-
dom and Omnipotence are employed to accom-
plish— it appears highly probable, that the inhabi-
tants of the whole, or at least of the greater part,
of those worlds whose suns we behold twinkling
from afar, are in a state of moral perfection, and
consequently, in a state of happiness. At any
rate, it is reasonable to conclude, that the excep-
tions which exist an> not numerous. Perhaps
this earth is tlie only material world wliere phy-
sic"." evil exists, where misery prevails, and where
moral order is subverted; and these dismal efTects
may have been permitted to happen, under the
government of God, in order to exhibit to other
intelligences, a specimen of the terrible and de-
stnuetive consequences of moral evil, as a warning
of the danger of infringing, in the least degree, on
tliose moral principles which form the bond of
union among the intelligent system;

Could we trace the series of events which have
occnrreo, in any one of tho;;e happy worlds, where
mora', perfection prevails, ever since the period
when t was replenished with inhabitants, and the
objects to which their physical and rational pov,'-

ers have been directed, we should, doubtless, be
highly delighted and enraptured with the moral
scenery which the history of such a world would
display. Its annals would uniformly record the
transactions of hcnemlence. We should hear no-
thing of the pomp of hostile armies, of the shouts
of victory, of the exploits of heroes, of the con-
flagration of cities, of the storming of fortifica-
tions, of the avarice of merchants and courtiers,
of the burning of heretics, or of the ambition of
princes. The train of events, presented to our
view, would be directly opposed to every object
of this description, and to everything which forms
a prominent feature in the history of mankind.
To beautify and adorn the scenery of nature
around them, to extend their views of the opera-
tions of the Almighty, to explore the depths of
his wisdom and intelligence, to admire tlie exu-
berance of his goodness, to celebrate, in unison,
the praises of the "King Eternal," the Author
of ail their enjoyments, to make i)rogressive ad-
vances in moral and intellectual attainments, to
circulate joy from heart to heart, to exert tlieit
ingenuity in the invention of instruments by
which their physical powers may be im|)roved,
and the wonders of creation more minutely ex-
plored; to widen the range of delightl'ul contem-
plation, to expand their views of llie Divine per-
fections, and to increase the sum of happiness
among all their fellow-intelligences, will doubt-
less form a part of the employments of the iuha-

.96

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

bitan(s of a world wlicre moral i)Uiily univortfallj^
prevails. Oiio. circumstance which may probably
divcrsiiV tlie annuls of such a world, aiui form so
may eras in its history, may be the occasional I
visits of ansjelic or other ni'^sseng^rs, from distant
regions of creation, to announce tlie will of the
Almi^ht/ on particular eincrgoncies, to relate the
progre.ss of new creations in other parts of the
Divine Eaipire, and to convey intelligence re-
specting the physical aspects, the moral arrange-
ments, unti the history of other worlds, and of
other orders of intellectual beings. Such visits
and occasional intercourses with celestial beings,
wonid, undoubtedly, have been more frequent in
our world, had not man rendered himself un-
qualified for such associations, by his grOiVeling
afiections, and by the moral pollutions with which
his character is now stained.

When we turn our eyes from the transactions I
of such a world, to the world in which we live,
how very dilL^rent a scene is presented to the
view! The history of all nations embraces little
more than

A RECORD OF THE d'ERATIOKS OF MALEVOLENCE.

Every occurrence has been considered as tame
and insipid, and scarcely worthy of being record-
ed, unless it has been associated with the con-
fused noise of warriors, the shouts of conquerors,
the plunder of provinces, the devastation of em-
pires, the groans of mangled victims, the cries of
widows and orphans, and with garments rolled in
blood. When such malevolent operations cease
for a little, in any part of the world, and the tu-
multuous passions which produced them, subside
into a temporary calm, the historian is presented
with a blank in the annals of the human race,
tlie short interlude of peace and of apparent tran-
quillity is passed over as unworthy of notice, until
the restless passions of avarice and ambition be
again roused into fury, and a new set of despe-
radoes arise, to carry slaughter and desolation
through the nations. For, during the short tem-
porary periods of repose from the din of war,
which the world has occasionally enjoyed, the
malignant passions, which were only smothered,
but not extinguished, prevented the operation of
the benevolent affections; and, of course, no ex-
tensive plans for the counteraction of evil, and
the improvement of mankind, worthy of being
recorded by the annalist and the historian, were
carried into effect.

In order to produce a definite impression of tlie
moral state of the world, I shall endeavor, in this
chapter, to give a rapid sketch of the prominent
disposilions of mankind, as displayed in the gene-
ral train of human actions — that we may be ena-
bled to form a rude estimate of the degree in
which the law of God has been recognized, and
of the extent to wliich its violation has been
carried, on the great theater of the world, and in
the ordinary transactions of general society.

I shall, in the first place, take a rapid view of
the moral state of the world in ancient times, and
then talie a more particular surv'^ey of the present
state of morals, among savage and civilized na-
tions— in the Christian world — and among the
rarious ranks and orders of society

SECTION L

State of morals in the axcient world.

Man was originally formed after the moral
Image of his Maker. His understanding was

quick and vigorous in its perceptions; liis wnfl
subject to the divine law, and to the dictates of
his reason; liis pass'ions serene and \iiiconlimi-
nated with evil; his allcclions dignified and pure;
his love supremely fixed upon his Creator; and
his joy unmingled with those sorrows which
have so long been the bitter portion of his i;cgen-
erate race. But the primogenitor of (Ue human
race did not long continue in the holy and digni-
fied station in which he was placed. Though ho
was placed in "a garden of delights," surrounded
with everything that was delicious to the taste
and pleasant to the eye, yet he dared to violate a
positive command of his Maker, and to stretch
forth his impious hand to pluck and to taste the
fruit of the forbidden tree — a picture and a pre-
lude to the conduct of millions of his degraded
offspring who despise the lawful enjoyments
which lie within their reach, and obstinately
rush on forbidden pleasures, which terminate in
wretchedness and sorrow. The dismal effects of
the depraved dispositions thus introduced among
the human species, soon became apparent. Cain,
the first-born son of Adam, had no sooner reached
to the j'cars of maturity, than he gave vent to his
revengeful passions, and imbrued his hands in his
brothel's blood. And ever since the perpetration
of this horrid and unnatural deed, tiie earth has
been drenched with the blood of thousands and of
millions of human beings, and the stream of cor-
ruption has flowed without intermission, and in
every direction around the globe.

Of the state of mankind in the ages before the^
flood, the sacred history furnishes us with only a
few brief and general descriptions. But those
descriptions, short and general as they are, present
to us a most dreadful and revolting picture of the
pitch of depravity and wickedness to which tli*
hnman race had arrived. Wc have the testimony
of God himself to assure us, that, within 1600
years from the creation of the world, " the wick-
edness of man had become great upon the earth —
that the earth was filled with violence " — yea,
that " every imagination of the thoughts of man's
heart was only evil continually," or, as it may
more literally be rendered from the Hebrew,
" the whole imagination, comprehending all the
purposes and desires of the mind, was only evil
from day to da.j." — "God looked upon the earth;
and behold it was corrupt; for all flesh had cor-
rupted tlieir way upon the earth." A more com-
prehensive summary of the greatness and the
extent of human wickedness it is scarcely possi-
ble to conceive. The mind is left to fill up the
outline of this horrid picture with everything
that is degrading to the human character, with
everything that is profligate and abominable in
manners, v.'ith everything that is base, false,
deceitful, licentious, and profane, and with every-
thing that is horrible and destructive in war, and
ruinous to the interests of human happiness.

The description now quoted, cont.iiiis the fol-
lowing intimations: — 1. That, previous to the
deluge, wickedness had become universal It
was not merely the majority of mankind that
had thus given unbounded scope to their licen-
tious desires, while smaller societies were to b«
found in which the worship of the true God. and
the precepts of his law were observed. For " all
Jlesh had corrupted their ways." And, at this
period the world is reckoned to have been much
more populous than it has been in any succeeding
age, and to have contained at least ten billions
of inhabitants, or many thousands of times the
amount of its present population. So that uni-
versal wickedness must have produced misery

MORALS OF THE ANTEDILUVIANS.

97

among human beings to an extcyit of which we
can lonn no - adequate conception. 2. Tlie de-
scription implies, tiiat cviry iiiv<'nlion, and every
purposLj and scheme devised botli by individuals
and by coinniunilii's, 7i>as of a maltcolvnt nature.
«' The imagination of every man's heart was only
evil continually." The dreadful spectacles of
misery and horror which the universal prevalence
of suuli principles and practices which then ex-
isted, mu.sl have produced, arc beyond the power
of luiniau iniiginalion eitlier to conceive or to
delineati\ Sosno faint idea, however, may be
formed of soni3 of these spectacles, fi-om the
descrij'tions I have already given of tlie etlects
wliicii would inevitably fo'ijow, were the princi-
ple oi' benevolence to be eradicated from the mind,
or were tiiy one of the precepts of tlie divine iaw
to be universally violated — (see ch. ii. sect, iv., and
eh. iii. throughout). 3. The effects produced by
this univei-sal depravity are forcibly expressed in
the words, " The earth was filled vi"ith violence."
From this declaration, we are necessarily leJ to
conceive a scene in which universal anarchy and
disorder, devastation and wretelicdness, every-
where prevailed — the strong and powerful forci-
bly seizing upon the wealtii and possessions of
the wealc, violating the persons of the female sex,
oppressing the poor, the wilow, and the fatherless,
overturiiiiig the established order of families and
societies, plundering cities, demolishing temples
and palaces, desolating fields, orchards, and vine-
yards, selling fire to towns and villages, and car-
rying blooJshed and devastation through every
land — a scene in which cruelty, injustice, and
outrages of every kind, obscenity, revelry, riot,
and debauchery of every description, triumphed
over every principle of decency and virtue — a
Bcene in which the earth was strewed with smok-
iiig ruins, with fragments of human habitations,
with mangled human beings in a state of wretch-
edness an I despair, and with the unburied car-
casses of the slain.

Such appears to have been the state of general
eociety at the time when Noah was commanded
to build an ark of refuge — a state of society
which couii not have long continued, "but must
inevitably, in the course of a few generations,
have tiiiiined the race of mankind, and ultimately
have extirpated the race of Adam from the earth,
even although the deluge had never been poured
upon the world. Wickedness appears to have
come to such a bight, that no interposition of
Providence could be supposed available to produce
a reformation among mankind, without destroy-
ing th -ir freedom of will; and, therefore, it was
an act of mercy, as well as of judgment, to sweep
them aw:ty at once by the waters of the flood,
after having given them warnings of their dan-
ger; in order to convince such obstinate and
abandoned characters that "there is a God that
judgeth in the earth;" and in order to prevent
the misery wiiich would otherwise have been
entailed ou succeeding generations.

Not only the Sacred, but also the Pagan writers,
when alluding to the antciiiluvians, uniformly
represent tl^em as abandoned to uncleanness, and
all kinds of wickedness. Eutychus, in his An-
nals, when speaking of tlie posterity of Cain,
says, " that they were guilty of all manner of
filthy crimes with one another, and, meeting
together in public places for that purpose, two or
three men were concerned with the same woman;
the ancient women, if possible, being more lustful
and brutish than the young. Nay, fathers lived
promiscuously with their daughters, and the
young men with their mothers, so that neither

the children could dislingui.sli their own parents,
nor the parents know tlieir own chihiren." Lu-
cian, a naiivc of Samosata, a town situated on
the. Euphrates, a spot where memorials of the
deluge were carefully preserved, gives' the follow-
ing bccount of the antediluvians: — " 'J"he present
race of mankind," says he, " are difFerent from
those who first existed; for those of the antedilu-
vian world were all destroyed. The present world
is peopled from the sons of Deucalion [or Noah];
having increased to so great a number from one
person. In respect of the former brood, they
were men of violence, and lawless in their deal-
ings. They were contentious, and did many
unrighteous things; they regarded not oaths, nor
observed the rights of hospitality, nor showed
mercy to those wlio sued for it. On this account
they were doomed to destruction: and for this
purpose there was a mighty eruption of waters
from the earth, attended with heavy showers
from above; so that the rivers swelle.l, and the
sea overflowed, until the whole earth was covered
with a flood, and all flesh drowned. Deucalion
alone was preserved to re-people the world. This
mercy was shown to him on account of his piety
and justice. His presei-vation was effected in
this manner: — He put all his family, both his sons
and their wives, into a vast ark which he had
provided, and he went into it himself. At the
same time animals of every species — boars,
horses, lions, serpents, wliatever kind lived upon
the face of the earth — followed him by pair.?; all
which he received into the ark, and experienced
no evil from them; for there prevailed a wonder-
ful harmony throughout, by tlie immediate influ-
ence of the Deity. Thus were they wafted with
him as long as the flood endured.

Such is the account which Lucian gives of the
antediluvian world, and of the preservation of the
human race, as he received it from the traditions
of the inhabitants of Hierapolis, in Syria, where
the natives pretended to have very particular
memorials of the deluge. It corroborates the
facts stated in the sacred history, and bears a
very near resemblance to the authentic account
which has been transmitted to us by Moses. — •
These facts, respecting the depravity of the ante-
diluvians, present to us a striking example, and a
demonstrative evidence of the dreadful effects to
which a general violation of the divine law neces-
sarily leads; and of the extensive confusion and
misery which are inevitably produced, when the
law of love is set aside, and when malevolence
exerts, without control, its diabolical energies.
All order in society is subverted, every species of
rational happiness is destroyed, and the existence
of intelligent beings, in such a state, becomes a
curse to themselves, and to all around them. Had
not this been the case in the primeval world, we
cannot suppose that the Deity would have exerted
his Omnipotence in shattering the crust of the
terraqueous globe, and burying its inhabitants
under the waters of the deluge.

After the deluge had subsided, and the race of
Noah had began to multiply on the earth, it was
not long before the depravity of man began to
show itself by its malignant effects; though hu-
man wickedness has never arrived to such a pitch
as in the times before the flood; for this reason,
among others, that the life of man has been re-
duced to a narrow span, which prevents him from
carrying his malevolent schemes to such an ex-
tent'as did the inhabitants of the world before the
flood, whose lives were prolonged to the period of
nearly a thousand years. Tiie lust of amlntion
soon began to exert its baleful influence over the

98

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

mind; and an inordinate desire after wealth, dis-
tinctions, ami aggrandizoinei't, paved the way lor
tlie establishment of despotism, and for encroach-
ments on tlie rights and the enjoyments of man-
kind. Amonj^ tlK' heroes and despots of antiquity,
Niitu-od, tlio fonnder of the Babylonish empire,
holds a distinguished place. He was tiie grand-
son of Ilaiii, the son of Noah, and is the first one
mentioned in Scripture who appears to have
made invasions on the territories of Ins neighbors.
HaviDg (.islinguished himself, by driving from his
country tiie beasts of prey, and by engaging in
other vrdorous exploit-s, he ai)pears to li;ive aspired
after reg.d dignity and power, and to have as-
sumed the reins of absohite government. He was
the first tliat subverted the patriarchal govern-
ment; and is supposed to have iutroduccd, among
his subjects, the Zabian idolatry, or the vv-orsliip
of the lieavenly host. "The beginning of his
kingdom," we are tol.l, " was Babylon, and Erech,
nnd Accad, and Calneh, in the land of Shinar."
lu the footsteps of tliis proud and ambitious des-
pot, has followed a train of Alexanders, Cjesars,
Hannibals, Jenghiz-Khans, Attilas, Alarics.Tamer-
lanes, Marl boroughs, Fredericks, and Bonapartes,
wlio have driven (he plowshare of devastation
through the world, erected thrones over the graves
of slaughtered nations, decorated their palaces
with trophies dyed in blood, and made the earth
to resound with the groans and shrieks of dying
victims, and the voice of mourning, lamentation,
and woe.

To delineate all the scenes of desolation and
horror which have been produced by such des-
peradoes, and the atrocious crimes and immo-
ralities which Fiave followed in their train, would
be to transcribe the whole records of ancient and
modern historj', which contain little else than a
register of human folly, avarice, ambition, and
cruelty; and of the daring villanies with which
thoy have be<»n accompanied. Even then, we
should acquire but a very limited conception of
the extent of moral evil, and of the immense
variety of shapes which it has assumed; for the
one-tenth of the crimes of mankind has never
been recorded; and it is to the public transactions
of only a small portion of the world that the page
of the historian directs our attention. I shall,
therefore, content myself with stating a few in-
sulated facts, as specimens of the train of actions
which have generally prevailed in the world.

WARLIKE DISPOSITIONS OF MANKIND.

War, as already noticed, has been the delight
and the employment of man in every age; and,
under this term may be included everythiiig that
is base and execrable in moral conduct, every-
thing that is subversive of the principle of bene-
volence, everything that is destructive of human
enjoyment, everything that rouses the passions
into diabolical fury, everything that adds to the
sum of human wretchedness, everything that is
oppressive, cruel, and unjust, and everything that
is dreadful and appalling to mankind. — As an
exemplification of the destructive effects of war,
I shall, in the first place, state a few facts in re-
lation to the Carthaginians.

Carthage was originally a small colony of Pheni-
cians, v.'lio, about f^OO years before the Christian,
era, settled on the northern coast of Africa, on a
small peninsula, adjacent to the bay of Tunis.
Having increased in wealth and power, by means
of their extensive commerce, like most otiier na-
tions, they attempted to make inroads on the ter-
ritories of neighl)oring tribes, and to plunder them
of their treasures. By degrees they extended their

power over all Jho islands in the Mediterranean.
Sicily only excepted. For the entire conquest of
tills island, about 480 years before Chri.^t, they
made vast preparations, which lasted for thiee
years. Their army consisted of .'jOOjdOO men;
tlieir fleet was composed of upward of 2')'M men
of war, and 3000 transports. With such an im-
mense armament, they made no doubt of con-
quering the whole island in a single campaign.
But they found themselves miserably deceived.
Hamilcar, t!in most experienced captain of the
age, sailed from Carthage with this formidable
army, and investi^d the city of Hymera. The be-
sieged were much straitened and dismayed by the
operations of this powerful armanieut; liut (reloiv,
the tyrant of Syracuse, flew immediately to their
relief, with 50,0U0 foot and 500U horse. A dread-
ful slaughter ensued: an hundred and fifty thou-
.sand of the Carthaginians were killed in tlie battle
and pursuit, and all the rest taken prisoners; so
that not a single person escaped of this mighty
army. Of the 2000 ships of war, and the bOOO
transports of which the fleet consisted, eight ships
only, which then happened to be out at sea, made
their escape: these immediately set sail for Car-
thage, but were all cast away, and every soul
perished, except a few who were saved in a small
boat, and at last reached Carthage with the dismal
tidings of the total loss of the fleet and army. —
Here we have presented to our view, in one short
struggle, the entire destruction of more tb.an two
hundred thousand human beings, if we take into
account the number which must necessarily have
fallen in the Sicilian army. And, if we take into
consideration the many thousands of mangled
wretches, whose existence, from that moment,
would be rendered miserable; the destruction of
property in the besieged city; tlie victinjs crushed
to death amidst the ruins of falling houses; the
cries, and shrieks, and lamentations of women
and children; the diseases and the miserj' induced
by terror and alarm, and the loss of friends; the
terrific and appalling spectacle of 5000 ships all on
a blaze, of ten thousands of burning and drown-
ing wretches, supplicating in vain for mercy, and
the oaths, execrations, and furious yells which
would be mingled with this work of destruction,
we shall find it difficult to form an adequate con-
ception of the miseries and horrors of such a
scene. And what was the cause of this dreadful
slaughterand devastation? That proud and opulent
city, whose inhabitants were rioting in every
species of luxury, might gratify its ambition, by
tyrannizing over neighboring tribes, and by plun-
dering them of that wealth of which it did not
stand in need. And this is but one instance out
of ten hundred thousand of the miseries of war, —
one faint shade in the picture of human woe!

One would have thought, that, after such a
signal loss and discomfiture, the Carthaginians
would have contented themselves with their own
territoiy, and refrained from aggressive war.
This, however, was not the case. Where bene-
volence is banished from the mind, and revenge
occupies its place in the affections, it will hurry
unprincipled men to the most wild and atrocious
actions, although they should terminate in de-
struction to themselves and to all around them
It was not long after this period, when p'-epara-
tions were again made for the invasion of Sicily.
Hannibal, the grandson of Hamilcar, landed on
the coast of Sicily, and laid siege tD Selinus.
The besieged made a vigorous defense; but at last
the city was taken by storm, and the inhabitants
were treated with the utmost cruelty. All were
massacred by the savage conquerors, except the

SCENES OF HUMAN DESTRUCTION.

99

wonieti, who fled to the temples; — and tlieso
escai»ed, not througli the merciful dispositions of
tlie Cartlitigiiiiuns, but becuise they were afraid,
that, if drivtu to despair, tliey would sot fire to
t!ie 1einp!:-H, and by that means consume the trea-
suio they exp^•cted to find in those places. Six-
teen tiioiisand were inacsacred; tlio women and
children, about 5000 in number, were carrii'd
Rwa^ captive; the temples were plundered of all
their treasures, and the city razed to the ground.
Hymera was next besieged by Hannibal, and
lazcd to its foundations, lie forced three thou-
sand prisoners to undergo all kinds of igno:niny
and punishrnen's, and at last murdered them, on
the Very spot where his grandfather had been
killed by Gelon's cavalry, to appease and satisfy
his i^'Difiti, by the blood of these unhappy victims.
Such is tiie humanity and the justice of those men,
whom we are accustomed to distinguish by tlie
names of Patriots and Heroes! — Elated with tiiese
partial victories, the Carthaginians meditated the
reduction of the whole of Sicily. They marched
against the city of Agrigentum, and battered its
Walls with dreadful fury. The besieged defended
themselves with incredible resolution. In a sally,
tiiey burned all the battering machines raised
against their city, and repulsed the enemy with
immense slaughter. Again the Carthaginians ral-
lied their forces, beat down the walls of the city,
plundered it of an immense booty, and with tlnnr
usual cruelty, put all its inhabitants to the sword,
not excepting even those who had fled to tlie
temples. The Carthaginians were soon after
forced to retire from Sicily. Again they renewed
tlieir expecilions; again they were repulsed; and
again they plunged into the horrors of war; while
tliousands and ten thousands were slaughtered
at every onset; men, women, and children mas-
sacred in cold blood; and the pestilence produced
by the unburied carcasses of the slain, proved
more fatal to myriads, than even the sword of
the warrior. \^

In this manner did these infituated mortals
tarrj'' on a series of sanguinary contests for se-
reral centuries, with the Sicilians, Greeks, and
other nations; until, at length, they dared to en-
counter the power, and the form.idable forces of
the Romans, and commenced those dreadful and
long-continued conflicts, distinguished in His-
tory by the name of Tlie Funic Wars. The first
Punic wiu- lasted twenty-four years; the second,
geventeen years; and the third, four years and
some months. In this last contest, the plowshare
of destruction was literally driven througli their
devoted city, by the Romans. It was delivered
up to be plundered by their soldiers; its gold,
silver, statues, and other treasures amounting to
i,470,000 pounds weight of silver, were carried
oti' to Rome; its towers, ramparts, walls, and all
the works which the Carthaginians had raised in
the course of many ages, were leveled to the
ground. Fire was set to the edifices of this proud
metropolis, which consumed them all, not a single
h mse escaping the fury of the flames. And
tbough the fire began in all quarters at the same
ti lie, and burned with incredible violence, it con-
ti lued for seventeen days before all the buildings
w sre consumed. — Thus perished Carthage — a city
which contained 700,090 inhabitants, and which
had waged so many ferocious wars with neigh-
boring nations — a terrible example of the destruc-
tive effects produced by malevolent passions, and
of the retributive justice of the Governor of the
world. Tii'^ destruction of human life in the
numerous wars in which it was engaged, is be-
yond all soecilic calculation. During the space

Vol. I.— 23

of sixteen years, Hannibal, the Carthagiijian ge-
neral, plundered no 'ass than four hundred towns,
and destroyed JOO,UUO of his enemies; and wo
may safely reckon, that nearly an equal number
of his own men n)ust have been cut off by the
opposing armies; so that several millions of hu-
man victims must have been sacriliced in these
bloody and cruid wars.

I'he following is a summary statement of the
number of human beings that were slain in seve-
ral of the battles recorded in history. — In the year
101 before Christ, in an engagement between
Marius, the Roman Consul, and the Ambrones
and the Teutones, in I'ransalpine Gaul, there
were slain of these barbarians, beside what fell in
the Roman army, 200,000, some historians say,
290,000. And it is related, that the inhabitants
of the neighboring country made fences for vine-
yards of tlieir bones. In the following year, the
Romans, under the command of the same general,
slaughtered 140,000 of the Cinibri, and took 60,-
000 prisoners. In the year 105, B. C, the Ro-
mans, in a single engagement with the Cimbri
and the Teutones, lost ujtward of 80,000 men. In
the battle of Cannne, the Romans were surrounded
by the forces of Hannibal, and cut to pieces.
After an engagement of only three hours, the car-
nage became so dreadful, that even the Carthagi-
nian general cried out, to spare the conquered.
Above 40,000 Romans lay dead on the field, and
six thousand of the Cartliagiiiian army WU-iJ
a dreadful display of the rage and fury o^' diaboli-
cal passions must have been exhibited on this oc-
casion! and what a horrible scene must havo beeu
presented on the field of battle, when we consider,
that, in the mode of ancient warfare, the slaia
were literally mangled and cut to piecesi — Iii the
battle of Issus, between Alexander and Darius,
were slain 110,000; in the battle of Arbela, two
years afterward, between the same two despots,
300,000; in the battle between Pyrrhus and the
Romans, 25,000; in the battle between Scipio and
Asdrubal, 40,000; in the battle between Suetonius
and Boadicea, 80,000. In the siege of Jerusalem
by Vespasian, according to the account of Josc-
phus, there were destroyed, in the most terrible
manner, 1,100,000; and there were slaughtered ia
Jerusalem, in 170, B. C, by Antiochus, 40,000.
At Cyrene, there were slain of Romans and
Greeks, by the Jews, 220,000; in Egypt and Cy-
prus, in the reign of Trajan, 240,00'j; and in the
reign of Adrian, 580,000 Jews. After Julius Cae-
sar had carried his arms into the territories of
Usipetcs in Germany, he defeated them with such
slaughter, that 400,000 are said to have perished
in one battle. At the defeat of Attila, King of
the Huns, at Chalons, there perished about 300,-
000. In the year 631, there were slain by tha
Saracens in Syria, 60,000; in the invasion of Mi-
lan by the Goths, no less than 300,000; and ia
A. D. 734, by the Saracens in Spain, 370,000. In
the battle of Fontenay, were slaughtered 100,000;
in »he battle of Yermouk, 150,000; and in tha
bat* 1 between Charles Martel and the Mahomet-
ans, 150,000. In the battle of Muret, in A. D.
1213, between the Catholics and the Albigenses,
were slain 32,000; in the battle of Cressy, in 1346,
50,000; in the battle of Ilalidon-hiil, in 1333,
20,000; in the battle of Agincourt, in 1415, 20,000;
in the battle of Towton, in 1461, 37,0U0; in the
battle of Lepanto, in 1571, 25,000; at the siftga
of Vienna, in 1GS3, 70,000; and iu a battle in
Persia, in 1734, 60,000.*

• The above statements are collected from facts stated ia
Rolliu's Aacieut llisto.*^, Millol'a Elements, Mavort Uai*

100

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

Tlio most numerous army of wliicli we have
any account ia tho annuls of history, was that
of Xerxes. According to thp stati-ment of RoUin,
wliich is founded on the statements of Herodotus,
Isocrates, and Pkitarch, tliis army consisted of
l,7t)0,0t)l) foot, 80,000 horse, and -20,000 men for
conducting the carriages and camels. On passing
the Hellespont, an addition was made to it from
other nations, of 300,000, which made his land
forces amount to 2,100,000. His fleet consisted
of 1207 A'essels, each carrying 230 men; in all
277,610 men, which was augmented by the Euro-
pean nations, with 1200 vessels carrying 240,000
men. Beside this fleet, the small galleys, transport
ships, &c., amounted to 3000, containing about
240,000 men. Including servants, eunuchs, wo-
men, sutlers, and others, who usually follow an
army,- it is reckoned, that the whole number of
souls that followed Xerxes into Greece, amounted
to 5,28J,220; which is more than the whole of the
male population of Great Britain and Ireland,
above twenty years of age, and nearly triple tlie
whole population of Scotland. After remaining
some time in Greece, nearly the wliole of this im-
mense armj', along with the fleet, was routed and
destroyed. Mardonius, one of his ablest com-
manders, with an army of 300,000, was finally
defeated and slain at the battle of Plataea, and only
three thousand of this vast army, with diiHcultj'
escaped destruction.

The destruction of human life in the wars
which accompanied and followed the incursions
of the barbarians, who overthrew the Roman em-
pire, is beyond all calculation or conception. It
forms au era in liistory most degrading to the
human species. In the war which was waged in
Africa, in the days of Justinian, Procopius re-
marks, "It is no exaggeration to say, that five
millions perished by the sword, and famine, and
pestilence." The same author states that, during
the twenty years' war which Justinian carried on
with the Gothic conquerors of Italy, the loss of
the Goths amounted to above 15 millions; nor
will this appear incredible, when we find, that in
one campaign, 50,000 laborers died of hunger.
About the beginning of the 13th century arose
that cruel and bloody tyrant Jenghiz-Klian. With
immense armies, some of them amounting to
more than a million in number, he overran and
subdued the kingdom of Hya in China, Tangut,
Kitay, Turkistan, Karazum, Great Bucharia, Per-
sia, and part of India, committing the most dread-
ful cruelties and devastations. It is computed,
that, during the last 22 years of his reign, no
fewer than 14,470,000 persons were butchered by
this scourge of the human race. He appeared
like an infernal fiend, breathing destruction to
the nations of the East, and the principle which
he adopted, after conquest, was utter extertrdna-
tion.

Nearly about the same period when this mon-
ster was ravaging and slaughtering the eastern
world, those mad expeditions, distinguished by
the name of the Crusades, were going forward in
the west. Six millions of infatuated wretches,
raging with hatred, and tliirsting for blood, as-
sumed the image of the cross, and marched in
wild disorder to the confines of the Holy land, in
order to recover the city of Jerusalem from the
hands of the infidels. In these holy wars, as they
were impiously termed, more than 850,000 Euro-
peans were sacrificed before they obtained posses-

reisal History, the historical Articles in the Encyclopedia
Bnlannica, firom a list of battles contained in the "Pictures
of War," &c.

sion of Nice, Antioch, and Edessa. At the siege
of Acre, 300,000 were slain; and at the taking of
Jerusalem, in 1099, about seventy thousand. For
196 years, these wild expeditions continued in
vogue, and were urged lorward by proclamations
issued from the throne, and by fanatical sermons
tiiundered iVom the pulpit, until several millions
of deluded mortals perished from the earth; for
by far the greater part of those who engaged in
the crusades, were either slain or taken prisoners i
About this jjcriod, and several centuries before it, I
the whole earth exhibited little else than one great :
field of battle, in which nations v;ere dashing
against each other, conquerors ravaging king-
doms, tyrants exercising the most horrid cruelties;
superstition and revenge immolating their mil-
lions of victims ; and tumults, insurrections,
slaughter, and universal alarm, banishing peace
and tranquillity from the world, and subverting
the moral order of society. "In Europe, Ger-
many and Italy were distracted by incessant con-
tests between the pope and the emperors; the in-
terior of every European kingdom was torn in
pieces by the contending ambition of the power-
ful barons; in the Mahomedan empire, the ca-
liphs, sultans, emirs, &c. waged continual war;
new sovereignties were daily arising, and daily de-
stroyed; and amidst this universal slaughter and
devastation, the whole earth seemed in danger of
being laid waste, and the human race to suffer a
total annihilation."*

Such is the bird's eye view of the destruction
of the human species, which war has produced in
different periods. The jistances I have brought
forward present only a few detached circum-
stances in the annals of warfare, and relate only
to a few limited periods in the history of man:
and yet in the four instances above stated, we are
pr-esented with a scene of horror, which includes
the destruction of nearly 50 millions of Imman
beings. What a vast and horrific picture, then,
would be presented to the eye, could we take in
at one view all the scenes of slaughter, which have
been realized in every period, in every nation, and
among every tribe! If we talie into consideration
not only the number of those who have fallen in
the field of battle, but of those who have perished
through the natural consequences of war, by the
famine and the pestilence, which war has pro-
duced; by disease, fatigue, terror, and melancholy;
and by the oppression, injustice, and cruelty of
savage conquerors, — it will not, perhaps, be over-
rating the destruction of human life, if we affirm,
that one-tenth of the human race has been destroy-
ed by the ravages of war. And if this estimate
be admitted, it will follow, that more than four-
teen thousand millions of human beings have been
slaughtered in war, since the begmning of the |
world — which is about eigUeen times the number
of inhabitants which, at the present, exist on the I
globe; or, in other words, it is equivalent to the
destruction of the inhabitants of eighteen worlds
of the same population as ours •{• That this con-
clusion is rather withiii than beyond the bounds
of truth, will appear, from what has been stated
above respecting the destruction of the Guths, in
the time of Justinian In the course of 20 years,
15 millions of persons perished in the wars. Now,
if the population of the countries of Europe, in
whioh these wars took place, did not exceed 60
millions, the proportion of the slaughtered to the

* Mayor's Universal History, Robertson's Charles V, &c.

t This calcnlation proceeds on the ground, that 145 thou-
sand millions of men have existed since the IVlosaic crea-
tion. See Christian Philosopher, Art. Ueosraphu.

ATROCITIES CONNECTED WITH WAR.

101

whole population was asone to /our, ami, if 20 years
be reckoned us only lialf the period of a genera-
tion, tlic proportion was as one to two; in other
words, at tiio rate of one half of a whole genera-
tion in tlie course of 40 years. What a horrible
and tremendous consideration! — to reflect, that
14,U00,UJ0,Ud0 of beings, ojidowed with intel-
lectual facuiti's, and furnished with bodies curi-
oualy organized by divine wisdom — that the in-
habitants of eighteen worlds sliould have been
massacred, mangled, and cut to pieces, by those
who were partaiier.s of the same common nature,
as if they liad been created merely for the work
of destruction! Language' is destitute of words
sutiiciently strong to express the emotions of the
mind, when it seriously contemplates the horrible
scene. And how melancholy is it to reflect, that
in the present age, which boasts of its improve-
ments in science, in civilization, and in religion,
neither reason, nor benevolence, nor humanity,
nor Christianity, has yet availed to arrest the pro-
gress of destroying arsnius, and to set a mark of
ignominy on " the people who delight in war! "

ATROCITIES CO.\.\ECTED WITH WAR.

However numerous may have been the victims
that have been sacrificed in war, it is not so much
the mere extinction of human life that renders
the scene of warfare so horrible, as the cruelties
with which it has always been accompanied, and
the infernal passions which it has erigendered and
carried into operation. It extirpates every prin-
ciple of compassion, humanity, and justice; it
blunts the feelings, and hardens the heart; it
invents instruments of torture, and perpetrates,
without a blush, cruelties revolting to every prin-
ciple of virtue and benevolence.

When Jerusalem was taken by Antiochus Epi-
phanes, in the year 1G>^, B. C, ho gave orders to
one division of his army to cut in pieces all who
were found in the temple and synagogues; while
anotlier party, going through the streets of the
city, massacred all that came in their way. He
next ordered the city to be plundered and set on
fire; pulled down all their stately buildings, caus-
ed the walls to be demolished, and carried away
captive ten thousand of those who had escaped
the slaughter. He set up the statue of Jupiter
Olympus on the altar of burnt-ofTerings, and
all who refused to come and worship this idol
were either mas?acred, or put to some cruel tor-
tures, untQ they either complied or expired under
the hands of the executioners. In the war which
the Carthaginians waged with the Mercenaries,
Hamilcar, tiie Carthaginian general, threw all the
prisoners that fell into his hands to be devoured
by wild beasts. Asdrubal, another Carthaginian
general, when engaged in war against the Ro-
mans, in revenge for a defeat he had sustained,
brought all the Roman prisoners he had taken
during two years, upon the walls, in the sight of
the whole Roman army. There he put tliem to
the most exquisite tortures, putting out their
eyes, cutting off their noses, ears, and fingers,
legs and arms, tearing their skin to pieces with
iron rakes or harrows; and then threw them
headlong from the top of the battlements.* He
was of a temper remarkably inhuman, and it is
said that he even took pleasure in seeing some of
these unhappy men flayed alive. In the year
1201, when Jenghiz-Khan had reduced the rebels
who had seized upon his paternal possessions, as a
Bpecimen of his lenity, he caused seventy of their

* Rollin'i Ancieot History, Vol. I.

chiefs to be thrown into as many cauldrons of
boiling water. Tiie plan on which this tyrant
conducted his expeditions, as already stated, was
that of total extermination. For some time ho
utterly extirpated the inhabitants of tjiose places
which ho conquered, designing to people them
anew with his Moguls; and, in consequence of
this resolution, he would employ his army in
beheading 100,000 prisoners at once. — Tamerlane,
one of his successors, who followed in his foot-
steps, is said to have been more humane than this
cruel despot. Historians inform us that " his
sportive cruelty seldom went farther than the
pounding of three or four thousand people in
large mortars, or building them among bricks
and mortar into a wall." If such be the " tender
mercies of the wicked," how dreadful beyond
description must their cruelties be!

We are accustomed to hear Alexander the
Great eulogized as a virtuous and magnanimous
hero; and even the celebrated Montesquieu, in
his "Spirit of Laws," has written a panegyric
on his character. Yet we find him guilty of the
most abominable vices, and perpetrating the most
atrocious crimes. At the instigation of the
strumpet Thais, during a drunken banquet, he
set on fire the beautiful city of Persepolis, and
consumed it to ashes; — Clitus, one of his cap-
tains, and brother of Helenice, who had nursed
Alexander, and saved his life at the battle of the
Granicus, at the imminent danger of his own.
Yet this man, to whom he was so highly indebted,
he thrust tlirough with a javelin, at an entertain-
ment to which he had invited him; on account
of his uttering some strong expressions, which
were intended to moderate Alexander's vanity.
His treatment of the Branchidae furnishes an
example of the most brutal and frantic cruelty
which history records. The.se people received
Alexander, while pursuing his conquests, with
the highest demonstrations of joy, and surren-
dered to him both themselves and their city. The
next day, he commanded his phalanx to surround
the city, and, a signal being given, they were or-
dered to plunder it, and to put every one of its
inhabitants to the sword; which inhuman order
was executed with the same barbarity with which
it had been given. All the citizens, at the very
time they were going to pay homage to Alexan-
der, were murdered in the streets and in their
houses; no manner of regard being had to their
cries and tears, nor the least distinction made of
ago or sex. They even pulled up the very foun-
dations of the walls, in order that not the least
traces of that city might remain. And why
were these ill-fated citizens punished in so sum-
mary and inhuman a manner? Merely because
their forefathers, upward of one hundred and
fifty years before, had delivered up to Xerxes the
treasure of the temple of Didymaon, with which
they had been intrusted! * — When he entered the
city of Tyre, after a siege of seven months, he
gave ordprs to kill all the inhabitants, except those
who had tied to the temples, and set fire to every
part of the city. Eight thousand men were bar-
barously slaughtered; and two thousand more
remaining, after the soldiers had been glutted
with slaughter, he fixed two thousand crossei
along the seashore, + and caused them all to be
crucified.

War has given rise to the most shocking and
unnatural crimes, the idea of which might never
otherwise have entered into the human mind.
Lathyrus, after an engagement with Alexander

* Rollin's Ancient Hist.

tOniL

102

THE'PHILOdOniY OF RELIGION.

king of the Jews, on the banks of tlip river Jor-
dan— lite s'.iine evening lie gained the battle, in
going to take np liis quarters in tlie neighboring
villages, fonnd them full of women and child-
ren, ana caused them all to be put to the sword,
and their bodies to be cut to pieces, and put into
cauldrons in order to their being dressed, as if he
intoiuled to make his army sup upon them. His
design was to have it believed that his troops ate
liunian flesh, to spread tlie greater terror through-
out the surrounding fountry-*

Even under the pretext of religion, and of the
Christian religion too, the most shocking barbari-
ties have beiu committed. Undt-r the pr-tense
of vindicating the cause of Him who, in the
midst of cruel suiTerings from men, prayed,
" Father, forgive them, for they know not wliat
they do," the crusaders hurried forward toward
Jerusalem, wading through seas of blood. When
their banners were hoisted on a principal emi-
nence of Antioch, they commenced their butche-
ry of the sleeping inhabitants. The dignity of
age, the helplessness of youth, and the beauty of
the weaker sex, were disregarded by these sancti-
monious savages. Houses were no sanctuaries;
and the sight of a mosque added new virulence
to cruelty. The number of Turks massacred, on
tiiis night of frantic fury, was at least ten thou-
. sand. After every species of habitation, from
the marble palace to the meanest hovel, had been
converted into a scene of slaughter; when the
narrow streets and the spacious squares were all
alike disfigured with human gore, and crowded
with mangled carcasses, then the assassins turned
robbers, and became as mercenary as they had
been merciless When Jerusalem was taken by
these furious fanatics, they snfTered none to
escape the slaughter: " Yet, after they had glut-
ted themselves with blood and carnage, they
inunediately became devout pilgrims, and in
religious transports, ran barefooted to visit the
holy sepulcher." f In what light must that
religion appear to Eastern Infidels which is sup-
posed to lead to the perpetration of such enormi-
ties? And how woefully are the mild precepts
and doctrines of Christianity misrepresented,
when desperadoes of this description dare as-
sume the Christian namel

Even the finer feelings of the female sex have
been blunted, and, in many instances, qirtte ex-
tirpated by the mad schemes of ambition, and
the practices connected with war. Toward the
beginning of the thirteenth century, a Queen of
Hungary took the sign of the cross, and embark-
ed in the mad expeditions of the crusaders, as did
likewise fifty thousand children and a crowd of
priests; because, according to the Scripture, " God
has made children the instruments of his glory.";
Cleopatra, daughter of Ptolemy Philometer, in
order to gratify her restless ambition of reigning
alone and uncontrolled in her dominions, killed
lier son Seleucus, with her own hand, by plung-
ing a dagger into his breast. She had been the
wife of three kings of Syria, and the mother of
four, and had occasioned the death of two of her
husbands. She prepared a poisoned draught to
destroy Grypus, another of her sons; but her in-
tention having been suspected, she was compelled
to swallow the deadly potion she had prepared,
which took immediate effect, and delivered the
world from this female monster. The Carthagi-
Bians were in the practice of offering human

• Pollin's Ancient History, Vol. I.
tMillot's Elements of Gen. Hist.
J Ibid

sacrifices to their god Saturn, when they wera
defeated in war, in order to propitiate the wrath
of this deity. At first, children wore inhumanly
burned, eitlicr in a fiery furnace, like those in the
valley of Hinnom, so frequently mentioned in
Scripture, or in a flaming statue of Saturn. — Tin
cries of these unhappy victims were drowned by
the uninterrupted noise of drums and trumpets.
Mothers made it a merit, and a part of their reli-
gion, to view the barbarous spectacle with dry
eyes, and without so much as a groan; and if a
tear or sigh stole from tliem, the sacriiice was
considered as less acceptable to the deity. Thi3
savage disposition was carried to such excess, that
even mothers would endeavor, with embraces and
kisses, to hush the cries of their children, lost
they should anger the god.* When Carthago
was taken by tlie Romans, the wife of Asdrubal,
the Carthaginian general, who had submitted to
the Romans, mounted to the upper part of one
of the temples which had been set on fire, and,
placing herself, with her two chi^iren, in sight of
her husband, uttered the most bitter imprecations
against him. " Base coward (said she), the
mean things thou has done to save thy life shall
not avail thee; thou shalt die this instant, at least
in thy two children." Having thus spoken, she
stabbed both the infants with a dagger, and while
they were yet struggling for life, threw them
both from the top of the temple, and then leaped
down after them into the flameslf

Such are only a few insulated pictures of the
atrocities of war, and of the unnatural and infer-
nal passions which uniformly follow in its train,
which may be considered as specimens of many
thousands of similar instances, which the records
of history furnish of the malignity and depravity
of mankind. I have selected my examples chief-
ly Trom the history of ancient warfare : but wero
we to search the annals of viodern warfare, and
confine our attention solely to the battles of Alex-
andria, of the Pyramids, of Borodino, of Smo-
lensko, of Austerlitz, of Leipsic, of Jena, of
Eylau, of Waterloo, and other warlike events
wL-ich have happened within the last thirty j^ears,
we should meet with atrocities and scenes of
slaughter, no less horrible than those which I
have now related. I shall content myself with
stating only two or three instances.

After the taking of Alexandria by Bonaparte,
"We were under the necessity," says the relater,
" of putting the whole of them to death at the
breach. But the slaughter did not cease w^th the
resistance. The Turks and inhabitants fled to
their mosques, seeking protection from God and
their prophet ; and then, men and icoinen, old and
young, and infants at the breast, were slaughtered..
This" butchery continued for four hours; after
which the remaining part of the inhabitants were
much astonished at not having their throats cut"
Be it remembered that all this bloodshed was pre-
meditated. "We might have spared the men whom
we lost," says Genera! Boj-er, " by only summon-
ing the town ; but it was necessary to begin by
confounding our enemy."* After the battle of
the Pyramids, it is remarked by an eye-witness,
that "the whole way through the desert, was
tracked with the bones and bodies of men and ani-
mals who had perished in these drtadful waste*
In order to wann themselves at night, they gather-
ed together the dry bones and bodies of the dea(^
which the vultures had spared, and it teas by afirt

• RoUin's Ancient History.
+ Ency. Brit., Art. Carthagl.
t Miot'i Memoir*.

ATROCITIES CONNECTED WITH WAR.

103

composed of this fuel that Bonaparte lay dotcn to
sleep ill tlu- desert."* A more revolting; and iiit'iT-
nal scene it is scarcely possible for the iniajriiiatioii
to depict.

Miot gives the following description in rela-
tion to u scene at Jatfu : — "Tlie soldier abandons
himself to all the fury wiiicli an assault authori-
res. He strikes, he slays, nothing can impede
him All the horrors which accompany the capture
of a town by storm, are repeated in every street,
in every house. You hear the cries of violated
females calling in vain for help to those relatives
whom thi'V are butchering. No asylum is re-
spected. The blood streams on every side ; at
every step you meet with imman beings groaning
and expiring," &-c. — Sir Robert Wilson, when
describing the campaigns in Poland, relates, that
"the ground between the woods and the Russian
batteries, about a quarter of a mile, was a sheet of
naked huniaii bodies, which friends and foes had
during the night mutually slrippi'd, not leaving
the worst rag upon them, although numbers of
these bodies still reianied consciousness of their
situation. It was a sight which the eye loathed,
but from which it could not remove." In La-
baume's " Narrative of the campaign in Russia,"
we are presented with the most liorrible details of
palaces, churches, and streets, enveloped in flames,
— houses tumbling into ruins, — hundreds of black-
ened carcasses of the wretched inhabitants, whom
the fire had consumed, blended with the fragments;
hospitals containing 20,000 wounded Russians on
fire, and consuming the miserable victims, — num-
bers of half-burned wretches crawling among the
smoking ruins, — females violated and massacred,
parents and children half naked, shivering wiih
cold, flying in consternation with the wrecks of
their half-consumed furniture, — horses falling in
thousands, and writhing in the agonies of death,
■ — the fragments of carriages, muskets, helmets,
breast-plates, portmanteaus, and garments strewed
in every direction, — roads covered for miles with
thousands of the dying and the dead heaped one
upon another, and swimming in blood, — and these
dreadful scenes rendered still more horrific by the
shrieks of young females, of mothers and children,
and the piercing cries of the wounded and the dy-
ing, invoking death to put an end to their agonies.

But I will not dwell longer on such revolting
details. It is probable, that the feelings of some of
my readers have been harrowed up by the descrip-
tions already given, and that they have turned away
their eyes in disgust from such spectacles of de-
pravity and horror. Every mind susceptible of
virtuous emotions, and of the common feelings of
humanity, must, indeed, feel pained and even ago-
nized, when it reflects on the depravity of man-
kind, and on the atrocious crimes they are capable
of committing, and have actually perpetrated. A
serious retrospect of the moral state of the world
in past ages, is calculated to excite emotions, simi-
lar to those which overpowered the mourning
prophet, when ho exclaimed, "O that my head
were waters, and nunc eyes a fountain of tears,
that I might weep day and night, for the slain of
the daughters of my people I" But, howeverpain-
ful tlie sight, we ought not to turn away our eyes,
with fastidious aff"ectalion, from the spectacles of
misery and devastation which the authentic records
of history present before us. They form traits in
tlie character of man, which ought to be contem-
plated,— they are facts in the history of mankind,
and not the mere pictures of fancy which are ex-
hibited in poetry, in novels, and romances, — facts

* Miot's Memoirs.

which forcibly exemplify the operations of tha
malevolent principle, and from which wo ought to
deduce ifn|)ortaiit instructions, in reference to the
evil of sin, and the malignancy of pride, covetous-
ness, ambition, and revenge. We think nothing,
in the common intercourse of life, of indulging a
selfish disposition, of feeling proud and indignant
at a real or supposed aflTront, of looking with a
covetous eye at the possessions of our neighbors,
of viewing the success and prosperity of our rivals
with discontentment and jealousy, or of feeling a
secret satisfaction at the distress or humiliation of
our enemies ; and we seldom reflect on the ma-
lignant eft'ects which such passions and disposi-
tions would produce, were they suft'ered to rage
without control. But, in the scenes and conten-
tions of warfare which have been realized on the
great theater of the world, we contemplate the na-
ture and^fFects of such malignant dispositions in
their true light ; we perceive the ultimate tenden-
cy of every malevolent affection, when no physi-
cal obstruction impedes its progress ; we discern
that it is only the same dispositions which we
daily indulge, operating on a more extensive
scale ; and we learn the necessity of mortifying
such dispositions, and counteracting their influ-
ence, if we expect to enjoy substantial felicity
either here or hereafter ; and if we wish to see the
world restored to order, to happiness and repose.

I shall only observe farther on this part of my
subject, that, beside the atrocities already noticed,
war has been the nurse of ei^ery vicious disposition,
and of every immoral practice. The Carthagi-
nians, who were almost incessantly cngageJ in
war, were knavish, vicious, cruel, and supersti-
tious ; distinguished for craft and cunning, lying
and hypocrisy, and for the basest fiauds and the
most perfidious actions. The Goths and Vandals
are uniformly characterized, as not only barba-
rous and cruel, but avaricious, perfidious, and dis-
regardful of the most solemn promises. It was
ever a sutTicient reason for them to make an attack,
that they thought their enemies could not resist
them. Their only reason for making peace, or
for keeping it, was because their enemies were
too strong ; and their only reason f'ir committing
the most horrible massacres, rapes, and all manner
of crimes, was because they had gained a victory.
The Greeks and Romans, it is well known, not-
withstanding their superior civilization, were dis-
tinguished for the most degrading and immoral
practices. They gioried in being proud, haughty,
and revengeful ; and even their amusements were
characterized by a spirit of ferocity, and by the
barbarisms of war. — It is almost needless to say
that war blunts the finer feelings of humanity
and engenders a spirit of selfishness, and of indif-
ference even toward friends and companions. Of
this many shocking instances could be given.

Miot, in his I\Iemoirs of the War in Egypt, re-
lates the case of a soldier who was seized with the
plague, and with the delirium which sometimes
accompanies the disease. He took up his knap-
sack, upon which his head was resting, and pla-
cing it upon his shoulders, made an effort to rise,
and to follow the army. The venom of the dread-
ful malady deprived him of strength, and after
three steps, he fell again upon the sand, headlong.
The fall increased his terror of being left by the
regiment, and he rose a second time, but with no
better fortune. In his third efiort, he sunk, aud
falling near the sea, remained upon that spot
which fate had destined for his grave. The sight
of this soldier was frightful : the disorder which
reigned in his senseless speech — his figure, which
represented whatever is mournful — his eyes st^'ing

104

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

and fixed — his clotlics in rags — presented whatever
is most liideous in dealh. Tho riMider may per-
haps believe that his comrades would be concerned
for him ; that they would stop to help him ; tiiut
they would hasten to support him, and direct his
tottering steps. Far from it : the poor wretch
was only an object of horror and derision. They
ran from him, and they burst into loud luui/Jiter at
his motions, which resembled tliose of a drunken
man; " Ho lias got his account," cried one ; " He
will not march far," said another ; and, when the
wretch fell for the last time, some of them added,
•'See, he has taken up his quarters !" This terri-
ble truth, saj's the narrator, which I cannot help
repeating, must be acknowledged — Indifference and
selfishness are the predominant feelings of an army.

Rocca, in his " Memoirs of the War in Spain,"
remarks, " The habit of danger made us look upon
death as one of the most ordinary circumstances
of life ; when our comra les had once ceased to
live, the indifference which was shown them
amounted almost to irony. When the soldiers, as
they passed by, recognized one of their compan-
ions stretched among the dead, they just said, ' He
is in want of nothing, he will not have his horse
to abuse ag;iin, he has got drunk for the last time,'
or something similar, which only worked, in the
speaker, a stoical contempt of existence. Such
were the funeral orations pronounced in honor of
those who fell in our battles." — Simpson, in his
•'Visit to Flanders," in I8l5, remarks, "Nothing
is more frightful than the want of feeling wliieh
characterizes the French soldiery. Tiieir priso-
ners who were h'ing wounded in the hospitals of
Antwerp, were often seen mimicking the contortions
of countenance which were produced by the agonies
of death, in one of their own comrades in the next bed.
There is no curse to be compared with the power
of fiends like these."

Thus, it appears, that wars have prevailed in
every period, during the ages that are passed, and
have almost extirpated the principle of benevolence
from the world ; and, therefore, it is obvious, that,
before the prevailing propensity to warfare be
counteracted and destroyed, the happiness which
flows from the operation of tlie benevolent affec-
tions cannot be enjoyed by mankind at large. To
counteract this irrational and most deplorable pro-
pensity, by every energetic means which reason,
humanity, and Christianity can suggest, must be
the duty of every one who is desirous to pro-
mote the present and everlasting happiness of his
species.*

SECTION II.
State of morals i.\ modern' times.

Moral state of Savage Nations.

I SHALL now take a very brief survey of the
state of morals in modern times, and of the pre-
vailing dispositions which are displayed by tiie
existing inhabitants of our globe. Were I to en-
ter into those minute and circumstantial details
ivhich the illustration of this subject would re-
quire, several volumes would be tilled with tlie

* The Author intended, had liis limits permitted, to state
some additional considerations to sliow the folly and wicli-
edness of war. In the meantime, he refers his readers to
'Letters addressed to Caleh Strong, Es(|.," which contain
a series of eneriretic and impressive reasonings on the suh-
ject. — "Pictures of War," by Iienicus, and a duodecimo
volume, lately published, entitled, " An Inquiry into the ac-
•ordancy of War with the principles of Christianity," &i.c.

detail of facts, and with the sketches of moral
scenery which might be brought forward. And
such a work, if judiciously executed, might be
rendered highly interesting, and might produce a
variety of benignant efl'ecls both on Christian and
on general society. But the narrow limits within
whicli the present work must be comprised, com-
pels me to confine my attention to a few promi-
nent features in the characters of mankind, and
to a few insulated facts by which they may be
illustrated. — I shall consider, in tho first place,
some of the

Prominent dispositions tchich appear among Socage
and Half Civilized Nations.

It is not to he disputed, that numerous indi-
viduals among the uncivilized tribes of mankind,
have occasionally displayed the exercise of many
of the social virtues, — that they have been brave
and magnanimous, faithful to their promises,
strong in their attachments, and generous and af-
fectionate to their friends and relatives. But their
virtues, for the most part, proceed from a princi-
ple of selfishness, and are confined to the clan or
tribe to which they belong. Toward their ene-
mies, and toward all who have injured them in
the sliglitest degree, they almost uniformly dis-
play cruel, perfidious, and revengeful dispositions.
The following facts and descriptions, selected
from the authentic records of voyagers and trav-
elers, will tend to corroborate these positions.

The most prominent feature which appears in
the character of savage nations, is, their disposi-
tion for war, and to inflict revenge for real or
supposed injuries. With respect to the North
America-; Indians, it is the uniform description
given of them by all travelers, that, if we except
hunting, icar is the only employment of the men,

and every other concern is left o the women

Their most common motive lor entering into war,
is, either to revenge themselves for the death of
.some lost friends, or to acquire prisoners, who
may assist them in their hunting, and whom they
adopt into their society. In these wars, they are
crti'd and savage, to an incredible degree. They
enter unawares, the villages of their foes, ana,
while the flower of the nation are engaged in
hunting, massacre all the children, women, and
helpless old men, or make prisoners of as many
as they can manage. But when the enemy is ap-
prized of their design, and coming on in arms
against them, they throw themselves flat on the
ground, among the withered herbs and leaves,
which their faces are painted to resemble. They
then allow a part to pass unmolested; when, all
at once, with a tremendous shout, rising up from
their ambusli, they pour a storm of musket-balls
on their foi^s. If the force on each side continues
nearly equal, the fierce spirits of these savages,
inflamed by the loss of friends, can no longer be
restrained. They abandon their distant war, they
rush upon one another with clubs and hatchets in
their hands, magnifying their own courage, and
insulting their enemies. A cruel combat ensues;
death appears in a thousand hideous forms, which
would congeal the blooi of civilized nations to be-
hold, but which rouse the fuiy of these savages.
Tiiey trample, they insult over the dead bodies,
tearing the scalp from the head, wallowing in
their blood like wild beasts, and sometimes de-
vouring their flesh. The flame rages on until it
meets with no resistance; then the prisoners are
secured, whose fate is a thousand' times moiD
dreadful than theirs who have died in the field. —
The conquerors set up a hideous howling, to

DISPOSITIONS OF SAVAGE NATIONS.

105

lament the friends they have lost. They approach
to their own village; the women, with frightful
ehriekss, come out to mourn their dc^d brothers,
or tlieir luisbauds. An orator proclaims aloud a
circumstanlial account of every particular of the
expedition; and as he mentions the names of
those who have fdlen, the shrieks of the women
ere redoubled. The last ceremony is the procla-
mation of victory: each individual then forgets
his private misfortune, and joins in the triumpli
of his nation; all tears are wiped from their eyes,
and, by an unaccountable transition, they pass in
a moment from the bitterness of sorrow, to an ex-
travagance of joy.*

As they feel nothing but revenge for the ene-
mies of their nation, their prisoners are treated
with cruelty in the extreme. The cruelties in-
flicted on those prisoners who arc doomed to
death, are too shocking and horrible to be exhi-
bited in detail: one plucks out the nails of the
prisoner by the roots; another takes a finger into
his mouth, and tears off the flesh with his teeth;
a third thrusts the finger, mangled as it is, into
tlie bowl of a pipe made red hot, which he smokes
like tobacco: they then pound his toes and fingers
to pieces between two stones; they apply red hot
irons to every part of his mangled body; they
pull off his flesh, thus mangled and roasted, and
devour it with greediness; — and thus they con-
tinue for several liours, and sometimes for a whole
day, until they penetrate to tlie vital parts, and
eompletely exhaust the springs of life. Even
«iie women, forgetting the human, as well as the
female nature, and transformed into something
worse than furies, frequently outdo the men in
tliis scene of horror; while the princi})al persons
of the country sit round the stake to which the
prisoner is fixed, smoking, and looking on with-
out the least emotion. What is most remarkable,
the prisoner himself endeavors to brave his tor-
ments with a stoical apathy. " 1 do not fear
death (he exclaims in the face of his tormentors),
nor any kind of tortures; those that fear them
are cowards, they are less than women. May my
enemies be confounded with despair and rage I
Oh, that I could devour them, and drink their
blood to the last drop!"

Such is a faint picture of the ferocious disposi-
tion of the Indians of America, wliicii, with a
few slight modifications, will apply to almost the
whole of the original natives of that vast conti-
nent. Instead of the exercise of benevolent afFec-
tious, and of forgiving dispositions; instead of
humane feelings, and compassion for the suffer-
ings of fellow-mortals, we here behold them
transported into an extravagance of joy, over the
Bufferings they had produced, the carnage they
had created, the children whom they had deprived
of their parents, and the widows whose husbands
they had mangled and slain; because they had
glutted their revenge, and obtained a victory. —
Nothing Can appear more directly opposed to the
precepts of Christ, and to the benevolence of
heaven.

If, from America, we cross the Atlantic, and
land on the shores of Africa, we shall find tlie
existing inhabitants of that continent displaying
dispositions no less cruel and ferocious. Bosman
relates the following instances of cruelties prac-
ticed by the Adomese Negroes, inhabiting the
banks of the Prua or Chamah river.

"Anqua, the king, having in an engagement
taken five of his principal Antcse enemies i)ri-
soners, wounded them all over; after which,

* See Ency. Brit., Art. America.

with a more than brutal fury, he satiated, though
not tired himself, by sucking their blood at the
gaping wounds; but, bearing a more than ordi-
nary grudge against one of them, ho caused liim
to be laid bound at his feet, and his body to be
pierced with hot irons, gathering the blood that
insued from him in a vessel, one half of which he
drank, and otlbred up the rest to his god. C)n an-
other occasion, he put to death one of his wives
and a slave, drinking their blood also, as was his
usual practice with his enemies."* — Dispositions
and practices no less abominable, are regularly
exliibiti-d ii> tiio kingdom of Dahomey, near the
Gulf of Guinea. An immolation of human vie*
tims, for the purpose of watering the graves of
the king's ancestor.':, and of supplying them v/ith
servants of various descriptions in the other
world, takes place every year, at a grand festival
which is held generally in April and May, about
the period, possibly, when the Bible and Mission-
ary Societies of this country are holding their an-
niversaries. The victims are generally prisoners
of war, reserved for the purpose; but, should
there be a lack of these, the number (between
sixtj' and seventy) is made up from the most con-
venient of his own subjects. The immolation of
victims is not confined to this particular period;
for at any time, should it be necessary to gend an
account to his forefathers of any remarkable
event, the king dispatches a courier to the shades,
by delivering a message to whoever may happen
to be near him, and then ordering his head to be
chopped off immediately. It is considered an
honor where his majesty personally condescends
to become the executioner in these cases; an office
in which the king prides himself in being expert
Tlie governor was present on one occasion, when
a poor fellow, whose fear of death outweighing
the sense of the honor conferred upon him, on
being desired to carrj' some message to his father,
humbly declared on his knees, that he was unac-
quainted with the way. On which the tyrant
vociferated, "I'll show you the way," and, with
one blow, made his head fly many yards from his
body, highly indignant that there should have
been the least expression of reluctance. t On the
thatched roofs of the guard-houses which sur-
round the palace of this tyrant, are ranged, on
wooden stakes, numbers of human skulls; the
top of the wall wliich encloses an area before it,
is stuck full of human jaw-bones, and tj^e path
leading to the door is paved with skulls.

In the kingdom of Ashantee, similar practices
uniformly prevail. " When the king of this
country (says Dupiiis) was about to open the
campaign in Gaman, he collected together his
priests, to invoke the royal FeiiscJic, and perform
the necessary orgies to insure success. These
ministers of superstition sacrificed thirty-two
male, and eighteen female victims as an expiatory
offering to tlie gods; but the answers from the
priests being deemed by the council as still devoid
of inspiration, the king was induced to make a
custom, at the sepulchers of his ancestors, where
many hundreds bled. This, it is afiirmed, propi-
tiated the wrath of the adverse god." The same
king, when he returned, having discovered a con-
spiracy, decreed, that seventeen of his wives,
along with his own sister, should be strangled and
beheaded. "His sister's paramour, and all those
of his party, were doomed to the most cruel
deaths, at the grave of the king's mother.—
While these butcheries were transacting, the king

* Dnpuis' Journal in Ashantee ,
t M'Leod's voyage to Africa.

106

THE PIIILOSOPPIY OF RELIGION.

prepared to enter fho ptilace; and in the act of
crossing the threslihold ol' the outer gate, was met
by several of his wives, wliose anxi'^ty to em-
brace their sovereign lord inii)elled tliem thus to
overstep the boundary of female decorum in
Ashantee; for it happened tliat the king was ac-
companied by a number of his captains, who, ac-
cordingly, were compelled to cover their faces
with ijoth their hands, and fly from the spot. —
This is said to have angered the monarch, al-
tliougli his resentment proceeded no farther than
word.-^, and he returned the embraces of his
rt'ives. But another cause of anger soon after
occurred, and he was inflamed to the highest
pitch of indignation, and, in a paroxj'sm of anger,
caused these unhappy beings to be cut in pieces
before his face, giving orders, at the same time,
to cast the fragments into the forest, to be de-
voured by birds and beasts of prey. Nor did the
atonement rest here; for six more unhappy fe-
males were impeached of inconstancy, and they
also expiated their faults with their lives. Like
another Ulysses, his majesty then devoted him-
self to the purification of his palace, when, to
sum up the full horrors of these bloody deeds,
two thousand wretches, selected from the Gaman
prisoners of war, were slaughtered over the royal
<leath-stool, in honor of the shades of departed
kings and heroes."*

Such are a few specimens of the ferocious dis-
positions of the petty tyrants of Africa. But we
are not to imagine, that such dispositions are con-
fined to kings, and to the higher ranks of society.
Wherever such malevolent passions are displayed
among barbarous chieftains, they pervade, in a
greater or less degree, the whole mass of the peo-
ple, and almost every one, in proportion to the
power with which he is invested, perpetrates simi-
lar barbarities. The following instance will cor-
roborate this position, and, at the same time,
show, for how many cruellies and acts of injus-
tice the abettors of the infamous traflic in slaves,
are accountable. It is extracted from Major
Gray's "Travels in Africa, in 1824."

The Kaartan force which t!ie Major accompa-
nied, had made 107 prisoners, chiefly women and
children, in a predatory excursion into Bondoo, for
the purpose of supplying themselves with slaves.
The following is an accon.nt of the manner in
which they were dragged along. "The men
were tied in pairs by the necks, their hands se-
cured behind their backs; the women by the
necks only; but their hands were not left free
from any sense of feeling for them, but in order
to enable them to balance the immense loads of
corn or rice wliich tliey were obliged to carry on
their heads, and their ciiildren on their backs." —
"I h.id an opportunity," says Major Gray, "of
witnessing, during this short march, the new-
made slaves, and the sultl'rings to which thev are
subjected in their first state of bondage. They
were hurried along (tied) at a pace little short of
running, to enable them to keep up with the
horsemen, who drove tliem on, as Smithfield dro-
vers do fatigued bullocks. Many of the women
were old, and by no means able to endure such
treatment. One, in particular, would not have
failed to excite the tendcrest feelings of compas-
sion in the breast of any, save a savage African.
She was at least sixty years old, in the most mis-
erable state of emaciation and debility, nearly
doubled together, and with difficulty dragging her
tottering limbs along. To crown the heart-rend-

• Dnpuis' Mission to Ashantee, in 1S23.

ing picture, she was naked, save from her waist
to about half way to the knees. All this did not
prevent her inhuman captor from making her
carry a heavy load of water, while, with a rope
about her neck, he drove her before his horse;
and whenever she showed the least inclination to
stop, he beat her in the most unmerciful manner
with a stick."

Were we to travel through the whole interior
of Africa, and round its northern, eastern, and
western coasts, we should find, among almost
every tribe, numerous displays of the most inhu-
man and depraved dispositions. The Alyerinea
are characterized as the most cruel and dangerous
pirates — base, perfidious, and rapacious to llie last
degree. No oaths, nor ties, human or divine,
will avail to bind them, when their interest inter-
feres. Whatever respect they may pretend to
pay to their prophet Mahomet, gold is the only
true idol which they worship. I'he emperors of
Morocco are well known as a set of rapacious
and blood-thirsty tyrants, who have lived in a state
of habitual warfare with Christian nations, and
in the perpetration of deeds of injustice and cru-
elty. The Gallas, on the borders of Abyssinia,
are a barbarous and warlike nation. They are
hardy, and of a ferocious disposition; they are
trained to the love of desperate achievements,
taught to believe that conquest entitles them to
the possession of whatever they desire, and to
look upon death with the utmost contempt; and
therefore, in their wars, they fight with the most
desperate resolution, and neither give nor take
any quarter. The inhabitants of Add, too, are
of a warlike disposition, and most frequently I've
in enmity and hostility with those around them
The Feloops are gloomy and unforgiving in their
tempers, thirsting for vengeance even in the hour
of dissolution, and leaving their children to avenge
their quarrels. The inhabitants of the Grain
Coast, especially the Mulattoes, are said to be a
most abandoned set of people. The men are
drunkards, lewd, thievish, and treacherous, and
the women are the most abandoned prostitutes,
sacrificing themselves at all times, and to all sorts
of men, without the least degree of restraint.* —
The natives of Ansico, which borders on Angola,
live by plundering all who happen to fall in their
way, some of whom they kill, and others they
keep as slaves. f " The Boshemen are land pirates,
who live without laws and without discipline;
who lurk in thickets, to watch the passage of
travelers, and shoot them with poisoned arrows,
in order to seize their cattle. "+ "The negroes of
Congo (says M. de la Brosse in his Travels along
the coast of Angola, in 1738), are extremely
treacherous and vindictive. They daily demand-
ed of us some brandy for the use of the king
and the chief men of the town. One day this re-
quest was denied and we had soon reason to repent
it; for all the English and French oflicers having
gone to fish on a small lake near the sea-coast,
they erected a tent for the purpose of dressing
and eating the fishes they had caught. When
amusing themselves after their repast, seven or
eight negroes, who were the chiefs of Loango,
arrived in sedans, and presented their hands ac-
cording to the custom of the country. These
negroes privately rubbed the hands of the officers
with a subtle poison, which acts instantaneously;
and, accordingly, five captains and three sur-
geons died on the spot."

* Cooke's Universal Geography, Vol. I, p. 447.
t Ibid. t Valiant's TraveU

DISPOSITIONS OF SAVAGE NATIONS.

107

The Moors are characterized by Mr. Park as
naviiig cruelty and low cumiing pictured on their
c'ouutonauces. Their treachery and malevolence
are manifested in their piundering excursions
against the negro villages. Without the smallest
provocation, an.l somelimos under the fairest pro-
fe.-nions of friinidship, they will seize upon the
Negroes' cattle, and even on the inhabitants
themselves. The Uedouins are plunderers of the
cult vated lands, and robbers on the high roads;
they walch every opportunitj' of revenging tliL'ir
enemies, and tlieir animosities are trausmilted as
an inheritance from father to children. Even the
Egijpliaiis, who are morj civilized than the tribes
to which I have now alluded, are characterized
by excessive pride, v. n'i live tempers, inordinate
passionsj and various si)ecies of moral turpitude.
There is a trait in the character of the women of
tliis country, jiointedly adverted to by Sonini, in
his "Travels in Egypt." which is particularly
odious and horrible. On discovering any partiali-
ty in their husbands for other females, they are
transported into an unbounded and jealous fury.
Such are their deceit and cruelty on these occa-
eious, that they instil into the blood of their faith-
less husband, a slow and mortal poison. Their
revenge is meditated in silence, and they indulge
the diabolical satisfaction of taking off an unhap-
py being by a lingering death. It is said, with
confideuce, that their own persons supply the hor-
rid means of perpetrating their malicious designs
on their husbands, and that they mix with their
aliment a certain portion of an ingredient of a
poisonous nature, which infallibly induces a slow
languor and consumjUion, and in time brings the
wretched victims to the grave. The symptoms
are dreadful. I'iie body desiccates, the limbs be-
come excessively weak, the gums rot, the teeth
loosen, the hair falls off, and, at length, after hav-
ing dragged a miserable and tortured existence,
for a wliole year or more, the unhappy beings die
in the most extreme torment.

If we pass froiJi Africa to the regions of Asia,
we shall find si;iiilar depraved principles and prac-
tices pervading its several tribes, and the various
ranks of its population. Here, tyranny, in all its
degrading and cruel forms, reigns supreme and
uncontrolled over a superstitious, a deluded, and
an idolatrous race of mankind, — of which the
following recent instance.", iu relation to a petty
despot of Persia, may serve as a specimen. "The
governor ZullV'car Khun is pronounced to be a
cruel and unprincipled tyrant; unfortunately for
the people, he lias the ear of the sovereign, and
tliey have no resource against his rapacity. He
pays to the crown 7000 tomauns a year, but it is
asserted that he collects from the district 100,000.
His oppression was so grievous, that the inhabit-
ants, wearied out, went in a body to the king to
complain; but his maiesty only referred them
back to their tyrant, who, exasperated at their bold-
ness, wreaked' upon them a cruel vengeance. It
is said, that he maimed and put to death upward
of a thousand of both sexes, cutting off the hands,
putting out the eyes, and otherwise mutilating
the men, and cutting off the noses, ears, and
breasts ol the women. The people, desponding
and brokenhearted after this, paid, in so far as
they were able, t!ie rapacious demands of their
oppressor, and the natural consequence, ruin and
desolation has ensued."*

Sir John Chardin gives us the following ac-
iiount of the inhabitants of Mingrelia, particular-

T'lzer's Journey to Khorassan, 1823.

ly of the women. " The people are generally
handsome, the men strong and well-made, and
the women very beautiful; but both sexes are
very vicious and debauched. The women, though
lively, civil, and affectionate, are very perfidious;
for there is no wickedness which they will not
perpetrate, in order to procure, to preserve, or to
get rid of their gallants. The men likewise pos-
sess many bad qualities. All of thcni are trained
to robbery, which they study both as a business,
and as an amusement. With great satisfaction
they relate the depredations they have committed;
and, from this polluted source, they derive their
greatest praise and honor. In Mingrelia, false-
hood, assassination, and theft, are good actions;
and whoredom, bigamy, and incest, are esteemed
as virtuous habits. The men marry two or three
wives at a time, and keep as many concubines as
they choose. They not only make a common
practice of selling their children, either for gold,
or in exchange for wares and provisions, but even
murder them, or bury them alive, when they find
it difficult to bring them up."

The Tartars, who occupy vast regions of the
Asiatic continent, are uniformly described by
travelers, as a rude, plundering, and uncultivated
race of men. " There is something frightful,"
says Smellie, " in the countenances of the Cal-
muek Tartar.s. All of them are wandering vaga-
bonds, and live in tents made of cloth or of skins.
Tliey eat the flesh of horses, either raw, or a little
softened by putrefying under their saddles. No
marks of religion, or of decency in their man-
ners, are to be found among most of these tribes.
They are fierce, warlike, hardy, and brutally
gross. They are all robbers; and the Tartars of
Daghestan, who border on civilized nations, have
a great trade in slaves, whom they carry off by
force, and sell to the Persians and Turks." *

The Arabians, like the Tartars, live mostly
without government, without law, and almost
without any social intercourse. They still con-
tinue in a state of rudeness and of lawless inde-
pendency. Their chiefs authorize rape, theft,
and robbery. They have no estimation for virtue,
and glory in almost every species of vice. They
roam about in the deserts, and attack caravans
■and travelers of every description, whom they
frequently murder, and plunder of their property.
The Chinese, thongli more highly civilized than
the tribes now mentioned, and though they merit
great applause for their ingenuity, industry, and
perseverance, are as despicable in tlieir moral
characters, and as destitute of trnc benevolence,
as almost any nation U|)on earth. Avarice is
their leading passion; and in order to gratify it,
they practice every species of duplicity and fraud.
They cannot be influenced by motives either of
honesty or of luinianity; and they surpass every
nation on the globe in private cheating. Captain
Cook observes, that (the danger of being hanged
for any crime being excepted) " there is nothing,
however infamous, v/liich the Chinese will I'efuse
to do for gain." In this ojjinion he concurs with
every preceding and subsequent writer, and con-
firms it by a variety of striking proofs, of which
an a<idilional number rnay be seen in tiie accounts
which have been published of our late embassies
to that empire.

The Birmans are a lively inquisitive race, ac-
tive, irascible, and impatient. While iu peace,
they give proofs of a certain degree of gentleness
and civilization; in war, they display the ferocity

• Smellie's Philosophy of Nataral History.

108

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

of parages. — The Malays, thon;jli inhabiting ti
country beciutirul and dclightiiil in the extreme,
where refreshing gales and cooling streams as-
suage tile heat, "where the soil teems with deli-
cious fniit.s whore the trees are clothed with a
cculiiuial verdure, and the flowers breathe their
fragrant odoirs, are remarkably ferocious in their
manners. They go always armed (except the
slaves), and would think' themselves disgraced,
if they went abroad without their poniards.
The inland inh;tbitants of Malacca, called Monn-
cabnes, are a barbarous savage people, delighting
in doing continual mischief to their neighbors;
oil which account, no grain is sown about Ma-
lacca, but v\^hat is enclosed in gardens, with the
thickest lu^dges, or deep ditches; for v/hen the
grain is ripe in the open plain?, the Monucaboes
never fail to set fire to it. The Persians, in their
dispositions, says Mr. Franklin, are much inclined
to sudden anger, are quick, fiery, and very sensi-
ble of affronts, which they resent on the spot.
Chardin describes them as " warlike, vain, and
ambitious of praise; exceedingly luxurious, pro-
digal, voluptuous, and addicted to gallantry." It
is well known that the wars and fiend-like cruel-
ties in which the despots of this country have
been engaged, have transformed many of its pro-
vinces into scenes of sterility and desolation. —
The Hindoos are effeminate, luxurious, and early
initiated into the arts of dissimulation. They
can caress those whom they hate, and behave
with the utmost atfability and kindness to such
as they intend to deprive of existence, by the
most sanguinary means. Though they seldom
scold or wrangle, they often stab each other
insidiou.sly, and, without any public quarrel,
gratify a private revenge. The destruction of
infants, the immolation of widows, the drowning
of aged parents, which prevail among them, and
the cruel and idolatrous rites which distinguish
their religious services, are too well known to
require description. — The Turks, though grave,
sedate, and rather hypochondriac, yet when agita-
ted by passion, are furious, raging, ungovernable,
fraught with dissimulation, jealous, suspicious,
and vindictive beyond conception. They are su-
perstitious, and obstinately tenacious in matters
of :^ligion, and are incapable of exercising bene-
vc'^nce or even humanity toward Christians, or
toward Jews. Interest is their supreme good, and
when that comes in competition, all ties of reli-
gion, consanguinity, or friendship, are with the
generality, speedily dissolved. They have de-
prived of their liberty, and of their wealth, all
who have been subjected to their iron scepter,
and have plunged them into the depths of moral
and of mental debasement. The page of history
is tilled with details of their devastations and cru-
elties, and the deeds of injustice and of horror
which they have perpetrated, even in our own
limes, are scarcely equaled by tlie atrocities of
'•3 most savage hordes of mankind.

If we take a survey of the numerous tribes
which inhabit the Islands of the Indian and the
Pacific Oceans, we shall find similar depraved and
malevolent passions, raging without control, and
producing all tliose malignant and desolating
effects which have counteracted the benevolence
of the Creator, and entailed misery on the human
race. The dismal effects of the principle of
hatred directed toward human beings, the dispo-
Bition to engage in continual warfare, and the
savage ferocity of the human mind, when unre-
strained by moral and prudential considerations,
are nowhere so strikingly displayed, as in the
isles which are scattered throughcut the wide

expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Of the truth of
these positions we have abundance of melancholy
examples, in the reports of missionaries, and in
the journals which have been published by late
navigators, from which I shall select only two or
three examples.

The first instance I shall produce, has a rela.
lion chiefly to the inhabitants of Nfw Zealand.
With respect to these islanders Captain Cook
remarks, "Their public contentions are frequent,
or rather perj)et\ral; for, it appears from their
number of weapons, and dexterity in using them,
that war is their principal profession." — "The
war dance consists of a great variety of violent
motions, and hideous contortions of the limbs,
during which the countenance also performs a
part; the tongue is frequently thrust out to an
incredible length, and the eyelid so forcibly drawn
up, th.at the white appears both above and below,
as well as on each side of the iris, so as to form a
circle around it; nor is anything neglected so as
to render the human shape frightful and deform-
ed. To such as have not been accustomed to
such a practice, they appear more like demons
than men, and would almost chill the boldest with
fear; at the same time they brandish their spears,
shake their darts, and cleave the air with their
patoo-patoos. To this succeeds a circumstance
almost foretold in their fierce demeanor, horrid
and disgraceful to human nature, which is, cut-
ting to pieces, even before being perfectly dead,
the bodies of their enemies; and, after dressing
them on a fire, devouring the flesh, not only with-
out reluctance, but with peculiar satisfaction."
There is perhaps nothing that can convey a more
striking idea of the actions of pure malevolence,
and of the horrible rage and fury of infernal
fiends, than the picture here presented of these
savage islanders.

These people livd under perpetual apprehensions
of being destroyed by each other; there being
few of their tribes that have not, as they think,
sustained wrongs from some other tribe, which
they are continually on the watch to avenge, and
the desire of a good meal is no small incitement.
Many years will sometimes elapse before a favo-
rable opportunity happens, yet the son never
loses sight of an injury that has been done to his
father. — "Their method of executing their horri-
ble designs is by stealing upon the adverse party
in the night, and if they find them unguarded
(wliich is very seldom the case) they kill every
one indiscriminately, not even sparing the wo-
men and children. When the massacre is com-
pleted, they either feast and gorge themselves on
the spot, or carry off as many of the dead bodies
as they can, and devour them at home, with acts
of brutality too shocking to be described. If
they are discovered before they execute their
bloody purpose, they generally steal off again;
and sometimes are pursued and attacked by tlie
other party in their turn. To give quarter, or to
take prisoners, makes no part of tlieir military
law; so that the vanquished can save their lives
only by flight. This perpetual state of war, and
destructive method of conducting it, operates so
strongly in producing habits of circumspection,
that one hardly ever finds a New Zealander off
his guard, either by night or by day." * While
the miiKl is kept in such a state of incessant
anxiety and alarm, it must be impossible for hu-
man beings to taste the sweets of rational, or
even of sensitive enjoyment. A melancholy
gloom must hang over these wretched beings,

• Cook's Voyages

DISPOSITIONS OF NEW ZEALANDERS.

109

and the dark suspicious, and tlie revengeful pas-
sions whicli agitate their mimls, can only fit
them for those regions of darkness where the
radiations of benevolence are completely ex-
tinguished.

The imphicable. hatred which these savages en-
tertjiu toward each other, is illustrated, in the
folicwing short narrative from Captain Cook. —
" Among our occasional visitors was a chief
named Kahoora, who, as I was informed, headed
the party that cut off Cajjtain Furneaux's people,
and himself killed Mr. Rowe, the officer wiio
commanded. To judge of the character of Ka-
hoora, by what I had heard from many of his
countrymen, he seemed to be more feared than
beloved among them. Not satisfied with telling
me that he was a very bad man, some of theni
even importuned me to kill him: and, I believe,
they were not a little surpriseil that I did not
listen to them; for according to their ideas of
equity, this ought to have been done. But if I
had followed the advice of all our pretended
friends, I might have extirpated J^he whole race;
for the people of each hamlet or village, by turns,
lipplied to me, to destroy the other. One wouM
have almost thought it imi)ossible, that so striking
a proof of the divided state in which this people
live, could have been assigned."

Similar dispositions are displayed throughout
almost all the other islands of the Southern Ocean.
The following description is given by M. de la
Perouse, of the inliabitants of Maouna Oyolava.
and the other islands in the Namgator^s Archi-
pelago. " Their native ferocity of countenance
always expresses eitlier surprise or anger. The
least dispute between them is followed by blows
of sticks, clubs, or paddles, and often, without
doubt, costs the combatants their lives." With
regard to the women, he remarks: " The gross
effronlery of their conduct, the ijidecency of
theii motions, and the disgusting offers which
they made of their favors, rendered them fit
mothers and wives for the ferocious beings that
surrounded us." The treachery and ferocity of
Uiese savages were strikingly displayed in massa-
cring M. de Langle, the astronomor, and eleven
of the crew that belonged to Peronse's vessel, and
such was their fierce barbarity, that, after having
killed them, they still continned to wreak their
fury upon the inanimate bodies with their clubs.
The natives of New Calelonia are a race of a
similar description. Though Captain Cook de-
scribes them as apparently a good natured sort of
people, yet subsequent navigators have found
them to be almost the very reverse of what he'
described; as ferocious in the extreme, addicted
to cannibalism, and to every barbarity shocking
to human nature. The French navigator, Admi-
ral D'Eutrecasteaux, in his intercourse with these
people, received undoubted proofs of their savage
disposition, and of their being accustomed to feed
on human flesh. .Speaking of one of the natives,
who had visited his ship, and b.ad described the
various practices connected with cannibalisui, he
says, — "It is difficult to depict the ferocious
avidity with which he expressed to us, that the
flesh of their unfortunate victims was devoured
by them after they had broiled it on the coals.
This cannibal also let us know, that the flesh of
the arms and legs was cut into slices, and that they
considered the most muscular parts a very agreea-
ble dish. It was then easy for us to explain, why
they frequently felt our arms and legs, manifest-
ing a violent longing; they then uttered a faint
wliislling, which they produced by closing their
teeth, and applying to them the tip of the tongue;

afterward opening their mouth, they smacked
their lips several times in succession."

The characters of the islanders now described,
may be considered as common to the inhnhitants
of the New Hebrides, the Friendly Islands, tho
Alarquesas, the Sandwich, New Guinea, New
Britain, the Ladroncs, and almost all the islands
which arc dispersed over the vast expanse of the
Pacific Ocean. Captain Cook, when describing
the natives of New Zealand, remarks, that, " the
inhabitants of the other parts of the South Seas
have not even the idea of indecency with respect to
any object, or to any action." The iidiabitants
even of the Society and of the Sandwich Isles,
prior to the state of moral and religious improve-
ment to which they have lately advanced, though
their dispositions were somewhat milder than
those of the other islands, were almost equally low
in point of moral debasement. Captain Cook,
speaking of the n;^tives of Otaheite, declares,
" They are all arrant thieves, and can pick pockets
with the dexterity of the most expert London black-
guard."* When describing the societies distin-
guished by the name of Arreoy, he declares, as a
characteristic of the female part of the community,
•' If any of the women happen to be with child,
which in this manner of life, happens less fre-
quently than in ordinary cases, the poor infant is
smothered the moment it is born, that it may be
no incumbrance to the father, nor interrupt the
mother in the pleasures of her diabolical prostitu-
tion."f Another circumstance, stated by the same
navigator, exhibits their former moral character in
a still more shocking point of view. On the ap-
proach of war with any of the neighboring islands,
or on other interesting occasions, human sacrifices
were a universal practice. "When I described,"
says this illustrious voyager, " the Natibe at Ton-
gabatoo, I mentioned, that, on the approaching
sequel of that festival, we had been told that ten
men were to be sacrificed. This may give us an
idea of the extent of this religious massacre on
that island. And though we should suppose, that
never more than one person is sacrificed on any
single occasion at Ofaheite, it is more than proba-
ble, that these occasions happened so frequently,
as to make a shocki^ig waste of the human race ;
for I counted no less than forty-nine skulls of for-
mer victims, lying before the Moral, where wo
saw one more added to the number. And, as none
of these skulls had, as yet, suffered any considera-
ble change from the weather, it may hence be in-
ferred, that no great length of time had elapsed,
since this considerable number of unhappy wretch-
es had been offered on this altar of blood. "t Ho
also informs us, that iiuman sacrifices were more
frequent in the Sandwich, tlian in any of the oth-
er islands. " These liorrid rites," says he, " aro
not only had recourse to ui)on the commencement
of war, and preceding great battles, and other
signal enterprises ; but the death of any conside-
rable chief calls for a sacrifice of one or more
Towtows (that is, vulgar or low persons), accor-
ding to liis rank ; and we were told that ten men
were destined to suffer on the death of Terreioboo,
one of their great chiefs. §

Such are a few specimens of the moral disposi-
tions— the hatred, the horrid warfare, and the
abominable practices, which are displayed over
the gieater portion of the Eastern and Western
Continents, and among the thousands of islands
which diversify the surface of the Ocean — dispoai-

• Hawkeswortli's Narrative of Cook's Voyages, vol. U.

t Ibid. t Ibid.

§ Ilawkesworth's Narrative of Cook's Voyages, vol. IL

110

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

tions and practices, which, if permitted to extend
their influence universally, und without control,
would soon extirpate the intelligent creation, and
banish happiness from the empire of God.

WARI-IKE ATTITUDE OF SAVAGE NATIONS.

Were benevolence a characteristic of the inhabi-
tants of our globe, every traveler would be secure
from danger from his fellow-men ; he might land
on every shore witliout the least suspicion or
alarm, and confidently expect that his distresses
would be relieved, and his wants supplied, by
every tribe of the human race among whom he
might occasionally sojourn. No hostile weapons
would be lifted up to repel a stranger, when grati-
fying his curiosity in visiting distant lands, and
contemplating foreign scenes ; and no instruments
of destruction would require to be forged, to pre-
serve a nation from the inroads of destroyers. But
when we survey tlie actual state of mankind, we
find almost every nation under heaven, if not actu-
ally engaged in war, at least in a warlike attitude,
and one of their chief employments consists in devi-
sing schemes, either of conquest or revenge, and
in furnishing the instruments of death. The fol-
lowing instances may suffice, as illustrations of
this position.

The armies of AsHANTEE, says Dupuis, amount
to upward of eighty thousand men, armed with
tomahawks, lances, knives, javelins, bows, and
arrows ; and forty thousand, who can occasionally
be put in possession of muskets and blunderbusses.
— The opposing armies of Moslem and Dl\heru,
amounted at times to 140,000 men. — The king of
Dahomey, and his auxiliaries, can raise about 50,-
000 men, armed with bows and arrows, sabers, and
iron maces. — The king of Benin can arm 200,000,
upon an emergency, and furnish 10,000 of them
with muskets. In those countries of Africa,
where fire-arms and gunpowder are unknown,
they wield the following kinds of arms with great
dexterity and execution. These are, very strong
supple lances, which are barbed and poisoned,
targets, bows and arrows, tomahawks, and iron
maces; the former of which they are in the practice
of poisoning with a venom more deadly than that
which is used by any other nation, as its operation
is said to be sometimes instantaneous, and its
wound, though ever so slight, usually produces
death within the lapse of a few minutes.*

Such is the warlike disposition displayed by a
few comparatively insignificant tribes in Africa,
and similar dispositions are manifested, and simi-
lar attitudes assumed, by almost all the tribes
which inhabit that vast continent. Their time,
and their physical and mental exertions, seem to
be spent much in war, and in the preparation of
warlike instruments, as if these were the great
ends for which the Creator had brought them into
existence. If the ingenuity and the energies dis-
played in s- h preparations and pursuits, were
employed ic operations calculated to promote the
benefit of mankind, what an immense proportion
of happiness would be distributed among nume-
rous tribes which are just now sunk into de-
pravity, and into the depths of wretchedness and
woe!

Pallas, in His description of the nations inhabiting
the Caucus s, when speaking of tiie Circassia.ns,
says, " Pet ons of wealth and rank never leave
the house v, ithout a saber, nor do they venture be-
yond the limits of the village without being com-

* D jinis' " Mission to Ashantee, in 1823."

pletely arrayed, and having their breast pocket*,
supplied with ball cartridges." In regard to the
lower class, " when they do not carry a saber, with
other arms, they provide themselves with a strong
staff, two arshines long, on the top of which is
fixed a large iron head, and the lower end is fur-
nished with a sharp iron pike, about eighteen
inches long, which they are accustomed to throw
expertly, like a dart. The princes and knighta
pursue no other business or recreation than war,
pillage, and the amusements of the chase ; they
live a lordly life, wander about, meet at drink-
ing parties and undertake military excursions."
Among these people, " the desire of revenge, for
injuries received, is hereditary in the successors,
and in the whole tribe. It remains, as it were,
rooted with so much rancor, that the hostile prin-
ces or nobles of two different tribes, when they
meet each other on the road, or accidentally in
another place, are compelled to fight for tiieir lives;
unless they have given previous notice to eack
other, and bound themselves to pursue a difTerent
route. Unless pardon be purchased, or obtained
by intermarriage between the two families, the
principle of revenge is propagated to all succeed-
ing generations."*

It is well known, that in almost all the islands
in the Indian and the Southern Oceans, when na-
vigators attempt to land, in order to procure water
and provisions, they are almost unifonnly opposed
by crowds of ferocious savages, armed with long
spears, clubs, lances, bows and arrows; and, with
horrid yells, brandishing them in the most hostile
attitudes. In some instances, these warlike atti-
tudes might be accounted for, from a fear of the
depredations and murders which might be com-
mitted by strangers, with whose dispositions and
characters they are unacquainted. But the im-
placable hatred which they manifest toward even
the neighboring tribes, with which they are ac-
quainted, and of which I have already stated seve-
ral instances, shows, that war, revenge, and the
preparation of the instruments of death, are both
their employment, and their delight. Yea, not
only savage and half-civilized tribes, but almost
every civilized nation on the face of the earth, is
found in a hostile attitude with respect to sur-
rounding nations — either actirally engaged in a
deadly warfare with a foreign power, or preparing
for an attack, or keeping up fleets and standing
armies, and forging cannons, and balls, and
swords, in the prospect of a rupture with neigh-
boring states. And in such deadly preparations
and employments, a great proportion of those
Ijoasures is expended, which, if directed by the
hand of benevolence, would be the means of
transforming the wilderness into a fruitful field,
of distributing intelligence and moral principle
among all ranks, and of making the hearts of the
poor, the widow, and the orphan, " to leap for joy."
What a pitiful picture is here presented of Man,
who was originally formed after the image of his
Maker, for tiie purpose of displaying benevolent
affections toward his fellows, — now divided into
hostile tribes, and brandishing, with infernal fury,
at all around, the instruments of destruction.
How art thou fallen, 0 man, from thy original
station of dignity and honor ! " How is the gold
become dim, and the most fine gold changed !
The crown is fallen from our heads ; woe unto us,
for we have sinned I"

* Pallas' " Travels throngh he Sonthern Provinces of tli*
Russian Empire," Vol. II, pf 401-405.

INHUMANITY TO SHIPWRECKED MARINERS.

Ill

IWHUJIAMTY OF U.VCIVILTZKD TRIBES TO UNFORTUXATE
TRAVELERS.

In passing through the scene of his earthly pil-
grimage, Man is exposed to a variety of distresses
and dangers. Sometimes he is exposed to " the
pestilence that walketh in darkness," and to the
fever "that wasteth at noon-day." Sometimes
he is exposed to the desolations of the earthquake
and the volcano; the hlusts of the tempest, the
hurricane, and the tornado, and the billows of the
stormy ocean; and, at other times, he is exposed
to the attacks of the lion, the tiger, and the hyena,
in the dark recesses of the forest. It would be
well, however, with man, were these the only
evils and enemies which he had to encounter.
But the greatest enemy which man has to encoun-
ter, is Man himself — those who are partakers of
the same nature, and destined to the same immor-
tal existeuce; and from these kindred beings, he
is exposed to evils and distresses, incomparably
grealer and more numerous, than all the evils
which he suflers from tiie ravenous beasts of the
forest, or from the fury of the raging elements.
It is a most melancholy reflection, that, through-
out the greater part of the habitable ^v'T)rld, no
traveler can prosecute his journey, without being
in hazard either of being dragged into captivity,
or insulted and maltreated, or plundered of his
treasures, or deprived of his life, by those who
ought to be his friends and protectors. After he
has eluded the pursuit of the lion or the wolf, or
after he has escaped, with difficulty, from the jaws
of the devouring deep, he is frequently exposed to
the fury of demons in human shape, who exult
over his misfortuues, instead of relieving the
wants of his body, and soothing the anguish of
his mind. The following relations, among a nu-
merous series which might be presented to the
view of the reader, will tend to illustrate these re-
marks.

My first example shall be taken from the "Nar-
rative of the Loss of the Grosvenor Indiaman."
This vessel sailed from Trincomalee. June 1.3th, !
1782, on her homeward-bound voyage, and was |
wrecked on the coast of Caffraria, on the 4th of ',
August following. It is needless to dwell on the !
circumstances which attended the shipwreck, and j
on the consternation, distraction, and despair,
which seized upon the passengers and the crew, |
when they became alive to all the t-rrors of the I
scene. Shipwreck, even in its mildest form, is a i
calamity which never fails to fill the mind with t
horror; but what is instant death, considered as a I
temporary evil, compared with the situation uf I
those who had hunger, an;l thirst, and nakedness, |
to contend with; who only escaped the fury of I
the waves, to enter into conflicts with the savages j
of the forest, or the still greater savages of the
human race; who were cut off" from all civilized
society, and felt the prolongation of life to be only
the lengthened pains of di*ath?

After losi'ig about twenty men, in thf'ir first
attempts to land, the remaining part of the crew
and the passengers, in number about a hundred,
after encountering many difficulties and dangers,
reached the shore. Next morning a thousand
uneasy sensations were produced, from the natives
having come down to the shore, and, without cere-
mony, carried off whatever suited their fancy.
They were at this lime about 4-17 leagues from
the Cape of Good flope, and 226 beyond the limits
of any Christian habitation. Their only resource
appeared to be, to direct their course by land to
the Cape, or to the nearest Dutch settlement. As
they moved forward, they were followed by some

of the natives, who, instead of sliowing compas-
sion to this wretched group, plundered iheni from
time to time, of what they liked, and sometimes
pelted them with stones. In this way they pur-
sned their journey for four or five days; during
which the natives constantly surrounded them in
the day, taking from them whatever they pleased,
but invariably retired in the night. As they pro-
ceeded, they saw many villages, which they care-
fully avoided, that they might be less exposed to
the insults of the natives. At last, tliey came to
a deep gully, where three of the CuflVes met
them, armed with lances, which they held seve-
ral times to the captain's throat. Next day, on
coming to a large village, they found these three
men, with three or four hundred of their country-
men, all armed with lances and targets, who stop-
ped the F'nglish, and began to pilfer and insult
them, and at last fell upon them, and beat them.
With these inhuman wretches they had to engage
in a kind of running fight for upward of two
hours : after which, they cut the buttons from
their coats, and presented them to the natives, on
which, they went away and returned no more.
The following night they were terrified with the
noise of the wild beasts, and kept constant watch
for fear both of them and the nalives. How
dreadful a situation, especially for those delicate
ladies and children, who haa so lately been ac-
customed to all the delicacies of the East ! Next
day, as they were advancing, a party of natives
came down upon them, and plundered them,
among other things, of their tinder-box, fiiiit and
steel, which proved an irreparable loss. Every
man was new obliged to travel, by turns, with a
fire-brand in his hand; and before the natives
retired, they showed more insolence than ever,
robbing the gentlemen of their watches, and the
ladies of their jewels, which they had secreted in
their hair. Opposition was vain; the attempt only
brought fresh insults or blows.

This group of wretched wanderers now sepa-
rated into different parties, and took diff'eror.t di-
rections; their provisions were nearlj' exhausted;
and the delay occasioned by traveling with the
women and children was very great. Their difii-
culties increased, as they proceeded on their jour-
ney; they had numerous rivers, sometimes nearly
two miles in breadt.h, to swim across in the course
of their route, while the women and children
were conveyed across on floating stages, at the
imminent hazard of their lives, and of being car-
ried down by the impetuous current into the seeu
Whole days were spent in tracing the rivers to-
ward their source, in order to obtain a ford. They
traversed vast plains of sand, and bleak and barren
deserts, where nothing could be found to alleviate
their hunger, nor the least drop of water to quench
their raging thirst. They passed through deep
forests, where human feet had never tro :, where
nothing was heard but the dreadful bowlings of
wild beasts, which filled them with alarm and de-
spair. Wild sorrel, berries which the birds had
picked at, and a few shell-fish which th-y occa-
sionally i)icked up on the shore, were the only
food which they had to subsist on for several days;
and on some occasions the dead body of a seal, ot
the putrid carcass of a whale, was hailed as a de-
licious treat to their craving ap|)etites. One per-
son fell after another into the arms of death,
through hunger, fatigue, and despair, and were
sometimes obliged to be left in the agonies of dis-
solution, as a prey to rav'enous beasts, or to the
fowls of heaven. The following circumstance
shows the dreadful situation to which th'-y were
reduced for want of food. "It appeared thai rt»e

112

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

captaia's steward liad been buried in tbe sand of
tlie last desert they luid pas.vod, and that tlio sur-
vivors were reduced to sucli extroinily, that, after
he Imd been interred, tliey sent back two of their
companions to cut ofl' purt of his flesh; but while
they proceeded in this horrid business, they hud
the good fortune to discover a young seal, newly
driven on shore, which proved a most seasonable
relief."

Imagination cannot form a scene of deeper dis-
tress tl'.an what the tender sex, and the little child-
ren must, in such a case, have experienced. It
harrows up the very soul to think what pangs
those delicate females who had so lately been in-
ured to all the pleasures and luxuries of India,
must have endured, when they wore fain to ap-
pease their craving appetites on the putrid carcass
of a whale, and were obliged to repose on the bare
ground, amidst the howlLiigs of the tempest, and
the more dismal yells of the beasts of prey. But,
amidst this heart-rending scene, their fellow-men,
who ought to have been their soothers and protec-
tors, and who had it in their power to have allevi-
ated their distresses, were the greatest enemies
they h.ad to encounter; and their appearance filled
their minds with greater alarm than if they had
beheld a roaring lion, or a raging bear. The fol-
lowing are some specimens of the perfidy and in-
humanity of the natives. In passing through a
village, one of the company observing, "that a
traffic would not be unacceptable, offered them
the inside of his watch for a calf; but though they
assented to the terms, no sooner had they obtained
the price, than they withheld the calf, and drove
the. JCngiish from their village." In the same
manner were they used on many other occasions.
One time, when resting at a village, where the
natives offered no particular resistance, " they
produced two bowls of milk, which they seemed
willing to barter, but as our wretched countrymen
had nothing to give in exchange, they denied
them this humble boon without an equivalent,
and ate it up themselves." At the same place,
they implored in the most impressive terms, to
partake with the natives of the spoils of a deer,
which they had just killed, but they turned a
deaf ear to their solicitations, and insisted, more-
over, on their quitting the kraal. On another
occasion, " on coming to a large village, the inha-
bitants set upon them with such fury, that several
were severely wounded, and one of them died
soon after."

In this manner, did the wretched remains of
these hapless wanderers traverse the wilds of Af-
rica, during the space of one hundred and seven-
teen days, until they accidentally met with some
Dutch settlers, when within 400 miles of the Cape.
Here they were treated with the kindest attention,
and their wants relieved. But by this time, only
15 or 20 emaciated beings survived, out of more
tlian 120 persons who were on board the Grosve-
nor. What became of the captain and his party
is still unknown. Some are supposed to have
perished from hunger, some through grief and
fati'jue, and others to have been killed by the
inhospitable natives. — Now, all the accumulated
miseries endured by these unfortunate travelers,
and the premature death of nearly a hundred per-
sons, are to be attributed to that spirit of selfish-
ness, inhumanity, and hostility, which, in all ages,
lias prevented enjoyment, and entailed misery on
the human race. Had a principle of love to man-
kind pervaded the hearts of the wretched Caffres,
or had even the common feelings of humanity been
exercised toward their fellow-creatures in distress,
the whole of the unfortunate individuals that pe-

rished in Africa's inhospitable clime, might haV9
been conducted in .safety to their friends and theli
native land.

My next example is taken from M. De Bris-
son's " Narrative of his shipwreck, and captivity
among the Moors."

M. Brisson was shipwrecked on the coast of
Barbary, on the 10th July, 1785, and, after much
difficulty and danger, he/ along with the crew,
escaped safe to land. No sooner had they reach-
ed t!io shore, than they were surrounded by a
crov.'u of savages, and seized by the collars. " Tho
Arab;^," says M. Brisson, "armed with cutlasses
and h-j-'^e clubs, fell upon my companions with
incredi,'):e ferocity; and I had the mortification of
soon seeing some of them wounded, while others,
stripped and naked, lay stretched out and exj)iring
on the sand. The news if our shipwreck being
spread abroad through tL country, we saw the
savages running with the g. >atcst eagerness from
all quarters. The women, eni^jfed that they could
not pillage the ship, threw thffijselves upon us,
and tore from us the few article^" of dress which
we had left. While they went to the shore to
obtain more plunder, a company of Ouadelims
discovered and pillaged our retreat, and beat us
in the most unmerciful manner, until I was al-
most at the last gasp. My mind was so much
affected that I could not refrain from tears: and
some of the women having observed it, instead of
being moved with compassion, threw sand in my
eyes, ' to dry up my tears,' as they expressed it."
M. Brisson was forced, by these rude barbarians,
into the interior of the country, as a captive
" After passing," says he, " mountains of a pro-
digious bight, which were covered with smal]
sharp flints, I found that the soles of my feel
were entirely covered with blood. I was per-
mitted to get up behind my master on his camel
but as I was naked, I could not secure myself
from the friction of the animal's hair, so that in a
very little time my skin was entirely rubbed ofE
My blood trickled down over the animal's sides,
and this sight, instead of moving the pity of these
barbarians, afforded them, a subject of diversion.
They sported with my sufferings; and that their
enjoyments might be still higher, they spurred on
their camels." After traveling for sixteen days,
during which they were exposed to the greatest
fatigue, and the most dreadful miseries, they at
length reached the place of their destination, in
a most wretched and exhausted condition. And
what was the manner of their reception? Tlsa
women having satisfied their curiosity in inqui-
ries about the strangers, immediately began to
load them with abuse. "They even spat in our
faces," says M. B., "and pelted us with stone*
The children, too, copying their example, pinch-
ed us, pulled our hair, and scratched us with theii
nails, while their cruel mothers ordered them to
attack sometimes one and sometimes another, and
took pleasure in causing them to torment us."

They were compelled to work at the most fa-
tiguing and menial employments, and beaten with
severity when they did not exert themselves fax
beyond their strength, while they were denied a
single morsel of wholesome food. " As we were
Christians," says the narrator, " the dogs fared
better than we, and it was in the basins destined
for their use that we received our allowance: our
food was raw snails, and herbs and plants trodden
under foot by the multitude." In this manner
did these unfortunate travelers drag out the period
of their captivity; some died of the blows and
harsh treatment they received, and others died of
hun_;er and despair. M. Brisson one day found

INHUMANITY TOWARD TRAVELERS.

113

the captdin of the vessel in a neighboring hamlet,
stretched out lilelcss upon the sand, and scarcely
distinguisliable but by the color of his body, lu
his hioiUb he held one of iiis hands, vvbicli his
great weaknuss iiad no doubt prevented him from
devouring. He was so changed by liunger, that
his body exhibited the most disgusting appear-
once; all Ids features being absolutely .eft'uced. A
few days after, the second captain, luiving fallen
diwn through weakness below an old gum tree,
became a prey to the attacks of a monstrous
serpent. Some famished crows, by their cries,
frightened away the venomous animal, and, alight-
ing on the body of the dying man, were tearing
him to pieces, while four savage monsters, in hu-
man shape, still more cruel than the furious rep-
tile, beheld this scene without offering him the
least assistance. "I attempted to run toward
him," says M. Brisson, "and to save his life, if
possible, but the barbarians stopped me, and after
insulting me, said, 'This Christian' will soon be-
come a prey to the flames.' " The bad state of
health of fliis unfortunate man would not permit
liim to labor, and his master and mistress would
not allow him the milk necessary for his subsis-
tence.— Such were the sceues of inhumanity and
cruelty wiiich M. Brisson witnessed, during the
whole, period he remained in the territories of
tliese barbarous tribes. They present to our view
so many pictures of abominable selfishness and
even of pure malevolence. And it is a most me-
lancholy reflection, that numerous tribes of a simi-
lar description are spread over a very large por-
tion of the habitable world. It makes one feel
degraded when he reflects that he is related, by
the ties of a common nature, to beings possessing
a character so malignant and depraved.
• I shall select only another example, illustrative
«! this topic, extracted from the travels of Mr.
Park. This enterprising traveler prosecuted a
journey of many hundred miles in the interior
of Africa, for the most part on foot, and alone.
Sometimes, his way lay over a burning sandy
wilderness, where he found little to alleviate
either his hunger or his thirst; and sometimes he
traveled among woods and thickets, and across
rivers and m.arshes, exposed to the wild beasts,
and without any path to guide him. Though the
negroes of that country frequently relieved his
wants and distresses, yet the Moors used him
with great cruelty ami Inhumanity, so that he
hardly escaped with life. The chiefs through
whose territories he passed, generally exacted a
tribute from him, so long as he had anytliing to
give, and under that plea, they often robbed him
of all tho articles which he had it not in his power
to conceal. When he passed through the town
of Deena, the Moors insulted him in every form
which malignity could invent. A crowd of them
surrounded the hut in which he lodged, and, be-
side iiissing and shouting, uttered much abusive
iauguage. Their aim seemed to be to provoke
Park to make retaliation, that they might have
some pretense to proceed to greater outrages, and
to rob him of his property. Suspecting tiieir in-
tentions, he bore all with the greatest patience,
an:, though they even spat in his face, he showed
no marks of resentment.- Disappointed in their
aim, they had recourse to an argument common
among Mahometans, to convince themselves that
tliey had a right to whatever the stranger might
have in his possession. He was a Christian.
They opened his bundles, and took whatever
they thought might be of use, and whatever suit-
ed their fancy.
Having been kept for some time in captivity

by a Moorish tribe, they not only robbed him of
the few articles which were still iu his possession,
but insulted and oppressed him with tlie most
wanton cruelty. The day was passed in hunger
and thirst; to hunger and thirst were added the
malignant insults of tiie Moors, of whom many
visited liim, whose only business seemed to be to
torment him. He always saw the approach of
the evening with pleasure; it terminated anotiier
day of his miserable existence, and removed from
him his troublesome visitants. A scanty allow-
ance of kouskous,* and of suit and water, waa
brought him generally about midnight. Thia
scanty allowance was all that he and liis tv^'o at-
tendants were to expect during the whole of the
ensuing day. "I was a stranger," says he, " I
was unprotected, and I was a Ciiristian; each of
these circumstances is sufficient to drive every
spark of humanity from the heart of a Moor
Anxious,ho\vevt.-r, to conciliat" favor, and if possible,
to afford the Moors no pretense for ill-treating
me, I readily complied with every command, and
patiently bore every insult. But never did any
period of my life pass away so heavily. From
sunrise to sunset, was I obliged to bear, with an
unruffled countenance, the insults of the rudest
savages upon earth." Having, at length, made
his escape from these barbarians, he declares, "It
is impossible to describe the joy that arose iu my
mind, when I looked around, and concluded that
I was out of danger. I felt lilie one recovered
from sickness. I breathed freer; I found unusual
lightness in my limbs; even the desert looked
pleasant; and I dreaded nothing so much as fall-
ing in with some wandering parties of the Moors,
who might convey me back to the land of thieves
and murderers from which I had just escaped." —
Alas! what a load of sorrow and of misery have
the selfishness and inhumanity of man accumu-
lated upon the heads of forlorn and unfortunate
sufferers! While our disconsolate traveler, after
his escape, was wandering in an unknown desert,
fainting with hunger, and parched with thirst,
surrounded with pitchy darkness, which was only
relieved by the flashes of the lightnings; where
no sounds were heard but the bowlings of wild
beasts, and the rolling thunders: — "About two in
tiie morning," says he, "my horse started at
something, and, looking round, I was not a little
surprised to see a light, at a short distance among
tlie trees, and supposing it to be a town, I groped
along the sand, in hopes of finding corn stalks,
cotton, or other appearances of cultivation, but
found none. As I approached, I perceived a
number of lights in otlier places, and, leading my
horse cautiously toward the light, I heard, by the
lowing of the cattle, and the clamorous tongues
of the herdsmen, that it was a watering })lace,and
most likely belonged to the Jloors. Delightful as
the sound of the human voice was to me, I re-
solved once more to strike into tlie woods, and
rather run the risk of perishing with hunger, than
trust myself again into their hands." — It is a
most affecting consideration, and shows to what
a degree of malignity human beings have arrived,
when a hungry, houseless, and benighted traveler
prefers to flee for protection to the haunts of the
beasts of prej', rather than commit himself to the
tender mercies of those who are partakers of the
same common nature, and who have it in their
power to alleviate his distresses.

Mr. Park, when among the Moors, was forced
to pass many days, almost without drink, under a
burning climate, where, to a European, tne heat

* A species of food somewhat resembling Scotch porridg*.

114

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

Is almost insufferable. Ilis racing thirst induced
him to run every risk, and to burst through
evcrj' restraint. He sent liis boy to the wells to
'fill the skin which he had for liolding water; but
the Moors were exasporateJ that aChri?tiau should
presumti to fill his vessel at wells consecrated to
the use of the followers of Muhoniet. Instead,
therefore, of permitting the boy to carry away
water, they gave him many severe blows; and
this mode of treatment was repeated as often
as an attempt was made. — On another occasion,
when awaking from a dream, in which, during
his broken slumbers, his funcj^ liud transported
him to his native country, and placed him on the
verdant brink of a transparent rivulet, and per-
ceiving that his raging thirst had exposed him to
a kind, of fever, he resolved to expose himself to
the insults of the Moors at the wells, in hopes
that he might procure a small supply. When
he arrived at them he found the Maors drawing
water. He desired permission to drink, but was
driven from well to well with reiterated outrage.
At length he found one well where only an old
man and two boys drew for their cattle. He
earnestly begged a small quantity. The old man
drew the bucket from the well, and held it out.
Park v/as about eagerly to seize it, when the
Moor, recollecting that the stranger was a Chris-
tian, instantly threw the v.'ater into the trough,
where the cows were already drinking, and told
Park to drink thence. He hesiJated not for a
moment. His sufferings made even this offer
acceptable. He thrust his head between those of
two cows, and, with feelings of pleasure which
can be experienced only by those who have been
reduced to a similar state of wretchedness, he
continued to quench his thirst until the water was
exhausted, and "until the cows began to contend
with each other for the last. mouthful."

In this instance, we can partly account for the
baibarit}^ of the-action, from the inveterate preju-
dices vvliich all Mahometans entertain against
Christians; but it still remains to be accounted
for, why any one should refuse to a suffering fel-
low-creature the common bounties of Frovideuce,
which he has in his power to bestow, however
different he may be in complexion, in national
character, or in the religion ho professes. A
religion which encourages such prejudices, and
vvhicli leads to such inhumanity, must be an abo-
mination in the sig-ht of Him who has a special
regard to the wants of all !iis creatures, and who
"sendeth rain to refresh the fields of the just and
of the unjust.'" The prevalence of such charac-
ters and dispositions over so large a portion of the
world, shows that the moral constitution of man
has sutTered a sad derangement since the period
when he proceeded as a pure intelligence from
the hands of his Creator.

Such incidents as those to which I have now-
adverted, when properly considered, are calcu-
lated to inspire us with contentment, and to ex-
cite to gratitude for the common W-^ssings which
we enjoy without the least fear of danger or an-
noyance. How often do we enjoy the refresh-
ment of a delicious beverage, without thinking of
the parched tongues of the African pilgrims; and
how often do we spurn at a wiioiesome dish,
which would be hailed with transports of grati-
tude by the houseless and hungry wanderer of the
desert I Yea, how many arc there, even in our
civilized countr}% who enjoy, in luxurious abun-
dance, all the blessings which nature and art can
fwrnish. who n'r/er once acknowledge, with heart-
felt gratitude, the goodness cf Him " who daily
loads them with his benefits," nor reflect on the |

wants and the sufferings of their fellow-men !
Mr. Park, when op])ressed with hunger and fa-
tigue, applied, at the chief magi.-trate's house, in
a village named Shrilla, for some relief, but was
denied admittance. He passed slowly through the
village until he came without the wails, wliere ha
saw an old motherly-looking woman at the door
of a mean hut. She set before him a dish of
boiled corn, that had been left the preceding night,
on which l)e made a tolerable meal. "Overcome
with joy," says Park, "at so unexpected a deli-
verance, I lifted up my eyes to heaven, and, while
my heart swelled with gratitude, I returned thanks
to that gracious and bountiful Being, whose power
had supported me under so many dangers, and
had now sjiread for me a table in the wilderness."

When Mr. Park was returning from the interior
of Africa, he was encountered by a party of arm-
ed negroes, who led him into a dark place of the
forest through which he was passing, and stripped
him entirely naked, taking from him everything
which ho possessed, except an old shirt and a pair
of trowsers. He begged them to return his pocket
compass; but, instead of complying with his re-
quest, one of them assured him, that, if he at-
tempted to touch tliat, or any other article, he
would immediately shoot him dead on the spot.
He was thus left in the midst of a vast wilderness,
in the depth of the rainy season, naked and alone,
without food, and without the means of procuring
it; surrounded by savage animals, and by men
still more savage, and 500 miles from the nearest
European settlement. "All these circumstances,"
says this intrepid traveler, " crowded at once on
my recollection, and, I confess, my spirits began
to fail me. I considered that I had no ether alter-
native, but to lie down and die. The influence
of religion, however, aided and supported me.
At' this moment, painful as my reflections were,
the extraordinary beauty of a small moss irresis-
tibly caught my eye. Can that Being, thought I,
who planted, watered, and brought to perfection,
in this obscure part of the world, a thing which
appears of so small importance, look with uncon-
cern on the situation and sufferings of creatures
formed after his own image? Surely not. Keflec-
tions like these would not allow me to despair. I
started up, and, disregarding both hunger and fa-
tigue, traveled forward, assured that relief was at
hand, and- 1 was not disappointed." Thus was this
unfortunate adventurer delivered, by the care of
Providence, from those accumulated distresses
which had been brought upon hiin by the malig-
nity and inhumanity of man.

Such are a few specimens of the inhumanity
displaj-ed by uncivilized tribes toward strangers,
and unfortunate voyagers and travelers. They
exhibit dispositions and conduct directly repug-
nant to every principle of benevolence, and pre-
sent to our view a gloomy prospect of the difiicul-
tiesand dangers to be surmounted by philanthropic
missionaries, before the habitable world can be
thoroughly explored, and before the blessings of
knowledge, civilization, and religion can be com-
municated to the benighted and depraved tribes
of mankind.

MALEVOLENT DISPOSITIONS, AS DISPLAYED IN DISFI-
GURING THE HUMAN EODV.

The human frame, when preserved in its origi-
nal state, is one of the finest pieces of mechanism
which the mind can contemplate. In beauty, in
symmetry, in the harmony and proportion of all
its parts and functions, it is superior to the organ-
ical structures of all the other ranks of sensiliv«

DISFIGURING OF THE HUMAN BODY.

115

existence. There is no part imperfect or deform-
■ju, no part dclective, and no part useless or re-
uuudaut. All its members are so constructed and
■ jianged as to contribute to tlie beauty and per-
lection of tlie whole, and to the happiness of the
intelligent mind by which it is governed and di-
recteu. In combination with the power of thought
and volition, and when unstained by malignant
pasiioiij, it is a vi.iible representative of the Crea-
tor, having been formeii after his image; and it
displays, in a most striking manner, the wisdom
and the goodness of its xUniighty Maker. But,
nolwilastanding the acknowledged excellence of
tiie human frame, it has been the practice of the
degraded tribes of mankind, in almost every coun-
try, and in every age, to disfigure its structure,
and to deface its beauty; as if the Creator, when
he formed it, had been deficient in intelligence
and in benevolent design. Such practices, I am
disposed to think, imply a principle of malevo-
lence directed toward the Creator, and a disposi-
tiiin to iiud fault with his wise contrivances and
arrangements. At any rate, they display a degree
of ignorance and folly, a vitiated taste, and a
uegrauation of mind, inconsistent with the dig-
nity of a rational intelligence. The following
facts will, perhaps, tend to illustrate these re-
m^uks: —

Condamine, when describing the natives of
South America, informs us, that the Omaguas,
and some other savages, flatten the faces of their
children, by lacing their heads between two
boards ; that others pierce the nostrils, lips, or
checks, and place in them feathers, the bones of
fisJics, and similar ornaments; — and that the sa-
vages of Brazil pull tiie hair out of their boards,
their eye-brows, and all parts of their bodies,
which makes them have an uncommon, and a
fetocious appearance. Their undor-lip they
pierce, and, as an ornament, insert into it a
green stone, or a small polished bono. Immedi-
ately after birth the mothers flatten the noses of
their children. The whole of them go absolutely
naked, and paint their bodies of different colors. —
Captain Cook informs us, that, in New Zea'and,
botJi sexes mark their faces and bodies with black
stains, similar to the tattooing in Otaheite. The
inen, particularly, add new stains every year, so
that, in an advanced period of life, they are almost j
covered from head to foot. Beside this, they have
marks impressed, by a method unknown to us,
of a very extraordinary kind. They are furrows
of about a line deep, and a line broad, such as
aj)pear upon the bark of a tree which has been
cut through after a year's growth. The edges of
these furrows are afterward indented by the same
method, and, being perfectly black, they make a
most frightful appearance. Both sexes bore their
ears: they gradually stretch the holes until they
are so large as to admit a finger. Into these holes
they put feathers, colored cloth, bones of birds,
twigs of wood, and frequently the nails which
they received from the ships. — The same voyager,
when describing the New Hollanders, tells us, —
" Their chief ornament is a bone, which is thrust
through a hole bored in the cartilage which di-
vides the nostrils. Tliis bone is as thick as a
man's finger, and six inches in length. It reaches
quite across the face, and so effectually stops up
both nostrils, that they are forced to keep their
mouths wide open for breath, and snuflle so when
they attempt to speak, that they are scarcely in-
telligible to each other. Our seamen with some
humor, called it their sprit-sail yard; and indeed
it had so ludicrous an appearance, tliat, until we
were used to it, we found it dilBcuIt to restrain

Vol. I.— 24

from laughter." He also describes a custom of a
peculiar nature which prevails in the Friiindly
Islands. "The greater part of the inhabitants,
both male and female, were observed to have lost
one or both of their little fingers. This custom
seemed not to be characteristic of rank, of age, or
of sex; for, with the exception of some young
children, very few people were discovered in
whom both hands were perfect. They likewise
burn or make incisions in their cheeks."

All the eastern nations are said to have a predi-
lection for long ears. Some draw the lobe of the
ear, in order to slretcli it to a greater length, and
pierce it so as to allow the admission of an ordi-
nary pendant. The natives of Laos so prodi-
giously widen the holes in their ears, that a man's
hand may be thrust through them. Hence, the
ears of the.se people often descend to the tops of
their shoulders.* Gentil assures us, that the wo-
men, in the northern parts of China, employ
every art in order to diniinish their eyes. For
tills purpose, tlie girls, instructed by their mothers,
extend their eye-lids continually, with the view
of making their eyes oblong and small. These
properties, in the estimation of the Chinese, when
joined to a flat nose, and large, open, pendulous
ears, constitute the perfection of beauty. — ^Weare
informed by Struys, that the women of Siam
wear so large and heavy pendants in their ears,
that the holes gradually become wide enough to
admit a man's thumb. The natives of New Hol-
land pull out the two fore-teeth of the upper jaw.
In Calicut, there is a band of nobles called Naircs,
who lengthen their ears to such a degree, that
they hang down to their shoulders, and sometiraea
even lower.f The Arabs paint their lips, arris,
and the most conspicuoua parts of their I odies,
with a deep blue color. This paint, which they
lay on in little dots, and make it penetrate the
flesh, by puncturing the skin with needles, can
never be effaced. Some of the Asiatics paint
their eye-brows of a black color, and others eradi-
cate the hairs with rusma, and paint artificial eye-
brows, in the form of a black crescent, which
gives them an uncommon and ugly appearance.
Tlie inhabitants of Prince William's Sound, paint
their faces and hands, bore their ears and noses,
and slit their under lips. In the holes made iu
their noses, they hang pieces of bone or ivory,
which are often two or three inches long; and,
in the slit of the lip, they place a bone or ivory
instrument with holes in it, from which they sus-
pend beads that reach below the chin. These
holes in the lip disfigure them greatly, for some
of them are as large as their mouths.t

Such distortions of the beautiful structure of
the human frame, are not peculiar to the savage
tribes of the human race, but are practiced by na-
tions which have made considerable advances in
science and civilization. It is well known that,
in China, a ridiculous custom prevails, of render-
ing the feet of their females so small that they
can with difficulty support their bodies. This is
deemed a principal part of their beauty; and no
swathing nor compression is omitted, when they
are young, to give them this fancied accomplish-
ment Every woman of fashion, and every wo-
man who wishes to be reckoned handsome, roust
have her feet so small, that they could easily en-
ter the shoe of a child of six years of age. Th«
great toe is the only one left to act with freedom;
the rest are doubled down under the foot, in their
tenderest infancy, and restrained by tight band'

• Smellie's Philosophy of Natnral History, vol. IL
t Ibid, t Portlock's Voyage round the World.

116

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

ages, until they unite with, and are buried in the
sole. I have inspected a model of a Chinese
lady's foot, exactly of this description, which, I
was assured, was taken from life. The length
was only two inches and three-fourths; the
breadth of the base of the heel, scveu-eightiis of
an inch; the breadth of the broadest part of the
foot, one and one-fourth of an inch; and the di-
ameter of the ankle, three inches above the heel,
one and seven-eigiiths of an inch. With feet of
this description the Chinese ladies may be said
rather to totter than to walk; and, by such prac-
tices, they evidently frustrate the beuevolent in-
tentions of the Creator, and put themselves to
unnecessary inconvenience and pain. Yet such
is the powerful influence of fashion, however ab-
surd and ridiculous, that women of tiie middling
and inferior classes frequently suffer their feet to
be thus maimed and distorted, in order to ape the
unnatural customs of their superiors.

We have every reason to believe that the harsh
and ugly features, and the ferocious aspect, by
which numerous tribes of mankind are distin-
guished, are owing to such voluntary distortions
of the human frame, and to the filthy and abom-
inable practices in which they indulge. Father
Tertre assures us, that the flat noses of the ne-
groes are occasioned by a general practice of mo-
thers, who depress the noses of their new-born
infants, and squeeze their lips, in order to thicken
them; and that those children who escape these
operations have elevated noses, thin lips, and fine
features. — It is somewhat unaccountable, and it
shows the perversity of the human mind, in its
present degraded state, that such practices should
be so general, and so obstinately persisted in,
when we consider the pain and inconvenience
with which they are attended. — To pull the hairs
of the chin or eye-brbws from tlie roots; to slii
the under lip, until the incision be as large as one's
mouth; to pierce the nostrils, until a bone as
large as a man's finger can be thrust through
them; and to cover the body with black streaks,
which make the blood to flow at every stroke of
the instrument by which tlicy are produced, must
be attended with excruciating pain. Sir Joseph
Banks, who accompanied Captain Cook in his
first voj'age, was present, in the island of Ota-
heite, at the operation of tattooing, performed on
the back of a girl of thirteen years of age. The
instrument used had twenty teeth; and at each
stroke, which was repeated every moment, issued
an ichor or serum, tinged with blood. The girl
bore the pain with great resolution, for some mi-
nutes, until, at length, it became so intolerable,
that she burst out into violent exclamations; but
the operator, notwithstanding the most earnest
entreaties to desist, was inexorable, while two wo-
men, who attended upon the occasion, both chid
and beat her for struggling.

I am therefore disposed to view such absurd
and barbarous practices, as intiraatelj' connected
with the operation of a principle of malevolence,
as an attempt to frustrate the wise designs of di-
vine benevolence, and as directly repugnant to the
spirit of Christianity, and to the benevolent pre-
cepts of the gospel of peace. And it becomes
some of the ladies, and the dandies of modern
Euroi)e to consider, whether some of their awk-
ward attempts to improve the' symmetry of the
human frame ought not to be viewed in the same
light. Not many years ago, it was considered.
In the higher circles of society, as an admirable
improvement of the female form, to give the lower
half of the body the appearance of the frustum
of a large tun, as if it had been ten times the ca-

pacity of its natural size, by supporting their robe*
with enormous hoops; — and, about the same pe-
riod, the lower ranks of female society considered
it as the perfection of proportion and beauty, t*
have their waists compressed into the smalleal
possible space, until the vital functions, in mauy
instances, were deranged, and ultimately destroy*
ed. Were the dictates of sound reason univer*
sally attended to, and were the influence of Chris-
tianity fully felt among all Jiations, the prepos-
terous and savage practices to which I have now
adverted, would not only be discontiuued, but held
in abhorrence. And were such customs com-
pletely abolished, we might soon expect to behold,
among all tlie tribes of mankind, every distortion
of the features or the countenance removed, ana
the human form restored to its original beauty
and perfection. Instead of a warlike visage, and
a ferocious aspect, and the frightful appearance
of naked savages, streaked with colors of black
and blue, we should behold, in every land, everj
countenance beaming with the radiations of be-
nevolence, and reflecting the moral image of tlw
Creator.

Malevolence as it appears in the religion oi

SAVAGE TRIBES.

There is scarcely a nation on the surface of th«
globe but what appears to have some impressioiu
of the existence of a Superior Power, and to have
formed a system of religious worship. But, it ii
a striking fact, that, among the greater portion of
human beings, their religious notions, and theij
sacred rites, instead of breathing a spirit of kind-
ness and benevolence toward their fellow-crea-
tures, are blended with a principle of hatred and
revenge. This might be illustrated by an induc-
tion, of a great variety of instances, in reference
to almost every uncivilized portion of the human
race. I shall content myself, however, with stat-
ing only one instance, in reference to the Nesserie,
a tribe not much known in Europe, and which
ma}' serve as an example of many others.

The territory of this people extends from An-
tiocli nearly to Tripoli. They occupy almost all
the mountains to the east of Latakia, and a great
part of the plain. Among them is perceived a
mixture of the religious usages of Paganism, of
the Jewish law, of that of Mahomet and Ali, and
of some dogmas of the Christian Religion. — The
women are considered as a part of the domestic
animals of the house, and treated as slaves. —
They have no idea of religion, and when they
are bold enough to inquire of their masters con-
cerning it, the latter answer them that their reli-
gion is, to be charged with the reproduction of
the species, and to be subject to the will of their
husbands. — The Nesserie say their prayers at
midnight, and before sunset. They may say
them either sitting, standing, or walking; but
they are obliged to begin again repeating their
ablution, if they speak to a person not of their
religion, — if they perceive, either near or at a
distance, a camel, a pig, a hare, or a negro. In
their prayers, they curse the man who shaves be-
low the chin, him who is impotent, and the two
Caliphs, Omar and Abou-Bekr. They detest the
Turks, to whom they are sworn enemies. This
warlike people of mountaineers would be strong
enough to shake off the yoke of the Turks, and
live independently, if they were not divided by
interested motives, almost all occasioned by im-
placable f miily hatreds. They are vindictive, and
cherish their rancor for a length of time: even
the death of tlie guilty person cannot assuage

MORAL STATE OF CIVILIZED NATIONS.

117

v.ieir fury; their vengeance is incomplete, if it
does not falJ beside on one or sevenil members
of his family. Tliey are so obstinately supersti-
tious in their attachment to their peculiar system,
that no threats nor punishments can extort from
them he secrets of tiieir religion.*

Here, then, we are presented with a system of
religion which appears to be founded on malevo-
lence,— which directs its devotees to curse their
fellow-mcn — which leads them to keep their wo-
men in profound ignorance of everything which
they hold sacred — which induces tliem to conceal
its mysteries from all tlie rest of the world — and
which, in so far from producing iiny beneficial ef-
fects on their own conduct, leads to " implacable
family hatreds." A religion, unless it be founded
on a principle of benevolence, is unworthy of the
name; it must be an abhorrence in the sight of
God, and can never communicate happiness to
man. And were we to examine the various reli-
gious systems wliich prevail in the numerous
islands of tlie Indian and Pacific Oceans, in Ca-
bul, Thibet, and Hindostan, and among the un-
civilized tribes which are scattered over a large
portion of Asia and of Africa, we should find
them, not only blended with malevolent prin-
ciples and maxims, but sanctioning the perpe-
tration of deeds of cruelty, obscenity, and hor-
ror.

In the preceding pages, I have endeavored to
illustrate some of the prominent features in the
moral character of tlie savage and uncivilized
tribes of the human race. The examples I have
selected have not beeu taken from the records
of missionaries, or of professed religionists, who
might be suspected by some to give an exagge-
rated description of the depravitj^ of the Pagan
world — but from the unvarnished statements of
respectable voyagers and travelers, who could
have no motive for misrepresenting the facts
which they have recorded. These illustrations
might have been extended to a much greater
length, had it been consistent with the limited
nature of the present work. Instead of occupy-
ing only forty or fifty pages, they might have
been extended so as to have filled as uaany vo-
lumes; for every book of travels, as well as every
liistorical document, contains a-rncord of the ope-
rations of malignity, and of the diversincd modes
in which human depravity is displayed. The
dispositions which I have illustrated, it will be
readily admitted, are all of a malignant cliaracter,
directlvi repugnant to that benevolent principle
which forms the basis of the moral laws of the
universe. And when we consider, that such ma-
levolent dispositions are dis])!ayed by a mass of
human beings, amounting to more than three-
fourths of the population of the globe, and that
true happiness cannot be experienced where ma-
lignant passions reign uncontrolled, a benevolent
mind cannot refrain from indulging a thousand
melancholy reflections, when it casts its eye over
the desolations of the moral world, and from
forming an anxious wish, that the period may
soon arrive, when the darkness which covers the
nations shall be dispelled, and when benevolence
and peace shall reign triumphant over all the
eiirth.

I shall now endeavor to present a few facts and
»ketches which may have a tendency to illustrate
the present state, and the moral character and
jspect of the cioilized world.

* See Dnpont's " Memoirs of the Manners and Religious
Ceremonies of the Nesserie," a work lately published.

SECTION IIL
Moral state of civilized nations.

The present population of the globe may be es-
timated at about 800 millions. Of these, if we
except the empires of China and Hindostan, we
cannot reckon above 180 millions as existing in
a state of enlightened civilization ; a number
which is less than the fourth part of the human
race. Were even this small portion of mankind
uniformly distinguished for intelligence, and for
the practice of benevolence, it would form a glo-
rious picture for the philanthropist to contem-
plate ; and would be a sure prelude of the near
apjiroach of that happy period, when "all the ends
of the earth shall remember and turn to the Lord,
when all the kindreds of the nations shall do homage
unto him, and when there shall be nothing to
hurt nor destroy" among all the families of man
kind. But alas! when we investigate the moral
state even of this portion of human beings, we find
the principle of malignity distinctly visible in its
operations, and interwoven, in numerous and mi
nute ramifications, through all the ranks and gra-
dations of society. Though its shades are less
dark and gloomy, they are no less real than among
the hordes of Africa and Tartary, and the other
abodes of savage life. To illustrate this position
is the object of the following sketches ; in which
I shall chiefly refer to the state of society among
the nations of Europe, and the United States of
America, and particularly to the moral character
and aspect of the British empire.

I shall, in the first place, consider the operation
of the malevolent principle as it appears in the
actions and dispositions of the young, and in the
modes of tuition by which they are trained.

In many thousands of instances, it may be ob-
served, that, even before a child has been weaned
from its mother's breasts, malignant dispositions
are not only fostered, but are regularly taught
both by precept and example. Does a child hap-
pen to hit its head accident;dly against the corner
of a table — it is taught by its nurse, and even by
its mother, to avenge the injury on the inanimate
object which caused it, and to exhibit its prowess
and its revenge by beating the table with all its
might. Does it cry, through peevishness or pain
— it is iniTnediately threatened with being thrown
into the ditch, tossed out of the window, or com-
mitted to t!ie charge of some frightful specter. Is
it expedient to repress its murmurings, and to ca-
jole it into obedience — it is then inspired with
fallacious hopes, and allured with deceitful prom-
ises of objects and of pleasures which are never-
intended to be realized. Does it require to have
its physical powers exercised — a wooden sword or a
whip is put into its hands ; and it is encouraged to
display its energies in inflicting strokes on a dog,
a cat, or any of its play- fellows or companions.
I have seen a little nrcliin of this description, three
or four years of age, brandishing its wooden sword
with all the ardor of a warrior, and repeating its
strokes on every person around, while the fool'sh
parents were exulting in the prowess displayed by
their little darling, and encouraging it in all its
movements. By these and similar practices, re-
venge, falsehood, superstition, and the elements of
war, are fostered in the youthful mind; and is it to
be wondered at, that such malignant principles and
passions should "grow with their growth, and
strengthen with their strength," until they burs*
forth in all those hideous forms which they as-
sume amidst the contests of communities and of
nations ? — The false maxims by which children
are frequently trained under the domestic roof,

118

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

and the foolish indnlgcnce with which tlicy are
ireatod by injudicious parents, iu too many in-
stances lay the foundation of those petulant and
malignant tempers, which arc a pi'st both to
Cln-islian and to general society. Indulgence
often loads to an opposite extreme ; and produces
such a degree of insubordination among the
young, that nothing is to be seen and heard but a
perpetual round of scolding and beating, and the
contest of angrj' passions. " Among the lower
ranks of people," says Dr. Witherspoon, " who
are under no restraint from decency, you may
sometimes see a father or mother running out into
the street, after a child who has fled from tlicni,
with looks of fury and words of execration, and
they iire often stupid enough to imagine that
neighbors or passengers will approve them in this
conduct." Wherever parental authority is thus
undermined, and such conduct uniformly pursued,
a sure foundation is laid for an extensive display,
in after life, of the malignant passions of the hu-
man heart.

If we follow our youth from the nursery to the
school-room, we shall find the same malevolent af-
fections developing themselves on a larger scale,
and indirectly cherished, by the books they read,
the discipline by which they are trained, and the
amusements in which they indulge. Here we
may behold one little fellow taking a malicious
pleasure in pinching his neighbor, another in
kicking him, a thinl in boxing him, a fourth in
tearing his book, a fifth in pilfering his property,
and a sixth in endeavoring to hold him up to scorn
and ridicule ; and all of them combined to frus-
trate, if possible, the exertions of their teacher, and
to prevent their own improvement. — If we look
into the majority of the hooks which are read in
echoo!?; we shull find them full of encomiums
upon u'ar, and upon warriors. The Cffisars, the
Alexanders, and the Bonapartes, whose restless
ambition has transformed the earth into scenes of
desolation and carnage, are represented as patterns
of everything that is brave, noble, generous,, and
heroic. The descriptive powers of the poet are
also called in, iu order to inflame the j-outhful
mind with warlike dispositions, and to excite an ar-
dent dssire for mingling in scenes of contention,
and for the acquisition of false glory and of milita-
ry renown. Hence, there is no part of their school
exercises in which the young so much delight,
and in which they so much excel, as in that
in which they are called upon to recite such
speeches as 'SSemprouius's speech for war," or to
ape the revengeful encounter of Non^al and Gle-
halvon. While the spirit of war is thus virtually
cherished, the counteraction of vicious propensi-
ties, and the cultivation of the moral powers of
the young, are considered as a matter of inferior im-
portance, and, in many seminaries of instruction,
are altogether overlooked. Many of the school
collections to which I allude — instead of exhibiting,
in simple language, the beauties and sublimities
of the works of nature, the displays of the natural
and moral character of the Deity, the facts of Sa-
cred History, the morality of the Gospel, the
scenes of rural and domestic life, and the opera-
tions of philanthropy — are filled with extracts
from metaphysical writers, from parliamentary
debates, and from old plays, novels, and farces,
which are frequently interlarded with oaths, ob-
scenity, and the slang of Billingsgate, which can
have no other tendency than to pollute and de-
moralize the youthful mind. It needs, therefore,
excite no surprise, that the great body of mankind
is still so deficient in rational information and
•ubstanlial knowledge, and that a warlike spirit

)aleful iimuence among

from the school-room, 1
le streets and the h'vzh- \

is afloat, and exerting its baleful iiifluence among
tho nations.

If we follow the young
to the play-yround, or to the

ways, we shall find the spirit of malignity display-
ing itself in a vast diversity of forms, ihre, we
may behold one mischievous little boy slap])ing
his neighbor iii the face, another tearing his
neighbor's clothes, another tossing his cap into a
dirty ditch, another chalking his back in order to
hold him up to ridicule, and another pouring ou-
upon him a torrent of nicknames, and of scurril-
ous epithets. I'htre, we may behold a crowd of
boys pelting a poor beggar or an unfortunate ma-
niac with stones and dirt for their diversion ; mock-
ing the lame, the deformed, and the aged, and insult,
ing the passing traveler. And, when such objects
do not happen to occur, we may see them assailing,
with a shower of stones, a cat, a dog, a hare, or a
fowl, that happens to cross the path, and enjoying a
diabolical pleasure in witnessing the sufferings of
these unfortunate animals. Here, we may behold
an insolent boy insulting a timid girl, overturning
her pitcher, and besmearing her with mire; — there
v.'s behold another saluting his fellow with a ma-
lignant scowl, and a third brandishing his whip,
and lashing a horse or a cow, for his amusements
On the one hand, we may sometimes behold a )"ing
of boys, in the center of which two little demons
are engaged in mutual combat, with eyes glaring
with fury and revenge, exerting their physical
powers to the utmost stretch, in order to wound
and lacerate, and cover with blood and gore, the
faces of each other : on the other hand, we may
behold an unfortunate boy, whom a natural tem-
perament, or a virtuous principle, prevents from
engaging in similar combats, assailed with oppro-
brious epithets, and made a laughing-stock, and
an object of derision and scorn, because he will
not be persuaded to declare war against his neigh-
bor. And, what is still more atrocious and dis-
gusting, we may behold chihlrcn of thirty or forty
years of age, encouraging such malevolent dispo-
sitions, and stimulating such combatants in their
diabolical exertions !* Such infernal practices,
among creatures originally formed after the divine
image, if they were not so common, would be

* The practice of boxing, among boys, which so generally
prevails, especially in England, is a disgrace to the boasted
civilization and Christianity of that country, and to the su-
perintendents of its public seminaries. That pugilistic con-
tests between g^rovvn-up savages in acivilized shape, should be
publicly advertised, and described in our newspapers, and
the arena of such contests resorted to by so many thousands
of the middling and liigher classes of society, is a striking
proof that the spirit of folly and of maliimity still pievails to
a great extent, and that the spirit of Christianity has made
little progress, even within the limits of the British empire.
— The following late occurrence shows the fatal effects with
which such practices are sometimes attended. " On Mon-
day. February 2S, 1825, two of the scholars at Eton, the Hon.
F. A. Cooper, the son of the Earl of Shaftesbury, and Mr.
Wood, the son of Colonel Wood, and nephew 1o the Marquis
of Londonderry, in consequence of a very warm altercation
on the play-ground, on the preceding day, met, for the pur-
pose of settling the unhappy quarrel by a pugilistic encounter
— a preralent practice at Eton and all cur public schools.
Almost the whole school assembled to witness the spectacle.
The inexperienced youth commenced fighting at four o'clock,
and partly by their own energy, and partly by the criminal
excitement of others,continued the fatal contest until within a
little of six, when, mournful to relate, the Earl of Shaftesbu-
ry's son felt very heavily upon his head, and nevnr spjk«
afterward. He was carried off to his lodgings, where ha
expired in a few hours. On the coroner's inquest it cam*
out, that brpn<ly had been administered very freely, and that
no decisive effort had been made to discontinue a contest
prolonged beyond all due limits. — About forty years ago a
similar cause led to a similar result at the same establisb.
ment. The survivor is a clergyman of great respectability."
— f?ce Public Prints for Feb., and Evan. Mag. for April,
IfcSo.

MORAL STATE OF CIVILIZED NATIONS.

119

viewed by every one in whose breast the least
spark of virtue resides, with feelings of indigna-
tion and horror.

Tlie greut body of our youth, habituated to
Buch dispositions and practices, after having left
sdiool at the age of fourteen or fifteen — a period
when headstrong passions and vicious propensi-
ties begin to operate with still greater violence —
huve access to no other seminaries, in which their
lawless passions, may be counteracted and con-
trolled, and in wiiich they may be carried for-
ward in the path of moral and intellectual im-
provement. Throughout the whole of the civi-
lized world, I am not aware that there exist any
regular institutions exclusively appropriated for
the instruction of young persons, from the age of
fifteen to tlie age of twenty-five or upward, on
moral, religious, and scientific subjectsj in order
to expand their intellectual capacities, and to
direct their moral powers in the path of universal
benevolence. Yet, without such institutions, all
the knowledge and instructions they may have
previously acquired, in the great majority of in
stances, are rendered almost useless and inefiicient
for promoting the great end of their existence.
From the age of fifteen to the age of twenty-five,
is the most important period of human life; and,
for want of proper instruclion and direction,
during this period, and of rational objects to em-
ploy Uie attention at leisure hours, many a hope-
ful young man has been left to glide insensibly
Into the mire of vice and corruption, and to
become a pest to his friends, and to general
Bociety. Our streets and highways are infested,
and our jails and bridewells filled with young
persons of tliis age, who, by means of rational
and religious training, might have been rendered
& comfort to their friends, blessings to society,
and ornaments of the Christian Church.

It would be inconsistent with the limited plan
of this work, to attempt to trace the principle of
malignity through all the scenes of social, com-
mercial, and domestic life. Were I to enter into
details of filial impiety, ingratitude, and rebel-
lion— of faithless friendships — of the alienations
of affection, and of the unnatural contentions
between brothers and sisters — of the abominable
selfishness which appears in the general conduct
and transactions of mankind — of the bitterness,
the fraud, and the perjury, with which lawsuits
are commenced and prosecuted — of the hatred,
malice, and resentment, manifested for injuries
real or supposed — of the frauds daily committed
in every (iepartment of the commercial world —
of the shufflings and base deceptions which are
practiced in cases of bankruptcy — of the slan-
ders, the caballing, and the falsehood, which
attend electioneering contests — of the envy, mal-
ice, and resentment displayed between competitors
for ofiice and power — of the haughtiness and
insolence displayed by petty tyrants both in
church and state— of the selfishness and injustice
of corporate bodies, and the little regard they
show for the interests of those who are oppressed,
and deprived of their rewards — of the gluttony,
drunkenness, and prodigality, which so generally
prevail — of the brawlings, fightings, and conten-
tious, which are daily presented to the view in
tiV iT.s, ale-houses, and dram-shops, and the low
slaig and vulgar abuse with which such scenes
are intermingled — of the seductions accomplished
by insidious artfulness and outrageous perjury —
of the multiplied falsehoods of all descriptions
wiiich are uttered in courts, in camps, and in
private dwellings — of the unblushing lies of pub-
lic newspapers, and the perjuries of office — of

the systematic frauds and robberies by which a
largo portion of the community are cheated out
of their property and thoir rights — of the pride,
haughtiness, and oppression of the rich, and of
the malice, envy, and discontentment of tho
poor — such pictures of malignity might be pre-
sented to the view, as would fill tlie mind of the
reader with astonishment and horror, and which
would require a series of volumes to record the
revolting details.

There is one very general characteristic of
civilized, and even of Christian society, that
bears the stamp of malignity, which may particu- •
larlj' be noticed; and that is, the pleasure with
which men expatiate on the faults and delinquen-
cies of their neighbors, and the eagerness with
which they circulate scandalous reports throuorh
every portion of the community. Almost the
one half of the conversation of civilized men,
when strictly analyzed, will be found to consist
of malignant insinuations, and of tales of scanT-
dal and detraction, the one half of which is desti-
tute of any solid foundation. How comes it to
pass, that the slightest deviation from propriety or
rectitude, in the case of one of a generally re-
spectable character, is dwelt upon with a fiend-
like pleasure", and aggravated beyond measure,
while all his good qualities are overlooked and
thrown completely into the shade? What is the
reason why we are not as anxious to bring for-
ward the good qualities and actions of our fellow-
men, and to bestow upon them their due tribute
of praise, as we are to blaze abroad their errors
and infirmities? How often does it happen, that
a single evil action committed by an individual,
contrary to the general tenor of his life, will be
trumpeted about by the tongue of malice, even
to the end of his life, while all his virtuous deeds
and praiseworthy actions will be overlooked and
forgotten, and attempted to be buried in oblivionl
If benevolence were the prevailing characteristic
of mankind, such dispositions would seldom be
displayed in the intercourses of human beings.
If benevolence pervaded every heart, we would
rejoice to expatiate on the excellencies of others; —
these would form the chief topics of conversation
in our personal remarks on others; we would en-
deavor to throw a vail oyer the infirmities of our
brctliren, and would be always disposed to exer-
cise that candor and charity "which covers a
multitude of sins."

If we now turn our eyes for a moment, to the
amusements of civilized society, we shall find
many of them distinguished by a malignant cha-
racter and tendency. What an appropriate exhi-
bition for rational and immortal beings do the
scenes of a cockpit display I to behold a motley
group of bipeds, of all sorts and sizes, from the
peer to the chimney-sweep, and from the man of
hoary hairs to the lisping infant, betting, bluster-
ing, sv,'earing, and feasting their eyes with a
savage delight on the sufferings of their fellow-
bipeds, whom they have taught to wound, to tor-
ment, and to destroy each other! There is
scarcely anything that appears so congenial to
the spirit which per^'ades the infernal regions, as
the attempt to inspire the lower animals with the
same malignant dispositions which characterize
the most degraded of the human species. That
such a cruel and disgusting practice still prevails
in England, and that it formed, until lately, a part
of the amusements of almost all the schools ia
Scotland, is a reproach to the civilization, the
humanity, and the Christianity of our country.
And what a fine spectacle to a humane and civili-
zed mind ia the amusement of bull-baiting! au

120

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

amusement in whicli the strcngtli and courage of
tliis animal are made the means of torturing hiui
with the most exquisile agonies! Can benevo-
lence, can even the common feelings of humanity,
reside in the breast of tiiat man who can find en-
joyment in encouraging and in witnessing such
barbarous sports? And what a dignified amuse-
ment is the horse-race! where crowds of the
nobility, gentry, and of the most polished classes
of society, as well as the ignoble rabble, assemble j
from all quarters, to behold two noble animals
panting, and lieaving, and endeavoring to outstrip
each otlier on tiie course! What a scene of bul-
lying, and jockeying, and belting, and cheating,
and cursing, and swearing, and fighting, is gene-
rally presented on such occasions! Wliat a won-
derful degree of importance is attached, by the
most dignified rank of society, to the issue of the
race; as if the fate of an empire, or the salvation
of an immortal spirit, were depending on the
circumstance of one horse getting the start of
another! I do not mean to decry, indiscrimi-
nately, public amusements; nor to call in ques-
tion the propriety of improving the locomotive
powers of the horse; but, surely, it would require
no great stretch of invention, to devise spectacles
and entertainments, mucii more dignified and
congenial to the noble powers, and to the high
destination of the human miad, and which might
be exhibited with as little expense either of time
or of money.

And what sliall we say of lion JigJits, and dog
fights, and boxing matches between animals in the
shape of men, which have been lately advertised
in the public prints with so much impudence and
effrontery? Are the patrons of such revolting
exhibitions, and the crowds which resort to them,
to be considered as patterns of taste, of humanity,
and of refined benevolence? And what shall we
think of the amusements of one half of our
gentry, country squires, gentlemen farmers, and
the whole tribe of the sporting community, who
derive more exquisite enjoyment in maiming a
hare, a partridge, or a moorfowl, than in reliev-
ing the wants of the friendless poor, in meliora-
ting the condition of their' dependents, or in
patronizing the diffusion of useful knowledge?
If one of our best moral poets declared, that " he
would not enter, on bis list of friends, though
graced with polished manners and fine sense, the
mau who needlessly sets foot upon a worm,"
what would be his estimate of the man who
derived one of his chief gratifications, day after
day, from making havoc among the feathered
tribes, and from lacerating and maiming a timid
hare, for the sole purpose of indulging a sporting
humor, and proving himself an excellent marks-
man? Can we suppose that the benevolent Crea-
tor so curiously organized the beasts of the earth
and the fowls of heaven, and endowed them with
exquisite feelings and sensibility, merely that
tyrannical mau might torture and destroy them
for his amusement? For the persons to whom I
allude cannot plead necessity for such conduct, as
if they were dependent for subsistence en their
carcasses. Such is still the mania for these cruel
arguments, that the butchery of the brutal and
the winged tribes, it is likely, will soon be reduced
to a regular system, and enrolled among the num-
ber of the fine arts. For, an octavo volume, of
470 pages, which has already passed through
three editions, has been lately published, entitled,
" Instructions to young Sportsmen in all that re-
lates to Game and Shooting:" bj' Lieut. Colonel
Hawker. The author, after having stated that he
has now lost his eyes and nerves for a good shot,

says, " The greatest pleasure that can possibly
remain for me, is to resign the little I have learn-
ed for the benefit of young sportsmen. The
rising generation of shooters might otherw ise bo
left for many years, to find out all these little
matters." And a most important loss, doubtless,
the rising generation would have sustained, had
not the worthy Colonel condesconded to commu-
nicate his discoveries! I was lately making an
excursion in a steamboat, through one of the
Scottish lakes. Among the passengers were
several of the sporting gentry, furnished with all
their requisite accouterments, who seemed to en-
joy a higher gratification in disturbing the happi-
ness of the feathered tribes, than in contemplating
the natural beauties of the surrounding scene.
When any of these hapless animals appeared in
view, a hue and cry commenced, a shot was pie-
pared, and a nmsket leveled at the unoffendi.'ig
creatures, which created among them universal
agitation and alarm. Some of them were killed;
and others, doubtless, maimed, and rendered mise-
rable for life; while no human being could enjoy
the least benefit from such wanton cruelty. To
kill, or even to maim any living creature that is
doing us no harm, and when there is no possi-
bility, nor even a desire, to procure its catcass for
food, cannot, I should think, by any sophistry
of reasoning, be construed into an act of benevo-
lence. *

I cannot, here, forbear inserting a passage from
" Salt's Travels in Abyssinia," wliich exhibits a
very different spirit in one whom som.e would be
disposed to rank among the class of semi-barba-
rians. " In the evening, Baharnegash Yasons, a
servant of the Ras (of Abyssinia) who had at-
tended me during my whole stay in the country,
took his leave. Among all the men with whom I
hav'e been intimately acquainted, I consider this
old man as one of the most perfect and blameless
characters. His mind seemed to be formed upon
the purest principles of the Christian religion; hia
every .thought and action appeared to be the re-
sult of its dictates. He would often, to ease his
mule, walk more than half the day; and as he jour-
neyed by my side, continually recited prayers for
our welfare and future prosperity. On all occa-
sions he sought to repress in those around him,
every improper feeling of anger; conciliated them
by the kindest words, and excited them, by his
example, to an active performance of their duties.
If a man were weary, he would assist him in
carrying his burden; if he perceived any of the
mules' backs to be hurt, he would beg me to
have them relieved; and, constantly, when he saw
me engaged in shooting partridges, or other birds,
he would call out to them to fly out of the way,
shaking his head, and begging me, in a mournful
accent, not to kill them. I have remarked, in my
former journal, that, with all this refined feeling
of humanity, he was far from being devoid of
courage; and, I had an opportunity, subsequently,
of witnessing several instances of Iris bravery,
though he appeared on all occasions peculiarly

* In throwing out these reflections, the author by no meant
wishes to insinuate, that it is improper, in every instance, to
kill any of the inferior animals; liis remarks being directed
solely a^ninst the practice of wantonly maiming or destroy-
ins them for the sake of mere sport or amusement. Even
in those cases where it may appear expedient or necessary,
to extirpate a portion of the animal tribes, it appears some-
what strange, that gentlemen should be the voluntary agents
employed in this work of destruction, and that their m-nda

i slionld' be so much absorbed in the satisfaction wliirh it
creates. One would have thouglit that the very lowest tlasj

I of the community would have been selected for thi» pni
pose, as there is something naturally revolting in th* em
plojinent of destroying the life of any sensitive bc;iDg.

UTILITY OF THE REAL SCENES OF NATURE.

121

anxious to avoid a quarrel. We parted, I believe, |
witii iiuitual regret ; at least for my own part, I;
can truly say, tiiat I have seldoin felt more resj)ect
for an individual than I did for this worthy man." j
As a contrast to the benevolent dispositions;
displayed by this worthy 'Abyssinian, — I sliall
give a short description of a luU-fiyht, in Madrid,
extracted from a work, the author of which was
a spectator, (in 181)3) of the scene he describes:
" The Spanish bull-fights are certainly tUe most
extraordinary exhibition in Europe : we were pre-
sent at one of them this morning. The places in
the a:ni)hitbeater were nearly all filled at half
past nine, and at ten, the corregidor came into his
box; upon wlii(;h the trumpet sounded, and the
people rose and shouted, from the delight that the
show was to begin imuiediately- Four men in
black gowns then came forward, and read a pro-
clamaiion, enjoining all persons to remain in their
Beats. On their going out of the arena, the six
bulls which were to be fought this morning, were
driven across, led on by a cow, with a bell round
her neck. The two Ficndures (the men who
were appointed to fight the furious animals) now
appeared, dressed in leathern gaiters, thick lea-
thern breeches, silk jackets covered with spangles,
and caps surmounted by broad brimmed wliite
hats ; each rode a miserable hack, and carried in
his hand a long pole, with a goad at the end. As
soon as they were prepared, a door was opened,
and the first bull rushed in. In the course of the
contest, I felt first alarmed for the men, and then
for the horses. Soon the accidents of the men
withdrew niy pity from the beasts ; and, latterly,
by a natnrul, and dreaiful operation of the mind,
I began to look without horror on the calamities
of both. The manner of tiie fight is thus: — the
bull rushes in, and makes an attack severally
upon the picadores, who repulse him ; he being
always, upon these occasions, wounded in the
neck ; after a few rencounters, he becomes some-
what shy ; but, at the same time, when he does
rush on, he is doubly dangerous. He follows up
the attack, and frequently succeeds in overthrow-
ing both horse and rider. As long as the horse
has strength to bear the picadore, lie is obliged to
ride him. This morning one of these wretched
animals was forced to charge, icith his guts hang-
ing in festoons between his legs! His belly was
again ripped open by the bull, and he fell for
dead; but the attendants obliged him to rise and
crawl out! This seems the crudest part o'f the
bu,sinesp ; for the men almost always escape ; but
the hhmd and sujj'erings of thirteen horses were ex-
hiOil.d in the short space of two fiours. Four min
were hurt ; one who was entirely overturned with
his horse upon him, was carried out like a corpse ;
but the spectator^-, totally disregarding this melan-
chdij sight, skiniled for his companion to renew the
attack. The bull, after his first rage and subsequent
fury during many rounds, begins to feel weak-
ness, and declines further attacks on the horse-
men. Upon this, a loud shout re-echoes through
th-". theater, and some of the attendants advance
and stick his gored neck full of arrows, which j
cause him to writhe about in great torment. When i
the efforts he makes under these suflerings have,
considerably spent his strength, the corregidor
makes a motion with his hands, and the trumpets^
Bound as a signal to the matador to dispatch liim. i
This is a service which requires great skill and |
bravery ; for the madness of the bull, and the tor- j
ture he endures, prompt him to destroy every one |
around. The matador advances with a red cloak
in one hand, and a sword ia the other. He en- ,
rages the bull with the cloak, until, at length'

getting opposite to him, he rushes orward, and
the sword pierces his spinal marrow, or, what ia
more common, is buried to the hilt in his neck;
upon which he turns aside, at first nioaning, but
a torrent of blood gushes from his mouth ; and he
staggers round the arena, and falls. The trumpets
sound ; three mules, ornamented with ribbons and
flags, appear, to drag the wretched victim out by
the horns, and the horsemen to prepare 'for the
attack of a fresh animal.

"In the evening the show began at half-past
four, and ten bulls were brought forward. To
tame them before the matador approached, a new
expedient was resorted to, most infamously cruel,
namely, the covering of the darts with sulphur
and fireworks. The torments of these were so
dreadful, that the animals whose strength was
fresh, raged about terribly, so that the assistants
were forced to use great agility to get from them.
There were r^ny hair-breadth escapes, one of the
animals in pursuit of a man, leaped the barrier of
the arena, which is about eight feet high. A
second bull was still more furious, and made more
tremendous attacks. In one of these he pinned
the man and horse against the barriers, got his
horns under the horse, and lacerated him dread-
fully ; in a moment afterward, he lifted him up
and threw the man with such force through one
of the apertures, as to kill him on the spot. H©
was borne past the box in which we were with
his teeth set, and his side covered with blood ; the
horse staggered out, spouting a stream of gora
from his chest. The remaining picadore renewed
the charge, and another came in with shouts to take
the dead man's place. One of these had his horSe'a
skin dreadfully ripped off his side, and when ha
breathed, the entrails swelled out of the hole ; to pre-
vent which, the rider got oif and stuffed in his
pocket handkerchief," etc.* — " I have seen," says
Bourgoing, "eight or ten horses torn, and their
bellies ripped open, fall and expire in the field of
battle. Sometimes these horses, affecting models
of patience, of courage, of docilitj- — present a
spectacle, at which it may be allowable to shudder.
You see them tread under their feet, their own
bloody entrails, hanging out of their open sides,
and still obey, for some time, the hand that guides
them."

Such are the amusements which, in Spain,
fascinate all ranks of the community, from the
prince to the peasant. Young ladies, old men,
servant girls, and people of all ages and all cha-
racters are present. The art of killing a bull,
which seems exclusively to be the business of a
butcher, is gravely discussed and exalted with
transport, not only by the rabble, but by men of
sense, and by women of delicacy. The day of
a bull-fight is the day of solemnity for the whole
canton. "The people come," says Bourgoing,
"from ten and twelve leagues distance. The ar-
tisan who can with difficulty earn enough for his
subsistence, has always sufficient to pay for the
bull-fight. Woe be to the chastity of a young girl
whose poverty excludes her ! Tiie man who pays
for her admittance, will be lier first seducer. It is
indeed a very striking sight, to see all the inha-
bitants assemble round the circus, waiting tha
signal for the fight, and wearing in their exterior
every sign of impatience.' ' There is not a town in
Spain, but what has a large square for the pur-
pose of exhibiting bull-fights ; and it is said, that

* Travels throngli Spain and part of rorlugal in 1803,
Vol. 2. pp. 3."! — 45. A more circnmstaiitial account of
these fights, and in perfect accordance wilh the above
description, may be seen in Bourgoing's "Modern State of
fcpam," vol. 11, pp. 34li— 300.

122

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

even the poorest inhabitants of tlie smallest vil-
lages will often club together, in order to procure
a cow or an o\, and figiit them riding upon asses
for want of horses.* Can a spirit of pure bene-
volence be general among a people addicted to
Buch cruel and savage amusements! And, need
we wonder to find, tliat troops of lawless banditti
aro continually prowling among the mountains
and forests of that country, committing murders
and depredations? One of the autliors just now
quoted, when alluding to banditti, and detailing
the incidents which occurred on his route to
Madrid, says, " In this country it is impossible to
distinguish friends from foes, as all travelers go
well armed. We met just here half a dozen
horsemen, many of whom had swords and pistols,
and wo ajfterwai-d saw peasants riding on asses,
armed in the same way. A few leagues further
en, wo met a strong detachment of cavalrj^ patrol-
ing the road, in consequence of a daring robbery,
which had just been committed on a nobletnan
who was bringing his bride to court from Barce-
lona. He had a numerous retinue; the banditti
were twelve in number, and completely armed."

If we now take a cursory glance at our popu-
lar LITERARY wop.KS, and at several of our publi-
cations intended for the nursery, we shall find
that a goodly portion of thi;m is stamped with the
character of frivolity and of malignity. When
the young mind is just beginning to expand, in-
stead of being irradiated with the beams of una-
dulterated truth, a group of distorted and unsub-
stantial images, which have no prototypes in na-
ture, is presented to the view of the intellect, as
the groundwork of its future progress in wisdom
and knowledge. Instead of the simple and sub-
lime precepts of Christian benevolence, the wild
and romantic notions connected with chivalry,
the superstitions of tiie dark ages, and the love
of false heroism, and of military glory, are at-
tempted to be indelibly riveted on the minds of
the young. MMiat else can be expected, when
such legends and romances as the following, oc-
cupy the principal part of the nursery library? —
Blue Beard; Cinderella; Tom Thumb; Jack the
Qiant-KUler; Vii'entine and Orson; The Seven
Champions of Christendom; Robin Hood; Goody
Two-Shoes; Puss in Boots; Sinbad the Sailor;
Aladdin, or, the Wonderful Lamp; Thalaba, or,
the Destroyer; The Blood-Red Knight; The Maid
and the Magpie; Fairy Tales, and a long list of
similar tales and romances, equally improving and
important! Such works are published, even at
the present time, not only in a Lilliputian size, to
suit the lower ranks of the community, but in a
style of splendor and elegance, cjllculated to fas-
cinate the highest circles of societj'. Ten thou-
sands of copies of such publications, are present-
ly in circulation throughout every part of the
British empire: — and what is the great object
they are calculated to accomplish? To exhibit
distorted views of the scenes of nature, and of
human society; to foster superstitious notions;
to inspire the, minds of the young with an inordi-
nate desire after worldly honor and distinction;
to set before them, as an ultimate object, the
splendor and felicity of "riding in a coach and
six;" and to familiarize their minds to chival-

rous exploits, and to scenes of butchery and
revenge.

If wo glance at the popular literary works of
the present day, intended for the amusement of
chihlren of a larger growth, we shall find many
of them imbued witli a similar spirit, and having
a similar tendency. What is it that just now fas-
cinates our literary loungers, our polished gentry,
our educated females, nay all ranks of the com-
munity, from the dignified clergyman to the hum-
ble weaver, and which threatens to destroy all
relish for plain unvarnished facts, and for sub-
stantial knowledge? The novels ofWaverley,
Guy Manucring, Rob Roy, Tales of my Land-
lord, The Fortunes of Nigel, St. Ronan's Well,
Marmion, The Corsair, Childe Harold, and a
shoal of similar publications, which are daily
issuing from the press. And what is the general
tendency of the great majority of such works? —
To distort and caricature the facts of real history;
to gratify a romantic imagination; to pamper a
depraved mental appetite; to excite a disrelish for
the existing scenes of nature, and for the authen-
ticated facts which have occurred in the history
of mankind; to hold up venerable characters to
derision and contempt; to excite admiration of
the exploits and the malignant principles of those
rude chieftains and barbarous heroes, whoso
names ought to descend into everlasting oblivion;
to revive the revengeful spirit of the dark ages;
to undermine a sacred regard for truth and moral
principle, which are the basis of the happiness of
the intelligent universe; and to throw a false glo-
ry over scenes of rapine, of bloodshed, and of de-
vastation.— To such works, and to their admirers,
we might apply the words of the ancient Prophet:
" He feedeth on asJies; a deceived heart hath
turned him aside, that he cannot say, Is there not
a lie in my right hand?"

" For, sure, to hug a fancied case,
That never did, nor can take place,
And for the pleasnres it can give,
Neglect tlie ' facts of real life,'
Is madness in its greatest hight,
Or I mistake the matter quite." — Wilkie.

To affirm, that it is necessary for the entertain-
ment of the human mind, to have recourse to fic-
titious scenes and narratives, and to the wild vaga-
ries of an unbridled imagination, is, in elTect, to
throw a reflection upon the plans and the con-
duct of the Creator. It implies, that, in tho

I scenes of nature which surround us, both in tho
heavens and on tho earth, and in the administra-
tion of his moral government among men, God

I has not produced a sufTicient variety of interest-
ing objects for the contemplation, the instruction,
and the entertainment of the human race — and
tliat the system of the moral and physical world
must be distorted and deranged, and its economy
misrepresented and blended with the creations of
human folly, before its scenery be rendered fit to
gratify the depraved and fastidious tastes of man-
kind.* And is it indeed true, that there is not a

• It is said that these fights were prohibited in 1805, to the
dnep regret of the most nvmcrous part of the nation; bnt an-
otVter entertainment, calle't fiesta de vm:ellos, which is an
image of the hull-fight, is still retained, and it is not impro-
bi^bie, that, by this time, the true bull-fight "has been again
nviveJ.

* The following sketch of Sir Walter Fcott, the supposed
author of some of the works alluded to, is given in Hazlitt'i
" fjiirit of the Age, or Cotempnrary Portraits." " His mind
receives and treasures up everything brought to it ! y tradi^
tionorcustom — it does not project itself beyond this into
the world unknown, but mechanically shrinks back as from
the edge of a precipice. The land of pure rccvfon, is to hii
apprehension like yan Dieman't! Land, barren, miserable,
distant, a place of exile, the dreary aboiie of savngcs, con-
victs, and adventurers. Sir Walter would make a bad hand
of a description of the millennium, unless he would lay the
scene in Scotland 500 years ago; and then he would want
facts and worm-eaten parchments to snpport his drooping
•tyle< Our historical novelist firmly thinks, that nothing m

UTILITY OF THE REAL SCENES oF NATURE.

123

•ufficiiMit variety to gratify a rational mind in tlie
existing semes of crealiou and providcMice? If
we survey the Alpine scenes of nature; if we ex-
plore I he wonders of the ocean; if we penetrate
into the subterraneous recesses of the globe; if
wo direct our view to the numerous objects of
sublimity and of beauty to be found in every
sountry; if we investigate the structure and
economy of the animal and the vegetable tribes;
if we raise our eyes to the rolling orbs of heaven;
if we look back to the generations of old, and
trace the history of ancieut nations; if we con-
template the present state of civilized and of sa-
vage tribes, and the moral scenery which is eveiy-
whero displayed around us — shall we not find a
sufticient variety of everything which is calcu-
lated to interest, to instruct, and to entertain a ra-
tional mind? I am bold to affirm, that were a
proper selection made of the /arts connected with
the system of nature, and with the history and
the present state of human society, and were the
sketches of such facts executed by the hand of
a master, and interspersed with rational and mo-
ral reflections — volumes might be presented to
the public, no less entertaining, and certainly far
more instructive, than all the novels and romances
which the human imagination has ever produced;
and that, too, without distorting a single fact in
the system of nature or of human society, or ex-
citing a sentiment of admiration or of approba-
tion of the exploits of warriors. If we wish to
be amused with entertaining narrations and novel
scenes, the narratives of adventurous voyagers
and travelers, when written with spirit and anima-
tion, will supply us with entertamment scarcely
nferior to that of the best written novel; and it
is the reader's own fault, if he do not, from such
sources, derive moral instruction. Such adven-
tures as those of Mungo Park in Africa, and
Captain Cochrane in Siberia, and such narratives
as those of Byron, Brisson, Pierre Viaud, Anson,
Cook, Bligh, Perouse, and others, abound with so
many striking and affecting incidents, that the
reader's attention is kept alive, and he feels as
lively an interest in the fate of the adventurers,
as is usually felt in that of the fictitious hero of
a novel, or a romance.

If man were only the creature of a day, whose
whole existence was confined within the limits of
this sublunary scene, he might amuse himself
either with facts or with fictions, or with any toys
or gewgaws that happened to strike his fancy
while he glided down the stream of time to the
gulf of oblivion. But if he is a being destined
for eternity, the train of his thoughts ought to be
directed to objects corresponding to his high des-
tination, and all his amusements blended with
those moral instructions which have an ultimate
reference to the scene of his immortal existence.
When I read one of our modern novels, I enjoy,
for a few hours, a transitory amusement, in con-
templating the scenes of fancy it displays, and in
following the hero through his numerous adven-
tures; 1 admire the force and brilliancy of the
imigijiation of the writer (for I am by no means
diyj ised to underrate the intellectual talent wiiich
has produced some of the works to which I al-
luil.'), but when I have finished the perusal, and
reflect that all the scenes which passed before my

bnt what has been — that the moral \frorld stantis still, as the
materia! one was supposed to do of oM — and that we can
never jet lievond the point where we actnally are, without
mter dcjtruction,thou»ii everything changes and will change,
trom wliat it was 300 years ago, and what it is now, from
what it is now, to all ttiat the bigoted admirer ol the good
eld times most dreads and hates.'^

mental eye, were only so many unsubstantial im-
ages, the fictions of a lively imagination — I can-
not indulge in rational or religious reflections
on the subject, nor derive a single moral instruc-
tion, any more than I can do from a dream or a
vision of tlie night. When I survey the scenes
of creation; when I read the history of ancient
nations; when I peruse the authentic narratives
of the voyager and traveler; when I search the
records of revelation; and when I contemplate
the present state of society around me, — I learn
something of the character, tho attributes, and
the providence of God, and of the moral and phy-
sical state of mankind. From almost every
scene, and every incident, I can deduce in.slruc-
tions calculated to promote the exercise of hu-
mility, meekness, gratitude, and resignation — to
lead the mind to God as the source of felicity, and
as the righteous governor of the world — and to
impress the heart with a sense of the folly and
depravity of man. But it is obvious, that no dis-
tinct moral instructions can be fairly deduced
from scenes, circumstances, and events " which
never did nor can take place." — Such however is,
at present, the tide of public opinion on this sub-
ject, that we might as soon attempt to stem a
mountain torrent by a breath of wind, or to in-
terrupt the dashings of a mighty cataract by the
waving of our hand, as to expect to counteract",
by any considerations that can be adduced, the
current of popular feeling in favor of novels, and
tales of knights, and of tournaments; of warlike
chieftains, and military encounters. Such a state
of feeling, I presume, never can exist in a world
where moral evil has never shed its malign influ-
ence.

Again, If we consider the sentiments .ind the
conduct of many of our Literary and Scientijic
characters, we shall find that even philosophy has
had very little influence, in counteracting the
stream of malignity, and promoting the exercise
of benevolence. Do not many of our literary
characters in their disputes frequently display as
keen resentments, and as malevolent dispositions,
as the professed warrior; and the man of the
world? and have they not sometimes resorted
even to horsewhips and to pistols to decide their
contests? In proof of this, need I refer to the
gentlemen now or formerly connected with the
"Edinburgh Magazine," "Blackwood's Maga-
zine," the " London Magazine," the " Quarterly
Review," and other periodical works — and to the
mean jealousies and contentions wiiich have been
displayed, and the scurrilous paragra])h3 which
have been written by various descriptions of com-
petitors for literary fame? Such a display of tem-
per and conduct in men of professed erudition,
is not only inconsistent with moral principle, and
the dignity of true science, but has a tendency to
hold up philosophy and substantial knowledge to
the scorn and contempt both of the Christian and
of the political world.

Again, is it an evidence that benevolence forms
a prominent character of modern civilized society,
when philanthropists, who have devoted their sub-
stance and their mental activities to the promotion
of the best interests of mankind; and when men
of science, who have enlarged the sj)here of our
knowledge, and improved the useful arts, are suf-
fered to pine away in penury and neglect, and to
descend into the grave, without even a " frail me-
morial " to mark the spot where their mortal re-
mains are deposited; while, on tho warrior, who
has driven the plowshare of destruction thiough
the world, and wounded the peace of a thou-
sand families, enormous pensions are bestowed,

124

THE PHILOSOPHy OF RELIGION.

and trophies erected to perpetuate his memory to
future generations? And liow comes it to pass,
if benevolence and justice bo distinguishing fea-
tures of our age and nation, tliat autliors, whoso
writings atibrd instruction and entertainment to
a numerous public, are frecpiently suliered to pine
away in anxiety and distress, and to remain in
hopeless indigence, while publishers and booksel-
lers are fattening on the fruit of their labors? Yet,
while wo leave them to remain in abject penury,
during life, — no sooner have their spirits taken
their riight into the world unknown, than sub-
scriptions are set on foot, statues and mausoleums
are erected, tUtttering inscriptions are engraved on
tiieir tombs, and anniversary dinners are appoint-
ed to celebrate their memories. Sucli displays of
liberality might have been of essential benetit to
the individuals, wliile they sojourned within the
limits of this sublunary sphere; but they are al-
together futile and superlinous in relation to the
separate spirits, which are now placed forever be-
yond the reach of such vain pageantry and post-
humous honors.

If we now attend, for a little, to the Penal Codes
of civilized nations, we shall find them, not only
glaringly deficient in a spirit of benevolence, but
deeply imbued with a spirit of cruelty and re-
venge. The great object of all civil punishments
ought to be, not only the prevention of crimes,
but also the reformation of the criminal, in order
that a conviction of the evil of his conduct may
be impressed upon his mind, and that he may be
restored to society as a renovated character. —
When punishments are inflicted with a degree of
severity beyond what is necessary to accomplish
these ends, the code which sanctions them, be-
comes an engine of cruelty and of injustice. —
But, the reformation, -and the ultimate happiness
of the criminal, never seem to have been once
taken into consideration, in the construction of
the criminal codes of any nation in Europe.
The infliction of pain, and even of torture, and
of everything that is degrading and horrible, to a
degree far beyond what is necessary for the secu-
rity of the public, and which has no other ten-
dency than to harden the culprit, seems to have
been the great object of the framers of our penal
statutes. If a man has committed an offense
against society, he is either confined to a jail,
thrown into a dungeon, loaded with irons, whip-
ped through the streets, banished to a distant land,
hung upon a gallows, or broken on the wheel. —
No system of moral regimen, calculated to coun-
teract his criminal habits, to impart instruction
to his mind, and to induce habits of industry
and temperance (except in a few insulated cases),
has yet been arranged by our legislators, so as to
render punishment a blessing to the criminal, and
to the community which he has injured.

The following circumstances, in relation to
punishments, manifest a principle both of folly
and of malignity in the arrangements of our cri-
minal jurisprudence. In the first place, the pre-
sent system of our prison discipline, instead of
operating to prevent the increase of crime, has a
direct and inevitable tendency to produce vice and
wretchedness, and to render our jails the nurse-
ries of everj' depraved propensity, and of every
species of moral turpitude. From the indiscrimi-
nate association of .the young and the old, and of
persons charged with every degree of criminality,
the youthful and inexperienced culprit is soon tu-
tored in all the arts of fraud, deception, and rob-
bery, and prepared for acting a more conspicuous
nnd atrocious part on the theater of crime. " I
makft no scruple to aflirm," says Mr. Howard,

" that if it were tlie aim and wish of magistrates
to efTect the destruction, present and future, of
young delinquents, they could not desire a more
eliectual method than to confine them in our pri-
sons." Of the truth of this position, the reader
will find an ample and impressive proof in the
Honorable T. F. Buxton's " Inquiry whether
crime and misery are produced or prevented by
our present system of Prison Discijjline."

In the second place, the disproportion between
crimes and punishments, and the sanguiuary cha-
racter of every civilized code of penal statutes,
are directly repugnant to every principle of jus-
tice and benevolence. The punishment assigned
by the law to the man who steals a sheep, or pil-
fers a petty article of merchandise, is the same as
that wliich it inflicts on the miscreant who has
imbrued his hands in his father's blood. In
France, prior to the revolution, the punishment
of robbery, either with or without murder, was
the same; and hence it happened, that robbery
was seldom or never perpetrated without murder.
For, when men see no distinction made in the
nature and gradations of punishment, they will
be generally led to conclude, that there is uo dis-
tinction in the guilt. In our own country, it is
a melancholy truth, that, among the variety of ac-
tions which men are daily liable to commit, no less
than one hundred and sixty have been declared,
by act of parliament, to be felonies, without ben-
efit of clergy; or, in other words, to be worthy
of instant death.* It is an indelible disgrace to
an age which boasts of its being enlightened with
the beams of science, and of religion, that laws,
framed in an ignorant and barbarous age, and in-
tended to apply to temporary or fortuitous occur*
rences, should still be acted upon, and stand un-
repealed in the criminal codes of the nations of
Eua'ope, in the I9th century of the Christian era,
when so many distinguished writers have demon-
strated their futility, their injustice, and their in-
adequacy for the prevention of crime. For, in-
stead of diminishing the number of offenders,
experience proves, that crimes are almost uni-
formly increased by an undue severity of punish-
ment. This was strikingly exemplified in the
reign of Henry VIII, remarkable for the abun-
dance of its crimes, which certainly did not arise
from the mildness of punishment. In that reign
alone, says his historian, seventy-two thousand exe-
cutions took place for robberies alone, exclusive
of the religious murders which are known to
have been immerous — amounting, on an average,
to six executions a day, Sundays included, during
the whole reign of that monarch.

In the next place, the shocking and unneccssa/ry
cruelties which are frequently inflicted upon cri-
minals, are inconsistent with every principle of
reason and of justice, and revolting to every feel-
ing of humanity. If the forfeiture of life ought,
in any case, to be resorted to as the punishment
of certain crimes, humanity dictates, that it
should be accompanied with as little pain as pos-
sible to the unfortunate criminal. But man, even
ciuilized man, has glutted l;is savage disposition
by inventing tortures to agonize his fellow man,
at which humanity shudders. It is not enough
that a poor unfortunate wretch, in the prime of
life, whom depravity has hurried to the comm.s-
sion of crime, should be deprived of his mortal
existence, — his soul must be harrowed up at the
prospect of the prolonged torments which he
must endure, before his spirit is permitted to take

* Ency. Brit., Art. Crime.

CRUEL PUNISHMENTS.

125

its flight to the world unknown. Instead of sim-

Ely strangling or belieading the unhappy criminal,
is flesh must be torn with pinchers, his bones dis-
located, his hands chopped off, or his body left to
fine away in exquisite torments, amidst devour-
ing flumes. In Sweden, murder is punished by
beheading and quartering, after having previously
chopped off the hand. In Germany, I'oland, Ita-
ly, and other parts of the continent, it was cus-
tomary, and, 1 believe, still is, in some jjlaces, to
juit criminals to death, by breaking them alive on
tlie wheel. The following account is given, by a
traveler, wlio was in Berlin, in 1819, of the- exe-
cution of a man for murder, wliich shows that
the execution of criminals, in Prussia, is frequent-
ly distinguished by a spcci(>s of cruelty wortiiy
of the worst days of the inquisition. Amidst the
parade of executioners, ollicers of police, and
other judicial authorities, the beating of drums,
and the waving of flags and colors, the criminal
mounted the scaffold. No ministers of religion
appeared to gild the horrors of eternity, and to
soothe the agonies of the criminal; and no repen-
tant prayer closed his quivering lips. " Never,"
says the narrator, "shall I forget the one bitter
looli of imploring agony that he threw around
him, as immediately on stepping on the scaffold,
liis coat was rudely torn from off his shoulders.
lie was then thrown down, the cords fixed round
his neck, which were drawn until strangulation
almost commenced. Another executioner then
approached, bearing in his hands a heavy wheel,
bound with iron, with which he violently struck
the legs, arms, and chest, and lastly the head of
tiie criminal. I was unfortunately near enough
to witness his mangled and bleeding bodj' still
convulsed. It was then carried down for inter-
ment, and, in less than a quarter of an hour from
the beginning of his torture, the corpse was com-
pletely covered with earth. Several large stones,
ivhicli were tiirown upon him, hastened his last
gasp; ke was vianyled into eternity!"

In Russia, the severest punishments are fre-
quently inflicted for the most trivial offenses.
The knout is one of the most common punish-
ments iu that country. This instrument is a
thong made of the skin of an elk or of a wild ass,
so hard that a single stroke is capable of cutting
the flesh to the bone. The following description
is given by Olearius of the manner in which he
saw tlie knout inflicted on eight men, and one
woman, only for selling brandy and tobacco with-
out a license. " The executioner's man, after
stripping them down to the waist, tied their feet,
and took one at a time on his back. The execu-
tioner stood at three paces distance, and, spring-
ing forward with the knout in his hand, — when-
ever he struck, the blood gushed out at every
blow. The men had each twenty-five or twenty-
six lashes; the woman, though only sixteen, faint-
ed away. Alter their backs were thus dreadfully
mangled, they were tied together two and two;
and those who sold tobacco having a little of it,
and those who sold brandy a little bottle put about
their necks; they were then whipped through the
city of Petersbui-gh for about a mile and a half,
and then brought back to the place of their pun-
isnment, and dismissed." Th.it is what is termed
the imdcrate knout; for when it is given with tlie
utmost severity, the executioner, striking the
flank under tlie ribs, cuts the flesh to tlie bowels;
and, therefore, it isino wonder that many die of
this inhuman punishment. — The punishmsntof
the pirates and robbers who in'e'st the banks of the
Woiga, is anjther act of savage cruelty common
to Russia. A float is built, wiiereon a gallows is

erected, on which is fastened a number of iTon
hooks, and on these the wretched criminals are
hung alive by the ribs. The float is th.en launche
ed into the stream, and orders are given to all th-
towns and villages on the borders of the river, that
none, upon pain of death, shall afford the least
relief to any of these wretches. These malefac-
tors sometimes hang, in this manner, three, four,
and even five days alive. The pain produces a
raging fever, in which they utter the most horrid
imprecations, imploring the relief of water and
other liquors.* During the reign of Peter the
Great, the robbers who infested various parts of
his dominions, particularly the banks of the
Wolga, were hung up in this manner by hundreds
and thousands, and left to perish in the most
dreadful maner. Even yet, the boring of the
tongue, and the cutting of it out, are practiced in
this country as an inferior species of punishment.
Such cruel punishments, publicly inflicted, can
have no other tendency than to demoralize the
minds of the populace, to blunt their natural feel-
ings, and to render criminal characters still more
desperate: and hence we need not wonder at what
travelers affirm respecting the Russians, that they
are very indifferent as to life or death, and un-
dergo capital punishments with unparalleled apa-
thy and indolence.

Even among European nations more civilized
than the Russians, similar tortures have been
inflicted upon criminals. The execution of Da-
miens, in 17.^7, for attempting to assassinate Louis
XV, King of France, was accompanied with tor-
tures, the description of which is sufficient to har-
row up the feelings of the most callous mind —
tortures, which could scarcely have been exceeded
in intensity and variety, although they had been
devised and executed by the ingenuity of an in-
fernal fiend. And yet, they were beheld with a
certain degree of apathy by a surrounding popu-
lace; and even counselors and physicians could
talk together about the best mode of tearing asun-
der the limbs of the wretched victim, with as
much composure as if they had been dissecting a
dead subject, or can'ing a pullet. Even in Britain,
at no distant period, similar cruelties were prac-
ticed. Those who are guilty of high treason are
condemned, by our law, " to be hanged on a gal-
lows for some minutes; then cut down, while yet
alive, the heart to be taken out and exposed to
view, and the entrails burned." Though the most
cruel part of tliis sentence has never been actually
inflicted in our times, yet it is a disgrace to Bri-
tons that suclia statute should still stand unre-
pealed in our penal code. — The practice, too, of
torturing supposed criminals for the purpose of
extorting a confession of guilt, was, until a lata
period, common over all the countries of Europe;
and if I am not mistaken, is still resorted to, in
several parts of the continent. Hence, Baron
Bielfeld, in his "Elements of Universal Erudi-
tion," published in 1770, lays down as one of the
branches of criminal jurisprudence, " The different
kinds of tortures for the discovery of truth." Such
a practice is not only cruel and unjust, but absurd
in the highest degree, and repugnant to every
principle of reason. For, as the Marquis Becca-
ria has well obser\'ed, " It is confounding all rela-
tions to expect that a man should be both the
accuser and the accused, and that pain should bt
the test of truth; as if truth resided in tlie muscles
and fibers of a wretch in torture. By this method.

• ?ee Hnnway's " Travels throiigti Russia an t Persia "—
Salmon's " Present Stale of all Nations," vol. C. Guthriet
Geograpliy, &c.

126

THE PIIILOSOPPIY OF RELIGION.

the robust will escape, and tlie feeble be condemn-
ed.— To di^•cove^ tnitli by this method, is a pro-
blem which may be better resolved by a niatho-
mutician tlian a jiulgo, and maybe thus stated:
3'Ae Jvrce of the muscles and the sensibility of ike
nerves (f an innocent person being given, it is re-
quired to Jind the degree of pain necessary to make
him foH/ess himself guilty of a gioen crime."*

If the contiued limits of the present work had
admitted, I might have prosecuted these illustra-
tions to a much greater extent. I might have
traced the operations of malevolence in the prac-
tice of tliat most shocking and abominable traffic,
t}ie Slave Trade — the eternal disgrace of indivi-
duals and of nations "calling themselves civilized.
Tins is an abomination which has been encou-
raged by almost evciy nation in Europe, and even
by the. enlightened states of America. And al-
though Groat Britain has formally prohibited, by
a law, the importation of slaves from Africa; yet,
in all her West India colonies, slaveiy in its most
cruel and degrading form still exists; and every
proposition, and every plan for restoring the ne-
groes to their natural liberty, and to the rank
which they hold in the scale of existence, is perti-
naciously resisted by gentlemen planters, who
vcould spurn at the idea of being considered as
either infidels or barbarians. They even attempt
to deprive these degraded beings of the chance
of obtaining a happier existence in a future world,
by endeavoring to withhold from them the means
of instruction, and by persecuting their instruc-
tors. " In Demerara alone there are 76,000 im-
mortaf souls linked to sable bodies, while there
are but !^,500 whites; and yet, for the sake of these
three thousand whites, the seventy-six thousand,
with all their descendants, are to be kept in igno-
rance of the way of salvation, for no other pur-
pose than to procure a precarious fortune for a
very few individuals out of their sweat and
blood." Is such conduct consistent with the
spirit of benevolence, or even with the common
feelings of humanity? I might have traced the
same malignant principle, in the practice of a set
of men denominated wreckers, who, by setting
up false lights, allure mariners to destruction, that
they may enrich themselves by plundering the
wrecks — in the icarlike dispositions of all the go-

* See Beocaria's "Essay on Crimes and Punishments," pp.
52-56. The following is a brief summarj' of the principal
punishments that have been adopted by men, in ditierent
countries, for tormenting and destroying each otlier. Caiiital
pnnishnients — beheading, strangling, crucifixion, drowning,
burning, roasting, hanging by the neck, the arm, or the leg;
starving, sawing, exposing to wild beasts, rending asunder
by horses drawing opposite ways, shooting, burying alive,
blowing from the mouth of a cannon, compulsory depriva-
tion of sleep, rolling on a barrel stuck with nails, cutting to
pieces, hanging by the ribs, poisoning, pressing slowly to
death by a weight 'laid on the breast; casting headlong trom
a rock, tearing out the bowels, pulling to pieces with red-hot
pinchers, stretching on the rack, breaking on the wheel, im-
paling, flaying alive, cutting out tlie heart, &c., &o., &c.
Punishments short of death have been such as the following.
Fine, pillory, imprisonment, compulsory labor at the mines,
galleys, highways, or correction-iiouse; whipping, bastinad-
ing; motilation by cutting away the ears, the nose, the
tongue, the breasu of women, the foot, the hand; squeezing
the marrow from the bones with screws or wedges, castra-
tion, putting out the eyes; banishment, running the gaunt-
let, drnmming, shaving olf the hair, burning on the hand or
forehead; and many others of a similar natnrc. Could the
ingenuity of the inhabitants of To^lut have invented pun-
ishments more cruel and revolting"! Has any one of these
modes of punishment a tendency to reform the criminal, and
promote his happiness? On the contrary, have they not all
a direct tendency to irritate, to harden, and to excite feel-
ings of revengel Nothing shows the malevolent disposi-
tions of a gre.at portion of the human race, in so striking a
light, as the punishments they have inflicted on one an-
other; for these are characteristic, not of insulated individu-
als only, but of nations, in theii collective capacity.

vernments of Europe, and the enormous sums
which have been expended in the work of devas-
tation, and of human destruction, while they have
refused to give the least direct encouragement to
philanthropic institutions, and to the improvement
of the community in knowledge and virtue — and
in that spirit of tyranny, and thirst for despotic
power, which have led them to crush the rising
intelligence of the people, and to lend a deaf ear
to their most reasonable demands. For, there
is no government on this side of the Atlantic, so
far as I know, that has ever yet formed an insti-
tution for promoting the objects of general bene-
volence, for counteracting the baleful effects of
depravity and ignorance, and for enlightening the
minds of the people in useful knowledge; or which
has even contributed a single mite to encourage
such institutions alter they were set on foot by
the people themselves. Knowledge is simply per-
mitted to be diffused; it is never directly encou-
raged; its progress is frequently obstructed; and,
in some instances, it is positively interdicted, as
appears from the following barbarous edict, pub-
lished in the year 1825. — " A royal Sardinian edict
directs, that henceforth no person shall learn to
read or write who cannot prove the possession of
property above the value of 1500 livres (or about
60/. sterling). The qualification for a student is
the possession of an income to the same amount."*
Such is the firm determination of many of the
kings and princes of Europe to hold their subjects
in abject slavery and ignorance; and such is the
desperate tendency of proud ambition, that they
will rather suffer their thrones to shake and totter
beneath them, than give encouragement to liberal
opinions, and to the general diffusion of know-
ledge.— But, instead of illustrating such topics in
minute detail, I shall conclude this section by
presenting a few miscellaneous facts, tending to
corroborate several of the preceding statements,
and to illustrate the moral state of the civilized
world.

The following statement, extracted from
"Neale's Travels through Germany, Poland^
Moldavia, and Turkey," exhibits a faint picture
of the state of morals in Poland. " If ever there
was a country," says Mr. Neale, "where 'might
constitutes right,' that country was Poland, prior
to its partition." The most dreadful oppression,
the most execrable tyranny, the most wanton
cruelties were daily exercised by the nobles upon
the unfortunate peasants. — Let us quote a few
facts; they will speak volumes. A Polish pea-
sant's life was held of the same value with one
of his horned cattle; if his lord slew him, he was
fined only 100 Polish florins, or 2Z. 16s. sterling.
If, on the other hand, a man of ignoble birth
dared to raise his hand against a nobleman, death
was the inevitable punishment. If any one pre-
sumed to question the nobility of a magnate, he
was forced to prove his assertion, or suffer death;
nay, if a powerful man chose to take a fancy to
the field of his humbler neighbor, and to erect
a landmark upon it, and if that landmark remain-
ed for three days, the poor man lost his posses-
sion. The atrocious cruelties that were habitu-
ally exercised, are hardly credible. A Masalki
caused his hounds to devour a peasant who hap-
pened to frighten his horse. A Radzivil had the
belly of one of his subjects ripped open, to thrust
his feet into it, hoping thereby to be cured of a
malady that had tormented him.

One of the most infallible signs of a degraded
state of morals in any country, is the corrupt

• Hamburgh Paper, August, 1825.

STATE OF MORALS IN CUBA.

127

administration of justice. As specimens of Po-
lish justice, Mr. Nealo mentions tho caso of a
merciiLiat of Warsaw, whom it cost 1400 ducats
to ])rocure the cnuviction and execution of two
robbers wiio had phindered him; and another case,
Btill more llajrnnt, t!iat of a peasant who had
apprehended an assassin, and wlio, on taking him
to the Staro.ste, was coolly dismissed with the
prisoner, and the corpse of the murdered person
wliich he had brought in his wagon; because he
had not ten ducat-; — tiie fee den;anded by the
magistrate for his interference. — "During the
reign of Stanislaus Poniatowsky, a petty noble
having refus'd to resign to Count Tliisenhaus
his small estate, the Count invited hijn to tiinner,
as if desirous of amicably adjusting the affair;
and while the knight, in the pride of his heart at
such unexpected honor, assiduously plied the bot-
tle, the Count dispatched some hunJreds of pea-
sants with oxes,j)lows, and wagons, ordering the
village, which consisted only of a few wooden
buikdngs, to be pulled down, the materials carried
away, and the plow to be passed over the ground
which the village had occupied. This was accord-
ingly done. The nobleman, on his return home
in the evening, could find neither road, house,
nor village. Tiio master and his servant were
alike bewildeiei, and knew not wliether they
were dreaming or had lo;.;t tlie power of discrimi-
nation; but their surprise and agony were deemed
so truly humorous, that the whole court was
delighted with the joke!" How depraved must
be the state of moral feeling, when the injustice
inflicted upon fellow-creatures, and the miseries
tliey endure, become the subjects of merriment
and derision! — " The moral.s of the people of Po-
land," says Mr. Neale, " were, and continue to
be, - nearly at the lowest point of debasement.
Female chastity is a phenomenon; while the male
aex are proportionally profligate. Drunkenness,
gluttony, and sensuality, prevail to a degree un-
known in other countries in Europe."

The following extract from I\Ir. Ilowison's
" Foreign Scenes and Traveling Recreations,"
will convey some idea of the state of morals in
the island of Cuba. "Nothing can be worse,"
says Mr. H., " than the state of society in Ha-
vana. The lower classes are all alike dissolute
and unprincipled. As.sassi nations are so frequent
that they excite little attention; and assault and
robbery are mitters of course, when a man passes
alone and at night through a solitary quarter of
the town. Several assassinations take place in
the streets every week." This depraved and law-
less state of things may be ascribe] to three
causes: the inefficiency of the police; the love
of gaming and dissipation which prevails among
the- lower orders; and the facility with which
absolution of the greatest criiiies may be obtained
from the priests. In fact, the Catholic religion,
as it now exists in Cuba, tends to encourage
rather than to check vice. We shall suppose,
for example, that a man makes himself master of
100 dollars by robbing or by murdering another;
and that the church grants him absolution for
haL" the sum thus lawlessly obtained; it is evident
tha : he will gain 50 dollars by the whole transac-
tion, and think himself as innocent as he was be-
fore he conunitted the crime. No man need
mount the Havana scaffold, whatever be his
crime, if he has the means of ministering to the
rapacity of the church, and of bribing the civil
authorities. A poor friendless criminal is execu-
ted in a few days after sentence is pronounced
upon him; but a person of wealth and influence
generally manages to put off capital punishment

' for a series of years, and at last get it commuted
I to fine and imprisonment. Of these depraved
I practices, Mr. Hewison states several striking ex-
amples.— Those statements of Mr. H., in n'^fcrence
to the moral state of Cuba, I find corroborated by
' a short account of this island in the Monthly
'Magazine for March, 1820, page 120. "They
act here very frequently those sacred mysteries
1 which so delighted our good forefathers. 1 have
witnessed (says the writer) the triumph of Ave
Maria, a tragi-comedy, which closes with the
sudden apj)earance, in the midst of a theater, of
a chivalrous worthy, mounted on a real horsB,
shaking at the end of a lance the bloody heid of
an infidel. This horrid exhibition excited a titter
j of enjoyment in all the spectators. The ladies, in
j particular, seemed to be highly entertained, — no
! fainting fits, no nervous attacks. How could a
I mere fiction agonize the blunt feelings of women,
hardened by the spectacle of bull-fights, and al-
most every day meeting with the dead body of
some human being who has been assassinated?"
There is no situation in which human beings
can be placed, where we should more natundly
expect the manifestation of benevolent affections,
than in those scenes of danger where all are
equally exposed to deep distress, and where the
exercise of sympafhj'- and kindness is the only
thing that can alleviate the anguish of the mind.
When the prosj)ect of immediate death, or of
prolonged agonies even more dreadful than the
simple pain of dissolution, is full before the mind,
one should think that ferocious dispositions wculd
be instantly curbed, and kindly affections begin
to appear. Yet, even in such situations, it fre-
quently happens, that feelings of malevolence and
revenge, and all the depraved passions, are most
powerfully excited to action. The following facts
will tend to illustrate this remark. Mr. Byron
was shipwrecked, in a violent storm on the coast
of South America. A mountainous sea broke
over the ship; she was laid on her beam ends;
darkness surrounded them; nothing was to be
seen but breakers all around; and every soul on
board looked upon the present minute as his last.
"So terrible was the scene of foaming breakers
around us," says Mr. B., " that one of the bravest
men we had could not help expressing his dismay
at it, saying it v/as too shocking a sight to bear."
Even in this dreadful situation, malignant pas-
sions began to appear; and, like the dashing waves
around, tp rage with unbounded violence. No
sooner had the morning thrown a ray of light
I over the dismal gloom, and a faint glimpse of land
: was perceived, than many of the crew who, but a
I few minutes before, had shown the strongest
I signs of despair, and were on their knees praying
j for mercy, "grew extremely riotous, broke open
every chest and box that was at hand, stove in the
] heads of casks of brandy and wine, and got so
I drunk that some of them were drowned on board,
[ and lay floating about the decks for some days
I after." After the greater part, to the number of
! 150 persons, had got to shore — " the boatswain
j and some of the people would not leave the ship
! so long as there was any liquor to be got at; they
fell to beating everything to pieces that came in
I their way, and carrying their intemperance to
the greatest excess, broke open chests and cabins
I for plunder that could be of no use to them. So
' earnest were they in this wantonness of theft,
that one man had evidently been murdered on
I account of some division of the spoil, or for the
sake of the share that fell to him, having all tha
I marks of a strangled corpse." The same malig-
i uant dispositioHs were displayed, in uumerous

128

TPIE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

instances, dnringf their abode on the desolate and
barren island on whicli tiiey had been thrown,
notwithstanding the hunger, tlie rains, the coUi,
and the attacks of wild beasts to which they were
bU equally exposed.*

There is, (xrliaps, no occurrence that has hap-
pened in modern times, which so strikingly dis-
plays the desperate malignity of human beings in
the midst of danger, as the conduct of the crew
of the Medusa Frigate, wliile tossing on tlie rajt
by which tliey endeavored to save themselves,
after that vessel had been'shipwrocked. Tlie Rle-
dusa was stranded, in the month of June, TSlG,
on the bank of Arguin, near the western coast
of Africa. A raft was hastily constructed, which
was but scantily supplied witli provisions. There
were five boats, which contained in all about 240
persons; and upon the raft, there embarked about
150 individuals. The boats pushed off in a line,
towing the raft, and assuring the people on board
that they would conduct them safely to land.
They had not proceeded, however, above two
leagues from the wreck, when they, one by one,
cast off the tow lines, and abandoned the raft to
its fate. By this time the raft had sunk belov/
the surface of the water to the deptli of three
feet and a half, and the people were so squeezed
one against another, that it was found impossible
to move: fore and aft they were up to the middle
in water. Night at length came on; the wind
freshened; the sea began to swell; about mid-
night the weather became very stormy, and the
waves broke over them in-evcry direction. Toss-
ed by the waves from one end to the other, and
sometimes precipitated into the sea; floating be-
tween life and death; mourning over their own
misfortunes; certain of perishing, yet contending
for the )-emains of existence with that cruel ele-
ment which menaced to swallow them up — such
was their situation until break of day, when a
dreadfid s^ieclacle presented itself. Ten or twelve
unhappy men. having their extremities jammed
between the spars of the raft, had perished in that
situation, and others had been swept away by the
violence of the waves — All tliis, however, was
nothing to the dreadful scene which took place the
following night. " Already," says the narrator,
"was the moral character of the people greatly
changed. A spirit of sedition spread from man
to man, and manifested itself by the most furious
shouts." Night came on; the heavens were ob-
scured with thick clouds; the wind rose, and with
it the sea; the waves broke over them every mo-
ment; numbers were swept away, and several
poor wretches were smothered by the pressure of
tJieir comrades. Both soldiers and sailors resolved
to soothe their last moments by drinking to excess;
they bicame deaf to the voice of reason; boldly
declared their intention of mnrdering their officers;
and, cutting the ropes which held the rafts to-
gether, one of them seizing an axe, actually began
the dreadful work. The officers rushed forward
to quell the tumult, and the man with the hatchet
was the first that fell — the stroke of a saber ter-
minated his existence. One fellow was detected
secretly cutting the ropes, and was immediately
thrown overboard; others destroyed the shrouds
and halyards; and the mast, destitute of support,
immediately fell on a captain of infantry, and
broke his thigh; he was instantly seized by the
soldiers and thrown into the sea, but was saved
by the opposite party. About an hour after mid-
night tho insurrection burst forth anew. They

• See Ryion's " Xanative of the Loss of the Wager Man
•f War."

rushed upon the officers like desperate men, each
having a knife or a saber in his hand; and such :
was tho fury of the assailants, that they tore their j
flesh, and even their clothes with their teetli. 1
There was no time for hesitation; a general j
slaughter took place, and the raft was strewed
with dead bodies. On the return of day, it was
found that, in the course of the preceding night
of horror, sixtij-five of the mutineers had perish-
ed, and two of tlie small party attached to the
officers. A third night of horror approached, dis-
tinguished by the piercing cries of those whom
hunger and tliirst devoured; and the morning's
sun showed them a dozen unfortunate creatures
stretched lifeless on the raft. The fourth night
was marked by another massacre. Some Span-
iards and Italians conspired to throw the rest into
the sea. A Spaniard was the first to advance
with a drawn knife; the sailors seized him and
threw him into the sea. The Italian seeing this,
jumped overboard; the rest were mastered, and
order was restored. But, before the ship Argus
came to their relief, of the 150 that embarked on
the raft, 15 unhappy creatures only remained,
covered with wounds and bruises, almost naked,
stripped of their skin, shriveled with the rays of
the sun, their eyes hollow, and their countenances
savage.. — Such are the dreadful effects of malipmfij,
whicli produces more sufferings and fatal effects,
than the most tremendous elements of nature!

A certain portion of the same spirit was lately
displayed by several individuals on board of the
Kent East Indiaman. In the midst of a most vio-
lent gale, in the Bay of Biscay, when the sea was
running mountains high, this vessel, containing
about 600 persons, took fire, in consequence of tho
spirits from a stoved cosk having communicated
with a lamp ; and all hopes of safetj' became ex-
tinguished, until the ship Cambria, Captain Cooke,
hove in sight. But the danger of passing fronj
one ship to the other, in boats, in such a tempes-
tuous sea, rendered the preservation of the passen-
gers and crew in a degree doubtful. Yet, in the
midst of the danger, the alarm and the anguish
which accompanied this tremendous scene, we are
told bj' the narrator, page 24, that " it is suspected
that one or two of those who perished, must have
suidv under the weight of th^ir spoils ; the same
individuals having been seen eagerly plundering
the cuddy cabins." And, a little afterward, page
•31, he adds : " Some time after the shades of night
had enveloped us, I descended to the cuddy in
quest of a blanket to shelter me from the increas-
ing cold, and the scene of desolation that there
presented itself was melancholy in. the extreme^
The place, which only a few short hours before
had been the seat of kindlj' intercourse, and of so-
cial gayety, was now entirely deserted, save by a
few miseraljle wretches, who were either stretched
in irrecoverable intoxication on the floor, or prowl-
ing about, like beasts of prey, in search of
plunder."*

* See a " Narrative of the Loss of the Kent East India-
man, by fire, in tlie B.ay of Biscay, on the 1st of March,
1825,by aPassenger," supposed to be Mnjor Macgregor.— The
humanity and intrepidity displayed, amidst the heart-rending
scene which this narrative describes — by Captain Cobb of
the Kent; by Messrs. Thompson, Fearon, Macgregor, and
the other officers, and many of the soldiers ; by Captain
Coolie of the Cambria, his crew, and the Cornish miners —
is above all praise. Their benevolent and heroic conduct at
that alarming crisis, is far more deserving of a public monti-
ment being raised for its commemoration, than that of many
of our military heroes, in honor of whom so many trophies
have been erected. If men, who have been instrumental in
destroying the lives and the happiness of hundreds and of
thousands, have pensions bestowed on them, and are exalt-
ed to posts of honor, surely those who have exerted their

EARLY AGES OF CHRISTIANITY.

129

The following is a short description of the mor
ttl character of the inhnbitauts of Carolina, and of
one of the amusements of a pc^oplo who boast of
llieir liberty and their civilizulion, — as it is found
in " Morse's American Geography." "The citi-
zens of Nortii Carolina who are not hetter om-
oioyed, spend their time in drinking, or gaming
at cards or dice, in cock-fighting, or horse-racing.
Many of the interludes are lilled up with a boxing-
niutcii ; and these matches frequently become
memorable by feats of gouijing. This delicate and
entertainiii-g diversion is thus performed : When
two bo.\crs are worried with fighting and bruising
each other, they come, as it is called, to close
quarters ; and each endeavors to twist his fore-
fingers iu the ear-locks of his antagonist. When
these are fast clenched, the thumbs are extended
each way to the nose, and the eyes genthj twined
out of their sockets. The victor, for his expertness,
receives shouts of applause from the sporting throng,
while his poor eyeless antagonist is laughed at fur
his misfortune. In a country that pretends to any
degree of civilization, one would hardly expect to
find a prevailing custom of putting out the eyes
of each other. Yet this more than barbarous cus-
tom is prevalent in both the Carolinas, and in
Georgia among the lower class of people." —
" Lord, what is man !" In a savage and a civil-
ized state — in infancj' and in manhood — in his
games and diversions — in the instructions by
which he is trained — in the remarks he makes
upon his neighbors — in the sports and amuse-
ments in which he indulges — iu his literary pur-
suits and lucubrations — in his system of rewards
and punishments — in his intercourses and contests
with communities and nations — in his commercial
transactions — in his judicial administrations — in
,he hight of prosperity — and in scenes of danger,
ind of the deepest distress, — a principle of malig-
lity is forever operating to destroy his comforts,
tnd to undermine the foundation of his happi-
less ! j

The above sketches inay suffice, in the mean-
irae, as specimens of some of the prominent dis-
positions of that portion of the human race who
lave assumed to themselves the character of civi-
lized nations. It will readily be admitted, by
most of my readers, that the dispositions display-
ed in tiie instances I have selected, are all directly
repugnant to the principle of benevolence recog-
nized in the divine law, and tend to undermine
the happiness of intelligent beings. — I shall now
conclude with a very brief sketch of the conduct
of Christians, and of Christian societies toward
jach other, and of the leading traits of character
which appear in the religious world.

SECTION IV.

Moral state of the itiofessing christian world.

I HAVE already endeavored to show, that Chris-
tianity is a religion oilove; that its facts, its doc-
trines, and its moral precepts, are all calculated to
promote "peace on earth," and to form mankind
into one affectionate and harmonious society.
This glorious and happy effect, in the first in-
stance, it actually produced. We are lold, in the
history of the Apostles, that the multitudes who

energies in preserving tlie .ivesofhnn(lreds,an<l in prcvenfin?
the aniuiih of tlioiisands, otiglit not to he suffered to sink
into ohiivion, or to pass unrewarded. It is, I presume, one

eason among others, why virtue is so little practiced, that it

s seldom rewarded according to its merit.

were converted to the Christian faith, by the pow-
erful sermons delivered by Peter on the day of
Pentecost, had their malignant propensities sub-
dued, and their minds animated with an ardent
alfection for each other ; and, as a practical proo
of the oj)eration of this noble principle, " they had
all things common, and sold their possessions and
goods, and parted them to all, as every man had
need." During the early ages of Christianity, a
goodly portion of the same spiiit was manifested
by the gieator part of those who had enrolled them-
selves as the discii)les of Christ. Even in the
midst of the reproaches, and t!ie severe persecu-
tions to which they were subjected during tha
two first centuries of the Christian era, a meek
and forgiving disposition, and a spirit of benevo-
lence toward one another, and toward all men,
distinguished them from the heathen around, and
constrained even their enemies to exclaim, "Be-
hold how these Christians love one another I" —
But no sooner was the Christian Church amalga-
mated with the kingdoms of this world, in the
reign of Constantine, than its native purity began
to be tainted, and Pagan maxims, and worldly
ambition began to be blended with the pure pre-
cepts and the sublime doctrines of the Gospel.
Many of its professed adherents, overlooking the
grand practical bearings of the Christian system,
began to indulge in vain speculations on its mys-
terious doctrines ; to substitute a number of un-
meaning rites and ceremonies in the room of love
to God and to man ; and even to prosecute and
destroy all those who refused to submit to their
opinions and decisions. Pride, and a desire of
domination, usurped the place of meekness and
humility; and the foolish mummeries of monastic
superstition, and the austerities of the Ascetics,
were substituted in the room of the active duties
of justice and benevolence. Saints were deified ;
the power of the clei-gy was augmented; celibacy
was extolled ; religious processions were appoint-
ed ; pilgrimages were undertaken to the tombs of
the martyrs ; monasteries and nunneries, without
number, were erected ; prayers were offered up to
departed saints ; the Virgin Mary was recognized
as a species of inferior deity; the sign of the cross
was venerated as capable of securing victory in all
kinds of trials and calamities, and as the surest de-
fense against the influence of malignant spirits ;
the bishops aspired after wealth, magnificence,
and splendor ; errors in religion were punished
with civil penalties and bodily tortures ; and the
most violent disputes and contentions convulsed
every section of the Christian world ; while the
mild and beneficent virtues of the religion of
Jesus were either discarded, or thrown into the
shade.

Of these, and similar dispositions and practices,
details might be exhibited which would fill many
volumes, and which would carry conviction to
every impartial mind, that the true glory of Chris-
tianity was sadly tarnished and obscured, and its
heavenly spirit almost extinguished amidst the
mass of superstitious observances, of vain specula-
tions, and of angry feuds and contentions. Mil-
lot, when adverting to the state of the Church in
the days of Constantine and the succeeding empe-
rors, justly remarks: "The disciples of Christ
were inspired with mutual feuds, still more im-
placable and destructive than the factions which
were formed for or against different emjierors
The spirit of contention condemned by St. Paul
became almost universal. New sects sprung up
incessantly, and combated each other. Each
boasted its apostles, gave its spphisms for divine
oracles, pretended to be the depository of the faith,

130

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

and used every effort to draw the multitude to its
standard. Tlio cliurcii was tilled wilh discord ;
bishoiis aiiutliennitizcd bishops; violence was called
in to ttie ai.i of argument, ami the lolly of princes
fafiued the flarno whicii spread with so destructive
rage. They played the 'theologists, attempted to
command opinions, and punished those whom
they coul.l not convince. The laws against
idolaters were soon extended to heretics ; but
what one emperor proscribed as heretical, was to
another sound doctrine. What was the conse-
quence ? The clergy, whose influence wtis al-
ready great at court, and still greater among tlio
people, began to withdraw from the sovereign au-
thority that respect which religion inspires. The
popular frments being hightened by t!ic ani-
mosity of the clergy, prince, country, law, and
duty, were no longer regarded. Men were Ari-
aus, Donalists, Priscillianists, Nestorians, Enty-
ciiiaus, Monotholites, &c., but no longer citizens ;
or, rather, every man became the mortal enemy
of those cilizens whose opinions he condemned. —
This unlieard-of madness, for irreconcilable quar-
rels on subjects that ought to have been referred
to the judgment of the Church, never abated
amidst the most dreadful disasters. Every sect
formed a different party in the state, and their
mutual animosities conspired to sap its founda-
tions."*

At the period to which these observations refer,
it appears that two erroneous maxims generally
prevailed, which tended to undermine the moral
system of revelation, and which were productive
of almost all the tumults, massacres, and disasters,
which distinguished that era of the Christian
church. These were, 1. That religion consists
chiefly in the belief of certain abstract and incom-
prehensible dogmas, and in the performance of a
multitude of external rites and ceremonies: and,
2. That all heresies or differences of opinion on
religious points, ought to be extirpated by the
strong arm of the civil power. Than such maxims,
nothing can be more repugnant to reason, more
subversive of genuine morality, or more incon-
sistent with the spirit and genius of the Christian
religion. And yet, to this very hour, they are
recognized and acted upon by more than three
fourths of the Christian world, notwithstanding
the melancholy examples which history has fur-
nished of their futility, and their pernicious ten-
dency.— The narrow limits to which I am con-
fined will permit me to state only two or three
instances in reference to the period to which I
allude.

Theodosius, one of the emperors, who com-
menced his reign in the year 379, and who re-
ceived baptism during a dangerous distemper, in
the second year of it, professed great zeal in favor
of religion. By a law addressed to the people of
Constantinople, he enacted, "That all subjects
snail profess the catholic faith with regard to the
articles of the Trinity; and that they who do not
conform shall ignominiously be called heretics,
until they shall feel the vengeance of God and our
own, according as it shall please Divine provi-
dence to inspire us." He declared apostates and
Manicheans incapable of making a will, or receiv-
ing any legacy; and having pronounced them
worthy of death, the people thought they had a
right to kill them as proscribed persons. He en-
acted a law, condemning to the flames cousins
german who married without a special license from
the emperor. He established inquisitors for the

• Millot's Modern History, vol. I.

discovery of heretics. He drove the ManKvieans »
from Rome as infamous persons, and, on their
death, ordered their goods to be distributed among
the people. Yet, with all this religious zeal, he,
on one occasion, gave orders for a universal mas-
sacre at Thessalonica, because some persons of
distinction had been killed in a sedition at the
time of the races. The inhabitants were caused
to assemble in the circus, under the pretense of
an exhibition of games, and slaughtered without
distinction of age. Seven thousand, according to
some, and fifteen thousand according to others,
the greatest part unquestionably innocent, were
thus sacrificed to atrocious revenge.f Leo, an-
other emperor, "commanded every person to be
baptized, under pain of banishment, and made it
capital to relapse into idolatry, after the perform-
ance of the ceremony; " just as if Christians could
be made by a forced baptism, or by a law of the
state. Such edicts clearly showed, that, what-
ever zeal princes or the clergy might manifest
in favor of the Christian religion, they were
grosaly ignorant of its true spirit, and- of the
means by which its benevolent objects were to be
accomplished.

As a specimen of the manner in which such
edicts were sometimes carried into effect, the fol-
lowing instance may be stated. Hypatia, daugh-
ter of the celebrated Geometrician, Theon of
Alexandria, exceeded her father in learning, and
gave public lectures in Philosophy, with the great-
est applause; nor was she less admirable for the
purity of her virtue, joined to an uncommon
beauty, and every accomplishment that could
adorn human nature. But this excellent woman,
because she teas a Pagan, trusted by the magis-
trates and suspected to be active against St. Cyril,
the bishop, became an object of detestation to the
Christian multitude. A set of monks and despe-
radoes, headed by a priest, seized her in the open
street, hurried her into a church, where they
stripped her naked, tore her body with whips, cut
her in pieces, and publicly burned her mangled
limbs in the market place.J St. Cyril, who was
suspected of having fomented this tragedy, had
previously attacked the synagogues, and driven
out the Jews; their goods were pillaged, and seve-
ral persons perished in the tumult. Such con-
duct plainly demonstrates the tendency of the
human mind, in every situation, to abuse power
and' authority, for the purposes of persecution and
revenge; and shows us what false ideas the Chris-
tians of that period must have entertained of the
God of Mercy; and how soon they had forgotten
the sufferings which their fathers had so lately
endured, under the reign of the heathen emperors.

About this period, too, vain speculations about
abstruse and incomprehensible subjects, occupied
the attention of theologians, and engendered reli-
gious quarrels and disputes, which burst asunder
the bonds of affection and concord. A play of
words and vain subtleties, were substituted in
place of clear conceptions and substantial know-
ledge, which, instead of directing the faculties of
the human mind to their proper objects, tended
only to darken the light of reason, and to intro-
duce the long night of ignorance which soon suc-
ceeded. It was a prevailing madness among tne
Greek theologians, who were intractable in their
opinions, — and it is too much the case with cer-

* The distingnishing characteristic of the Manicheans
was, their recognizing the doctrine of two independent and
eternal principles, the one the author of all good, and the
other the author of all evil.

t Millot's Ancient History, vol. ii. J Ibid.,

ECCLESIASTICAL FEUDS.

181

tain modern divines, — to dispute about incompre-
hensible mysteries, to render them more obscure
by their attempts to expluin them, and perpetual-
ly to revive the most dangerous conlei'.fions. The
Arians rejected the Divinity of the Word, in or-
der to maintiin the unity of God; — the Nostorians
denied tliat Mary is the mother of God, and gave
twopersoiis to Jesus Christ, to support the opinion
of liis having two natures; — the Eutycliians, to
maintain the unity of the person, confounded
the two natures into one. This heresy became
divided into ten or twelve branches; some of the
sections maintaining that Jesus Ciirist was merely
a phantom, or appearance of flesh, but no real
flesh. The Mouotholites maintained, that there
was only one will in Clirist, as they could not
conceive two free wills to exist in the same per-
son. Another sect maintained, that the body of
Christ was incorruptible, and that from tlie mo-
ment of his conception, he was incapable of
change, and of sufleiing. This chimera Justinian
attempted to establish by an edict. He banished
the Patriarch Eutychius, and several other pre-
lates, who opposed his sentiments; and was pro-
ceeding to tyrannize over the consciences of men
with more violence than ever, when death inter-
posed, and transported him to another scene of
existence. — In such vain and preposterous dis-
putes as these, were the minds of professed Chiis-
tians occupied, notwithstanding the perils witii
which they were then environed. Councils were
held, to determine the orthodox side of a question;
anathemas were thundered against those who re-
fused to acquiesce in their decisions; princes in-
terposed their authority, and the civil sword was
unsheathed to compel men to believe what they
could not understand; — while the substantial
truths of religion were overlooked, and its moral-
ity disregarded. — " Religion," says Millot, " in-
ftj'ires us with a contempt of earthly vanities, a
di testi^tion of vice, and indulgence for the frailties
»f cur neigiibor; invincible patience in misfor-
tunes, and compassion for the unhappy; it in-
spires us with charity and heroic courage; and
tends to sanctify every action in common and so-
cial life. How sublime and comforting the idea
it gives of the Divinity! What confidence in his
justice and infinite mercy! What encouragement
for the exercise of every virtue! Wherefore, then,
Bucn errors and excesses on religious pretenses?
It is because heresy, shooting up under a thousand
different forms, incessantly startles the faith by
subtleness and sophistry, by which almost the
whole energy of men's minds is absorbed in the
contest. Disputes engender hatred; from liatred
springs every excess; and virtue, exhausted with
words and cabals, loses her whole power." — How
happy would it be, and how glorious for the cause
of gencine Christianity, were the present genera-
tion of Christians to profit by the sad experience
of the \isV.

As w.< advance in the history of the Christian
church, through the middle ages, the prospect
appears still more dark and gloomy. The human
mind, at that period, appeared to have lost its
usual energy, and its powers of discrimination;
the light of reason seemed almost extinguished;
sophisms, and absurdities of all kinds, were greedi-
ly swallowed; and superstition displayed itself in
a thousand diversified forms. Morality was in a
manner smothered under a heap of ceremonies
and arbitrary observances, which acquired the
name of devotion. Relics, pilgrimages, offerings,
and pious legacies, were thought capable of open-
ing the gate of heaven to the most wicked of
men. The Virgin Mary, and the souls of depart-

Vol. I.— 25

ed saints, were invoked; splendid churclics were
erected to their honor; their assistance was en-
treated with many fervent prayers; while the me-
diation of Jesus Chtistwas thrown into the shade,
and almost disregarded. An irresistible efticacy
was attributed to the bones of martyrs, and to the
figuie of the cross, in defeating the attempts of
Satan, in removing all sorts of calamities, and in
healing the diseases both of the body and of the
mind. Works of piety and benevolence were
vicv^ed as consisting chiefly in building and em-
bellishing churches and chapels; in endowing
monasteries; in hunting after the relics of mar-
tyrs; in procuring the intercession of saints, by
rich oblations; in worshiping images; in pilgrim-
ages to lioly places; in voluntary acts of morti-
fication; in solitary masses; and in a variety of
similar services, which could easily be reconciled
with the commission of the most abominable
crimes. So that the worship of " the God and
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ," was exchanged
for the worship of bones, hair, fragments of fin-
gers and toes, tattered rugs, images of saints, and
bits of rotten wood, supposed to be the relics of
the cross. The dubbing of saints became a fruit-
ful source of frauds and abuses tiiroughout the
Christian world; lying wonders were invented,
and fabulous histories composed, to celebrate ex-
ploits that were never performed, and to glorify
persons that never had a being, and absolution
from the greatest crimes could easily be procured,
either by penance, or by money.

The absurd principle, that Religion consists in
acts of austerity, produced the most extravagant
beliavior in certain devotees, and reputed saints.
They lived among the wild beasts; they ran naked
through the lonely deserts, with a furious aepect,
and with all the agitations of madness and frenzy;
they prolonged their wretched lives, by grass and
wild herbs; avoided the sight and conversation of
men, and remained almost motionless for several
years, exposed to the rigor and inclemency of the
seasons; — and all this was considered as an accept-
able method of worshiping the Deity, and of at-
taining a share in his favor. — But of all the in-
stances of superstitious frenzy, which disgraced
those times, none was held in higher veneration
than that of a certain order of men, who obtained
the name of Pillar saints. These were persons
of a most singular and extravagant turn of mind,
who stood motionless on the tops of pillars, ex-
pressly raised for this exercise of their patience,
and remained there for several years, amidst the
admiration and applause of a stupid and wonder-
ing populace. This strange superstitious practice
began in the fifth century, and continued in the
East for more than six hundred years. — To the
same principle are to be attributed the revolting
practices of the Flagellants, a sect of fanatics
who chastised themselves with whips in public
places. Numbers of persons of this description,
of all ages and sexes, made processions, walking
two by two, with their shoulders bare, which they
whipped until the blood ran down in streamlets;
in order to obtain mercy from God, and appease
his indignation against the wickedness of the age.
They held, among other things, that flagellation
was of equal virtue with baptism, and the other
sacraments; that the forgiveness of all sins was
to be obtained by it, without the merits of Jesus
Christ; that the old law of Christ was soon to bo
abolished, and that a new law, enjoining the bap-
tism of blood, to be administered by whipping,
was to be substituted in its place.

The enormous power conferred on the minister$
of religion was another source of immorality a^d

132

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

•f the grentest excesses. The pope and the clerp'y
reigneil over nutnkiiid without control, and mado
thein.selves iniist-rs of ahnost all the wealth of
every conntiy in Europe. They were immersed
in crimes of the deepest dye; and the laity, ima-
gining themselves able to purchase the pardon of
tiieir ^iiis for money, followed tlie example of their
pastors without remorse. The most violent con-
tentions, animosities, and hatr^^d, reigned among
the dirterent orders of monks, and between the
clergy of all ranks and degrees. " Instead of con-
secrating ecclesiastical censures solely to spiritual
purposes, they converted them into a weapon for
defending their privileges, and supporting their
pretensions. Tiie priesthoo.i, which was princi-
pally designed to bless, was most frequently em-
ployed in ciirsiiiff. Exconiinnnication was made
the instrument of (lamninff, instead of samiig
Bouls, and was inflicted according to the dictates
of policy or of revenge." The great and the
noble, and even kings and emperors, were excom-
municated, when it was designed to rob, or to
enslave them; and this invisible engine, which
they wielded with a powerful and a sovereign
hand, was used to foment dissensions between the
nearest relatives, and to Jvindle the most bloody
wars. The generality of priests and monks kept
wives and concubines, without shame or scruple,
and even the papal throne was the seat of de-
baucher J' and vice. The possessions of the church
were either sold to the highest bidder, or turned
into a patrimony for the bastards of the incum-
bents. Marriages, wills, contracts, the interests
of families and of courts, the state of the living
and the dead, were all converted into instruments
for promoting their credit, and increasing their
riches. It was, therefore, a necessary result from
such a state of things, that vices of every descrip-
tion abounded, that morals were ruined, and that
the benevolence of the divine law was trampled
under foot.

The theological speculations in which tliey in-
dulged, corresponded to the degrading practices to
which I have adverted, and tended to witiidraw
the mind from the substantial realities both of sci-
ence and of religion. Sophisms and falsehoods
were held forth as demonstrations. They at-
tempted to argue after they had lost the rules of
common sense. The cultivation of letters was
neglected; eloquence consisted in futile declama-
tions; and philosophy was lost in the abyss of
scholastic and sophistical theology. " They at-
tempted to penetrate into mysteries, and to decide
questions which the limited faculties of the human
mind are unable to comprehend or to resolve;"
and such vain speculations they endeavored to
incorporate into the sj-stem of religion, and to
render theology a subject of metaphysical refine-
ment, and of endless controversy. A false logic
was introduced, which subtilized upon words, but
gave no idea of things; which employed itself in
nice and refined distinctions concerning objects
and operations which lie beyond the reach of
human uiuierstanding, which confounded every-
thing by attempting to analyze everything, and
v/hich opened an arena for men of fiery zeal to
kindle the flame of controversy, and to give birth
to numerous heresies. The following are a few
instances, out of many, which might be produced,
of the questions and controversies which occupied
the attention of bishops and seraphical doctors,
and gave rise to furious contentions: — ^Whether
the conception of the Blessed Virgin was imma-
imlate? Whether Mary should be denominated
the Mother of God, or the Mother of Christ?
W nether the bread and wine used in the eucha-

rist were digested? In what manner the will of
Christ operated, and whether he had one will or
two? Whether the Holy Ghost proceeded from
the Father and Son, or only from the Father?
Whether leavened or unleavened bread ought to
be used in the eucharist? Whether souls in their
intermediate state see God, or only the human
nature of Christ ? It was disputed between the
Dominicans and the Franciscans, Whether Christ
had any property? The Pope pronounced the
negative proposition to be a pestilential and blas-
])hemous doctrine, subversive of catholic faith.
Many councils were held at Constantinople, to
determine what sort of light it was the disciples
saw on Mount Tabor : it was solemnly pro-
nounced to be the eternal light with which God
is encircled; and which may be termed his energy
or operation, but is distinct from his nature and
essence. The disputes respecting the real pre-
sence of Christ in the eucharist, led to this absurd
conclusion, which came to be universally admitted
— " That the substance of the bread and wine
used in that ordinance is changed into the real
body and blood of Christ ;" and consequently,
when a man eats what has the appearance of a
wafer, he really and truly eats the bodij and blood,
the soul and divinity of Jesus Christ; and when he
afterward drinks what has the appearance of
wine, he drinks the very same body and blood,
soul and divinity, which, perhaps, not a minute
before, he liad tchilly and entirely eaten! — At the
period to which I now allude, the authenticity of a
suspected relic was proved by bulls — councils as-
sembled and decided upon the authority of forged
acts with regard to the antiquity of a saint, or the
place where his body was deposited; and a bold
impostor needed only to open his mouth, to per-
suade the multitude to believe whatever he pleased.
To feed upon animals strangled or unclean, to eal
flesh on Tuesday, eggs and cheese on Friday, to
fast on Saturday, or to use unleavened bread in
the service of the mass — were, by some, con-
sidered as indispensable duties, and by others, as
vile abominations. In short, the history of this
period is a reproach to the human understanding;
an insult oflered to the majesty of reason and of
science, and a libel on the benevolent spirit which
breathes through the whole of the Christian sys-
tem.*

* As a striking instance of the folly and imbecility of the
human mind at this period, it may be noticed, that in seve-
ral churches in France they celebrated a festival in com-
memoration of the Virgin Mary's flight info Egypt, which
was called the Feast of the Jlss. A young girl richly dress-
ed, with a child in her arms, was set upon an ass richly ca-
parisoned. The ass was led to the altar in solemn proces-
sion. High mnss was said with great pomp. The ass was
taught to knee! at proper places; a hymn, no less childish
than impious, was sung in his praise; and when the cere-
mony was ended, the priest, instead of the usual words with
which he dismissed the people, hrayed three times like an
ass, and the people, instead of the usual response, " We
bless the Lord," A/-«.i/crf in the same manner. This ridicu-
lous ceremony was not a mere farcical entertainment; but an
act of drvotion, performed by the ministers of religion, and hy
the avthoritii of the Church. — Robertson's History of Charles
V, vol. I.-In accordance with such ceremonies were the nieas
wiiich prevailed of the foolish qualifications requisite to con-
stitute a good Christian. "He is a good Christian," says St.
Eloy, a canonized saint of the Romish chur h; "who comei
frequently to church; who presents the oblatif ii offered to God
upon the altar; who doth not taste of the fru.ts of his own in-
dustry until he has consecrated a part of them to G'jd: who
when the holy festivals approach, lives chastely even with hii
own wife during several days, that with a safe conscience he
may draw near to the altar of God; and who, m the last
place, can repeat the Creed and the Lord's prayer. Redeem,
then, your souls from destruction, while yon have the means
in your power; offer presents and tithes to churchmen; come
more frequently to church; humbly implore the patronage
of the saints; for if yon observe these things, yon may come
with security in the day of retribntion to the tribunal of tb«

THE INQUISITION.

138

Nothing can be conceived more directly repug-
nant to tiie benevolence wliich the religion of
Jesus inculcates, than the temper and conduct of
tliose who arrogated to themselves the character
of being God's vicegerents on earth, and who
assumed the supreme direction and control of the
Christian church. In persons who laid claim to
functiiins so sacred and divine, it might have been
expecled, that the appearance at least, of piety,
humility, and benevolence, wouUl have been ex-
hibited before the eyes of the Christian world.
But the history of the popes and their satellites,
displaj's almost everything which is directly op-
posed to such heavenly virtues. Their avarice,
extortion, and licentiousness, became intolerable
and excessive, almost to a proverb. To extend
their power over the kingdoms of this world, to
increase their wealth and revenues, to live in opu-
lence and splendor, to humble kings, to alienate the
aiTections of their subjects, and to riot in the lap of
luxury and debauchery, seemed to be the great ob-
jects of their ambition. Instead of acting as the
heralds of mercj', and the ministers of peace, they
tliundered anathemas against all who called in
question their authority, kindled the flames of dis-
cord and of civil wars, armed subjects against their
sovereigns, led forth hostile armies to the battle, and
filled Europe with confusion, devastation, and car-
nage. Instead of applying the mild precepts of
Christianity, and interposing the authority they
had acquired for reconciling enemies, and subdu-
ing the jealousies of rival monarchs, they delighted
to widen the breach of friendship, and to fan the
flame of animosity and di.scord. Dr. Robertson,
when adverting to the personal jealousies of Francis
I, and Charles V, remarks, " If it had been in the
power of the Pope to engage them in hostilities,
without rendering Lombardy the theater of war, no-
thing would have been more agreeable to him than
to see them waste each other's strength in endless
quarrels."* The Son of man came into the world,
not to destroy men's lives, but to save them; but,
in such instances, we behold his pretended vicars,
preparing and arranging the elements of discord,
laj'ing a train for the destruction of thousands and
tens of thousands, and Uiking a diabolical delight
in contemplating the feud?, the massacres, and
the miseries which their infernal policy had cre-
ated. The decrees of the papal throne, instead
of breathing the mildness and benevolence of
Jesus, became thundering curses, and sanguinary
laws, and a set of frantic enthusiasts, or a lawless

eternal Judge, and say, ' Give to u?, O Lord, for we have
given unto thee.'" — Here we have an ample desrripiion of a
good Christian, in wliith there is not the lea^t mention of the
love of God, of resignation to his will, ohedienee to his laws,
or of justice, henevolence, or charity toward men. — Mo-
iheim s Cliurch ilistori/.

Tiie following are the terms in which Tetzel and his asso-
ciates descrilie the benefit of indulgences, about the begin-
ning of the ICth century, a little before the era of the refor-
mation. "If any man," said they, "purchase letters of in-
dulgence, his soul may rest secure with respect to its salva-
tion. The souls confined in jiurgatory, for whose redemp-
tion indulgences are purchased, as soon as the money tinkles
in the chest, instantly escape from that place of torment, and
ascend into heaven. The efiicaoy of indulgences were so great
that the most heinous sins, even if one sfiouM violate [which
was impossible] the Mother of God, would he remitted and
expiated by them, and the person be free both from punish-
ment and guilt. That this was the unspeakable gift of God,
in order to reconcile men to himself That the cross erected
by the pceachers of indulgences, was as efficacions as the
erOBs of Christ itself Lol the heavens are open, if you en-
ter not now, when will you enter? For twelve pence you
may redeem the soul of your father ont of purgatory, and
are you so nngratefiil that you will not rescue your parent
from torment? If you had but one coat, you ought to strip
yourself instantly and sell i), in order to purchase such bene-
fits," &c. — Ro'jcrU9n'j Charles V, vol. ii.

* Robertson's Charles V, vol. ii.

banditti, were frequently appointed to carry them
into eft'ect.

Not contented with the insurrections and the
desolations they had produced among the Euro-
pean nations, they planned an expedition for the
purpose of massacring the inhabitants of Asia,
and ravaging their country. Urban II, about A.
D. 1095, traveled from province to province, levy-
ing troops, even without the ccaisent of their
princes; preaching up the doctrine of "destruc-
tion to the infidels;" and commanding the peo-
ple, in the name of God, to join in the holy war.
St. Bernard ran from town to town haranguing
the multitude, performing pretended miracles,,
and inducing all ranks, from the emperor to the
peasant, to enroll themselves under the banners
of the cross. Peter the Hermit, a man of a hide-
ous figure and aspect, covered with rags, walking
barefooted, .and speaking as a prophet, inspired
the people everywhere with an enthusiasm similar
to his own. Thou.sands of wicked and abandon-
ed debauchees were thus collected ; bishops, priests,
monks, women and children, were all enrolled in
the holy army. A plenary absolution of all their
sins was promised: and if they died in the con-
test, they were assured of a crown of martyrdom
in the world to coine. With hearts burning with
fnry and revenge, this army of banditti, without
discipline or provisions, marched in wild confu-
sion through the eastern parts of Europe, and, at
every step of their progress, committed the most
dreadful outrages. So inveterate was their zeal
against the Jews, wherever they were found, that
many of those unfortunate beings, both men and
women, murdered their own children, in the mid»t
of the despair to which they were driven by these
infuriated madmen; and when they arrived at
Jerusalem, and had taken that city by assault,
they suffered none of the infidels to escape the
slaughter. Such was the way in \A'hich the suc-
cessors of the Apostle Peter displayed their gene-
ral benevolence, and their love to the souls and
bodies of men.

The establishment of the Inquisition, is another
mode in which the tyranny and cruelty of the
Romish church has been displayed. This court
was founded in the 12th century, by Father Do-
minic, and his followers, who were sent by Pope
Innocent III, vvitli orders to excite the Catholic
princes and people to extirpate heretics. It is
scarcely possible to conceive any institution more
directly opposed to the dictates of justice and hu-
manity, to the genius of Christianity, and to the
meekness and gentleness of Christ, than this in-
fernal tribunal. The proceedings against the un-
happy victims of this court, are conducted ivith
the greatest secrecy. The person granted them
as counsel is not permitted to converse with them,
except in the presence of the Inquisitors; and,
when they communicate the evidence to the
accused persons, they carefully conceal from them
the names of the aufliors. The prisoners are kept
for a long time, until they themselves, through the
application of the torture, turn their own accusers;
for they are neither told their crime, nor con-
fronted with witnesses. When there is no shadow
of proof against the pretended criminal, he is dis-
charged, after suffering the most cruel tortures, a
tedious and dreadful imprisonment, and the los»
of the greatest part of his effects. When he ia
convicted and condemned, he is led in procession,
with other unfortunate beings, on the festival of
the Auto (la ft, to the place of execution. He is
clothed with a garment, painted with flames, and
with his own figure, surrounded with dogs, ser-
pents, and devils, all open-roouthed, as if ready to

134

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

devour liim. Such of tho prisoners as declare
tl'at tliey dio in the conimunion of the cliiircli of
Eoino, iiro first strangled, ami tlion burned to
ashes. Those who die in any other faith, are
burned alive. The priests tell them, that they
leave tliein to the devil, who is standing at their
elbow, to receive their souls, and carry them with
him into tho flames of hell. Flaming furzes,
fastened to long poles, are then thrust against tlieir
faces, until their faces are burned to a coal, which
is accompanied with the loudest acclamations of
joy, among the thousands of spectators. At lust
fire is set to the furze at the bottom of the stake,
over which the criminals are chained so high,
that the top of the flame seldom reaches higher
tluui the seat they sit on; so that they seem to be
roaMeit ratlier than burned. There cannot be a
more lamentable spectacle; the sufferers continu-
ally cry out, while they are able, "Pity, for the
lovo oV God;" yet it is beheld by all sexes and
ages, with transports of joy and satisfaction; and
even the monarch, surrounded by his courtiers,
has sometimes graced the scene with his presence,
imagining that he was performing an act highly
acceptable to the Deity!!*

And what are the heinous crimes for which
such dreadl'ul punishments are prepared? Per-
haps notliingmore than reading a book which has
been denounced as heretical bj' the holy office,
such as " Raynal's History of the Indies," — as-
suming the title of a freemason — irritating a priest
or mendicant friar — uttering the language of free-
thinkers— declaiming against the celibacy of the
clergy — insinuating hints or suspicions respecting
their amours and debaucheries — or throwing out
a joke to the dishonor of the Virgin Mary, t — or,
at most, holding the sentiments of a Mahometan,
of a Jew, or the followers of Calvin or Luther.
In tho year 1725, the Inquisition discovered a
family of Moors at Grenada, peaceably employed
in maimfacturing silks, and possessing superior
skill in the exercise of this profession. The an-
cient laws, supposed to have fallen into disuse,
were enforced in all their rigor, and tlie wretched
family leas burnt alive, i On the entry of the
French into Toledo, during the late Peninsular
war. General Lasalle visited the palace of the In-
quisition. The great number of instruments of
torture, especially the instruments to stretch the
limbs, and the drop-baths, which cause a lingering
death, excited horror, even in the minds of sol-
diers hardened in the field of battle. One of these
instruments, singular in its kind for refined tor-
ture, and disgraceful to humanity and religion,
deserves particular description. In a subterrane-
ous vault adjoining to the audience chamber,
stood, in a recess in the wall, a wooden statue
made by the hands of monks, representing the
Virgin Mary. A gilded glory beamed round her
head, and she held a standard in her right hand.
Notwithstanding the ample folds of the silk gar-
ment which fell from her shoulders on both sides,
it appeared that she wore a breastplate; and, upon
a closer examination, it was found, that the whole

•See Ency. Brit., Art. JJct of faith, .ind Tnquisition, a.ni
Bourgoiqg's " Modern State of Spain," Vol. I. The " In-
gtnictions tor the office of the holy Inquisition "iven at Tob-
da in 1501," may be seen in the jjppcndix. to " Peyron's
Essays on Spain," which forms the fourth volume of Bour-
going's work.

tThe Chevalier de St. Gervais, was imprisoned in the In-
quisition on the following occasion. — A mendicant having
eome to his chamber, with a purse, begged liim to contribute
•omelhing for the lights or tapers to be liglited in honor of
the Viririn, he replied, " My good father, the Virgin has no
need ot lights, she need onlv go to bed at an earlier hour." '

t Bourgoing's State of Spaia, Vol. I, p 349. i

front of the body was covered with extremely
sharp nails, and small daggers, or blades of knives,
with the points projecting outward. The arms
and hands had joints, and their motions were
directed by machinery, placed behind tlie parti-
tion. One of the servants of the Inquisition was
ordered to make the machine maneuver. As the
statue extended its arms, and gradually drew them
back, as if she would afFectiouately embrace, and
press some one to her heart, the well-filled knap-
sack of a Polish grenadier supplied for this time
the place of the poor victim. The statue pressed
it closer and closer; and when the tlirector of the
machinery made it open its arms Snd return to its
first position, the knapsack was pierced two or
three inches deep, and reinained hanging upoa
the nails and daggers of the murderous instru-
ment.

This infamous tribunal is said to have caused,
between the years 1481 and 1759, 34,658 persons
to be burnt alive; and between 1481 and 1808, to
have sentenced 288,214 to the galleys, or to per-
petual imprisonment.* In the Auto of Toledo,
in February, 1501 , 67 women were delivered over
to the flames for Jewish practices. The same
punishment was inflicted on 900 females for being
ivitches, in the Duchy of Lorraine, by one Inqui-
sitor alone. Under this accusation, upward of
thirty thousand women have perished by the hands
of the Inquisition, t Torquemada, that infernal
inquisitor of Spain, brought into the Inquisition,
in the space of 14 years, no fewer than 80,000
persons; of whom 6000 were condemned to the
flames, and burned alive with the greatest pomp
and exultation; and, of that vast number, there
was perhaps not a single person who was not
more pure in religion, as well as morals, than
their outrageous persecutors. % — Has the Deity,
then,' whom the Inquisition professes to servo,
such a voracious appetite for the blood of human
victims? Has that benevolent Being, who maketh
his sun to cheer the habitations of the wicked af
well as of the righteous, and whose " tender mer-
cies are over all his works" — commissioned sucfc
bloodthirsty monsters to act as his ministers of
vengeance, and to torment and destroy the ra-
tional creatures he has formed ? The verj
thought is absurd and blasphemous in the highest
degree. All his beneficent operations in creation
around us, and all the gracious promises am
declarations of his word, stand directly opposec
to such hellish practices, and condemn the perpe-
trators as audacious rebels against the divine gov
ernment, and as nuisances in the universe o'
God.

The numerous Massacres which, in diiFeren*
ages, have taken place, on account of religiour
opinions, is another revolting and melancholy
trait in the character of the professfed votaries o£
the Christian cause. Of these, the massacre of
the Protestants in France on the feast of St. Bar-
tholomew, on the 24th August, 1572, was perhaps,
one of the most diabolical acts of perfidy, injus-
tice, and cruelty, which have stained the charac..
ter of our race. Everything was atrocious and
horrible in this unexampled conspiracy and assas-
sination; feelings of the most sacred nature were
annihilated; religious zeal was changed into an
impious frenzy; and filial piety degenerated into
sanguinary fury. Under the direction of the in-
famous Duke of Guise, the soldiers t^nd the popu-
lace en masse, at the signal of the tolling of a bell,

• Histoire Abregee de I'Tnqnisition.

t " The Inquisition Unmasked." By Antonio Pnigblancb

i Kaim's Sketches, Vol. IV.

BARTHOLOMEW MASSACRE.

135

flow to arms, seizing every weapon that presented
itself; and then rushing in crowds to every quar-
ter of the eity of Fitris, — no sound was iieard but
the liorrible cry, Kill the Huguenots'. Every one
suspected of being a Calvinist, witiiout any dis-
tinction of rank, ago, or sex, was indiscriminately
niassucred. The air resounded with tlie horrid
dies and blasphemous imprecations of the mur-
derers, the pi rcing shri^-ks of the wounded, and
the groans of the dying. Headless trunks were
every instant precipitateil from the windows into
the conrt-yar.ls, or the streets; the gate-ways
were chok''d up with the bodies of the dead and
dying, and the stn-ets p'esonted a spectacle of
mangled limbs, and of human bodies, dragged by
their butchers in order to be thrown into the
Sciiie. Palaces, hotel?, and public buildings, were
wreaking with blood; the image of death and
desolation reigned on every side, and under the
most hideous appearances; and in all quarters,
carts were seen loaded with dead bodies, destined
to be cast into the river, whoso waters were for
several days sullied by tides of human gore. The
infuriated assas*iisis, urged on by the cry, that
" It was the king's will tliat the very last of this
T«ce of vipers should be crushed and killed," be-
came furious in the slaughter; in proof of which,
one Cruce, p jeweler, displaying his naked and
bloody arn): vaunted aloud, that he had cut the
throats of more than 400 Huguenots in one day.
During this horrid period, every species of the
■nost '-s'lned cruelty became exhausted; theweak-
!»ess 3( infancy proved no impediment to the im-
ou'se of ferocity; children of ten years, exercis-
«g the first homicidal deed, were seen committing
he most barbarous acts, and cutting the throats
»f infants in their swaddling clothes! The number
of victims thus slaughtered in the city of Paris,
»mounted to above six thousand; and, in the
provinces, at the same time, there perished about
Bixty thousand souls. And, what is still more
shocking, the news of this massacre was welcom-
ed at Rome with the most lively transports of joy.
The Cardinal of Lorraine gave a large reward to
the courier: and interrogated him upon the S'ub-
ject, in a manner that demonstrated he had been
previously aware of the intended catastrophe.
The cannons were fired, bonfires were kindled,
and a solemn mass was celebrated, at which Pope
Gregory XHL assisted, with all the splendor
which that court is accustomed to display on
events of the most glorious and important conse-
quences I*

The horrid practice of Dragooning, which was
used by Papists, for converting supposed heretics,
was another melancholy example of religious
cruelty and frenzy. In the reign of Louis XIV,
of France, his troopers, soldiers, and dragoons,
entered into the houses of the Protestants, where
they marred and defaced their household stuff,
broke their looking-glasses, let their wine run
about their cellars, tlirew about and trampled under
fool their provisions, turned their dining-rooms
into stables for their horses, and treated the owners
with the highest indignity and cruelty. They
bound to posts mothers that gave suck, and let
their sucking infants lie languishing in their
eight for several days and nights, crying, mourn-
ing, and gasping for life. Some they bound be-
lore a great fire, and after they were half roasted,
let them go. Some they hung up by the hair, and

some by the feet, in chimneys, and smoked them,
with wisps of wet hay until they were suffocated
Women and maids were hung up by their feet,
or by their arm-pits, and exposed stark naked to
public view. Some they cut and slashed with
knives, and after strii)ping them naked, stuck
their bodies with plus and needles from head to
foot; and, with red hot pinchers, took hold of them
by the nose and other parts of the body, and
dragged them about the rooms until they made
them promise to be Catholics, or until the cries of
these miserable wretches, calling upon God for
help, induced them to let them go. If anj', to
escajje these barbarities, endeavored to save them-
selves by flight, they pursued them into the fields
and woods, where they shot at them, as if they
had been wild beasts; and prohibited them frora
departing the kingdom, upon pain of the galleys,
the lash, and perpetual imprisonment. On such
scenes of desolation and horror, the Popish clergy
feasted their eyes, and made them only a matter
of laughter and of sport.* — What a striking con-
trast to the benevolence of the Deity, whom they
impiously pretended to serve! Could an American
savage have devised more barbarous and infernal
cruelties?

In the civil wars, on account of religion, which
happened in France, in tlie beginning of the 17th
century, above a million of men lost their liv€s,
and nine cities, 400 villages, 2000 churches, 2000
monasteries, and 10,000 houses were burned or
destroyed, during their continuance; beside the
many thousands of men, women, and children,
that were cruelly butchered; and 150,000,000
of livres were spent in carrying forward these
slaughters and devastations. It is said of Louia
XIII, who carried on these wars, by one of his
biographers and panegj'rists, Madame de Motte-
ville, that, " what gave him the greatest pleasure,
was his thought of driving heretics out of the king-
dom, and thereby purging the different religions
which corrupt and infect the church of G(3d." +
In tha Netherlands alone, from the time that the
edict of Charles V, was promulgated against the
reformers, more than 100,000 persons were hang-
ed, beheaded, buried alive, or burned on account
of religion. The prisons were crowded with sup-
posed heretics; and the gibbet, the scaffold, and
the stake, filled every heart with horror. The
Duke of Alva, and his bloody tribunal, spread
universal consternation through these provinces;
and, though the blood of eighteen thousand per-
sons, who, in five years, had been given up to the
executioner for heresy, cried for vengeance on
this persecutor, and his adherents, yet they gloried
in their cruelty. Philip II, in whose reign these
atrocities were committed, hearing one day, that
thirty persons at least had a little before been
burned at an auto da fe, requested that a like
execution might be performed in his presence;
and he beheld with joy forty victims devoted to
tormeuts and to death. One of them, a man of
distinction, requesting a pardon, "No," replied
he, coldly, "were it my own son. I would give
him up to the flames, if he obstinately persisted
in here5y."t

Even in our own island, the flames of religious
persecution have sometimes raged with unrelent-
ing fury. During two or three years of the short
reign of Queen Mary, it was computed that 277
persons were committed to the flames, besido

• See a late publication entitled " Memoirs of Henry the
Great, and of the Court of France during his reign," '2 vols.
Bvo., in which is contained the fullest description of this
massacre which has appeared in our language.

• For a more particular account of such sceoos, see Eacy,
Brit., Article Dragooning,
t Molteville's Memoirs of Anne of Austria, Vol. i, p. 98.
j Millot's Modern History, vol. ii, p. 190.

136

TIIE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

those who were punished by fines, confiscations,
and imprisoiiineuts. Among those wlio suifcred
by fires wore five bishops, twenty-one clergymen,
eight hiy gentlemen, and eighty-four tradesmen;
one hundred husbandmen, fifty-five women, and
four cliildreu. And, a century and a iudf hUs
scarcely elapsed, since the Presiiyterians in Scot-
laud were hunted across moors and mosses, like
partridges of the wilderncs:-!, slaughtered by bands
of ruffian dragoons, and forced to seek their
spiritual food in dens, and mountains, and forests,
at tlie peril of their lives. Hunter, a young man
about nineteen years of age, was one of tlie un-
happy victims to the zeal for Papacy of Mary
queen of England. Having been inadvertently
betrayed by a priest, to deny the doctrine of
transubstantiation, he absconded to keep out of
harm's way. Bonner, that arch-hangman of Po-
pery, threatened ruin to the father if he did not
deliver up the young man. Hunter, hearing of
his father's danger, made his appearance, and was
burned alive, instead of being rewai'ded for his
filial piety. A woman of Guernsey was brought
to the stake, without regard to her advanced preg-
nancy, and she was delivered in the midst of the
flames. One of the guards snatched the infant
from the fire; but the magistrate, who attended
the execution, ordered it to be thrown back,
being resolved, he said, that nothing should
survive which sprung from a parent so obstinate-
ly heretical.*

AVhat a dreadful picture would it present of
the malignity of persons who have professed the
religion of Christ, were we to collect into one
point of view, all the persecutions, tortures, burn-
ings, massacres, and horrid cruelties, wiiich, in
Europe, and Asia, and even in the West Indies
and America, have been inflicted on conscientious
men for their firm adherence to what they con-
sidered as the truths of religion! When we con-
sider, on the one hand, the purity of morals, and
the purity of faith which generally distinguished
the victims of persecution; and, on the otlier, the
proud pampered priests, abandoned without sliame
to every species of wickedness, we can scarcely
find words sufficiently strong to express the in-
dignation and horror which arise in the mind,
when it views this striking contrast, and contem-
plates such scenes of impiety and crime. Could a
religion, which breathes peace and good-will from
heaven toward men, be more basely misrepre-
sented? or can the annals of our race present a
more striking display of the perversity and de-
pravity of mankind? To represent religion as
consisting in the belief of certain ijicomprehen-
sible dogmas, and to attempt to convert men to
Christianity, and to inspire them with benevo-
lence, by fire, and racks, and tortures, is as absurd
as it is impious and jjrofane; and represents the
Divine Being as delighting in the torments and
the death of sinners, rather than that they should
return and live. — But, without dwelling longer
on such reflections and details, I shall just present
an example or two of the moral state of Roman
Catholic countries, as a specimen of the effects to
which their system of religion naturally leads.

"By their fruits shall ye know them," says our
Saviour. Wherever religion is viewed as consist-
ing chiefly in the observance of a number of absurd
and unmeaning ceremonies, it is natural to expect
that the pure morality of the Bible will seldom be
exemplified in human conduct. This is strik-
ingly the case in those countries, both in Europe
and America, where the Catholic religion reigns

* Kai ai's Sketches vol. iv.

triumphant. — Mr. Howison, whose work, entitled
" Foreign Scenes," I formerly quoted, when
speaking of the priesthood in the island of Cuba,
says, "The number of priests in Havana exceeds
four hundred. With a few exceptions, they
neither deserve nor enjoy the respect of the com-
munity. However, no one dares openly to speak
against them. In Havana, the church is nearly
omnipotent, and every man feels himself under
its immediate jurisdiction. Most people, there-
fore, attend mass regularly, make confession, un-
cover, when passing a religious establishment of
any kind, and stand still in the streets, or stop
their volantos, the moment the vesper-bell begins
ringing. But they go no further; and the priests
do not seem at all anxious that the practice of
such individuals should correspond to their pro-
fession. The priests show, by their external ap-
pearance, that they do not practice those austeri-
ties which are generally believed to be necessary
concomitants of a monastic life. The sensual
and unmeaning countenances that enciicle the
altars of the churches, and the levity and indiffer-
ence with which the most sacred parts of the
service are hurried through, would shock and
surprise a Protestant, were he to attend mass with
the expectation of finding the monks, those so-
lemn and awe-inspiring persons, which people,
who have never visited Catholic countries, often
imagine them to be.

The following extract, from a late writer, ex-
hibits a specimen of the religion and of the moral
feelings of the NEArouTA.NS. " When Vesuvius
thunders aloud, or when an earthquake threatens
them with destruction — when fiery streams vomi-
ted from the roaring mouth of the volcano roll on,
carrying desolation over the plains below — when
the air is darkened by clouds of smoke, and show-
ers of ashes, the Neapolitans will fall on their
knees, fast, do penance, and follow the processions
barefooted ; but as soon as the roar has ceased,
the flame has disappeared, and the atmosphere has.
recovered its wonted serenity, they return to their
usual mode of life, they sink again to their former
level, and the tinkling sounds of the tumburella
call them again to the lascivious dance of the
tarentella."* — As an evidence of the litigious diS'
positions of the Neapolitans, the same author in-
forms us, " That there is scarcely a landholder but
has two or three causes pending before the courts
— that a lawyer, and a suit, are indispensable ap-
pendages of property; — and that some of the prin-
cipal families have suits which have been carried
on for a century, and for which a certain simi is
yearly appropriated, although the business never
advances ; and, at last, the expenses swallow up
the whole capital." — "Tlie infinite number of
churches," says a late writer, " is one of tho
most efficient causes of the decline of the religion
of Rome, whose maxims and practice are diame-
trically opposite to tiiose of the Gospel. The Gos-
pel is the friend of the people, the consoler of tho
poor. The religion of Rome, on the contrary,
considers all nations as great flocks, made to be
shorn or eaten according to the good pleasure of
the shepherds : for her the golden lever is the
lever of Archimedes. The favors of the church
are only showered on those who pay: w;th money
we may purchase the right to commit perjury
and murder, and be the greatest villains at so
much per crime ; according to the famous TariJT
ptinted at Rome, entitled, " Taxes of the Apostolic
Chttncery."t

» Vieossenx's " Italy in the 19th century," 1824.

t "Pictr'e of Modern Rome," by M. Santo Domingo, 1824.

TEMPER DISPLAYED BY CONTROVERSIALISTS.

137

M Jouy, in his late publication, "The Hermit
In Italy," presents the following picture of the
religion and the practical morality of the Tuscans.
"The greediness after profit is such, among the
lower classes of shop-keepers, that they adulterate
their merchandise so much as to render it almost
Jnfolerahle Milk, cheese, and butter, are always
In peril under the hamls of a Florentine shop-
keeper. It is impossible to meet with good but-
ter, except at the dairies. The grocers are not
exempt from the imputation of these illicit mix-
tures, and a lulterations of tiieir goods. I bouglit,
from one of them, some brown sugir, which wouiil
not dissolve in the mouth ; and, on examination,
I found, that nearly one-third part consisted of
powdered marble, which had been mixed up with
it. Yet they are excessively punctual in the out-
ward ceremonies of religion ; and whenever they
remove from one place to another, a large cross,
or a madonna, is always stuck up at full length
in the cart."

In a conversation which Bonaparte had with
his friends at St. Helena, on the subject of religion,
as related by Las Casas, in his Journal, he said,
among many other things, " ' How is it possible
that conviction can find its way to our hearts,
when we hear the absurd language, and witness
the acts of iniquity of the greatest number of
those whose business it is to preach to us ? I
am suiTounded with priests, who preach inces-
santly tiiat their reign is not of this world, and
yet they lay hands upon everything they can get.
The Pope is the head of that religion from heaven,
and he thinks only of this world,' &c. The Em-
peror ended the conversation, by desiring my son
to bring him the New Testament, and taking it
from the beginning, he read as far as the conclu-
sion of the speech of Jesus on the mountain. He
expressed himself struck with the highest admira-
tion at the purity, the sublimity, the beauty of
the morality it contained, and we all experienced
the same feeling."

Such facts may suffice as specimens of the be-
nevolence and morality which exist in Roman
Catholic countries.

MOR.\L STATE OF THE PROTEST.iNT CHURCH, AND OF
THE DISPOSITIONS GENERALLY MANIFESTED AMONG
CHRISTIANS IN OUR OWN COUNTRY.

This is a topic which would admit of a very ex-
tended illustration ; but my present limits will
permit me to do little more than simply to allude
to a few prominent dispositions displayed by the
different sections of the Protestant church. — We
have already seen some of the pernicious effects
which flowed from the divisive and contentious
Bpiritof Christians, under the reign of the Christian
emperors, and during the middle ages, when ig-
norance and intolerance so extensively prevailed.

The present state of the Christian world affords
abundant proofs that this spirit is far from being
extinguished. Christians are at present distin-
guished by the peculiarity of their opinions res-
pecting— the person of Christ, and the attributes
of which he is possessed — the means by which
salvation is to be obtained — the measure and ex-
tent of divine benevolence — the Government of
the Christian church — and the ceremonies con-
nected with the administration of the ordinances of
religion. Hence the religious world appears arrang-
ed into such sects and parties as the following : —
Arians, Socinians, Unitarians, Sabellians, Necessa-
rians, and Trinitarians ; Baxterians, Anfinomians,
Arminians, Calvinists, Lutherans, Sub-la])sari-
ans. Supra- apsarians, Sandemanians, Swedenbor-

gians, and Moravians ; — Roman Catholics, Protes-
tants, Huguenots, Episcopalians, Presbyterians,
Independents, Secedcrs, Brownists, Pa;do-Baptists,
Anti-Piedo-Baptists, Keilamites, Methodists, Jump-
ers, Universalisis, Sabbatarians, Millennarians,
Destructionists,Dunkers, Shakers, I\Iystics,Hutch-
insonians, Muggletonians,the followers of Joanna
Southcoft, &c., &,c. — Most of these sectaries pro-
fess their belief in the existence of One Eternal,
Almighty, Wise, Benevolent, and Righteous Be-
ing, the Creator and Preserver of all things ; — in
the Divine authority of the Holy Scriptures; — that
God is the alone object of religious vVorship ; —
that Jesus of Nazareth is the true Messiah, and
the Son of God ; — " that he died for our offenses,
and was raised again for our justification ;" — that
there is a future state of rewards and punish-
ments ; — that there will be a resurrection from the
dead ; — that it is our duty to love God with all
our hearts, and our neighbor as ourselves ; — that
the Divine law is obligatory on the consciences
of all men ; — that virtue and piety will be re-
warded, and vice and immorality punished, in the
world to come.

Yet, though agreeing in these important arti-
cles of the Christian system, how many boisterous
and malignant disputes have taken place between
Calvinists and Arminians, Episcopalians, Presby-
terians, Independents, and Methodists, respecting
the speculative points in which they disagree !
While controversies among philosophers have
frequently been conducted with a certain degree
of candor and politeness, the temper with which
religious disputants have encountered the opinions
of each other, has generally been opposed to the
spirit of Christian love, to the meekness and gen-
tleness of Christ, and even to common civility and
decorum. The haughty and magisterial tone
wliich theological controversialists frequently as-
sume,— the indignant sneers, the bitter sarcasms,
the malignant insinuations, the personal reproach-
es they throw out against their opponents, — the
liarsh and unfair conclusions they charge upon
them, — the general aspeiity of their language, —
and the bold and unhallowed spirit with which
they apply the denunciations of Scripture to those
whom they consider as erroneous, are not only
inconsistent with everything that is amiable and
Christian, but tend to rivet more powerfully in
the minds of their opponents, those very opinions
which it was their object to subvert. To gain a
victory over his adversary, to hold up his senti-
ments to ridicule, to wound his feelings, and to
bespatter the religious body with which he is con-
nected, is more frequently the object of the dispu-
tant, than the promotion of truth, and the mani-
festation of that " character which is the bond of
perfection." And what are some of the important
doctrines which frequently rouse such furious
zeal ? Perhaps nothing more than a metaphysical
do'gma respecting the son.ship of Christ, absolute
or conditional election, the mode of baptism, the
manner of sitting at a commnnion-tahle, an un-
meaning ceremony, or a circumstantial punctilio
in relation to the govornment of the church !
While the peculiar notions of each party, on such
topics, are supported with all the fierceness of
unhallowed zeal, the grand moral objects which
Christianity was intended to accomplish are over-
looked, and the law of meekness, humility, and
love, is trampled under foot.

The following are some of the ideas entertained
respecting the rights of religious disputants, as
assumed by the disputants themselves : — " The
Controversialist," says Mr. Yaughan,in his "De-
fense of Calvinism," " is a wrestler ; and is at

138

THE PHILOSOPHY OF PvELlGION.

full liberty to do all he can, in the fuir and honest
exercise of his art, to supplant his antagonist. He
must not only he dexterous to put in his hlovv
forcihiy; hnt must have area<linessto menace with
scorn, imd to tease toith dciision, if haply he may,
by these means, unnerve or unman his competi-
tor. I know not that he is under any ohligation
to withliold u particle of his skill and strength,
whether otlensive, or defensive, in this truly Spar-
tan eoidliot " In perfect accordance with these
maxims, he thus addresses his adversary : "Why,
Sir, I \v\\\ fiijht you upon this theme, as the Greeks
did for thj recovery of their dead Patroclus; as
Michael the archangel, when, contending with tiie
Devil, he disputed about the body of Moses ; as
the f lined Alhi'uian, wlio (/rasped his ship with Ais
teeth, when he had no longer a hand to hold it by.
It shall be with a loss not less than life, that I re-
sign this splendid attestation (Rom. vlii. 28-30)
to the triumphal origin, procession, and corona-
tion, of grace in the redeemed."

Woe to religion, wlien it meets with such bois-
terous "wrestlers!" Its true glory will be ob-
scured, its beauty defaced, its interests betrayed,
and its benevolent spirit smothered, amidst the
smoke and dust raised by the onsets of such angry
combatants. Do such controversialists really
imagine, that " the wrath of man worketh the
righteousness of God?" or, that the religion of
Heaven stands in need of such warlike arts, and
unhallowed passions, for its vindication and de-
fense? If it did, it would be a religion unworthy
of our reception and support. What a contrast
to the mild and gentle spirit of Christianity, to
behold one zealot dipping his pen in wormvi'cod
and gall, when he sits down to defend the Reli-
gion of Love I and another, standing up in a Sy-
nod or Assembly, with eyes sparkling with indig-
nation, a month foaming with rage, and a torrent
of anathemas and abusive cjjithets bursting from
his lips, agoinst the supposed abettors of an erro-
neous opinion! while at the same time, they im-
agine that they are fired with holy zeal for the
honor of the Lord God of Sabaoth. Such dispu-
tants seem not to be aware, that they are grossly
misrepresenting the genius of the Christian sys-
tem, and bidding defiance to its most distinguish-
ing principles and laws. — There are heresies in
conduct, as well as heresies in doctrine; and of all
heresies, the former are the most pestilential and
pernicious. And why do not Controversialists
and Religious Societies manifest as much zeal
against heresies in temper and morality, which
are nursed among the members of every church,
as they do against heresies in theology? If these
heresies were more particularly investigated and
subverted, and a greater latitude allowed for the
exercise of private judgment, the church of Christ
would present a very different moral aspect from
what she has hitherto done.

Again, there is nothing which so strikingly
marks the character of the Christian world in
general, as the want of candor, the spirit of jeal-
ousy, and the evil surmisings which the different
denominations of religionists manifest toward
each other. There is a prevailing disposition in
one religious party to speak evil of another; and
it appears, in many instances, to afford a high de-
gree of satisfaction, when one party can lay hold
of the inadvertencies of another denomination, or
even of the imprudence of a single individual, in
order to asperse the character of the whole body,
and to hold it up to general derision and contempt.
Episcopalians look down with feelings of scorn
and contempt on Methodists and Dissenters; In-
dependents sneer at Methodists, and Methodists at

Independents; Presbyterians are disposed to revile
Indi'i)endents, as self-conceited, sanctimonious
pretenders, and Independents, to treat with unbe-
coming levity, and even with ridicule, the opinions
and practices of Presbyterians; while the different
classes of Baptists, distinguishable only by the
slightest shades of opinion, stand aloof froiti (sach
other, in a warlike attitude, and refuse to join
with cordiality in the ordinances of Divine wor-
ship. I liave seldom been in company with indi-
viduals of any particular party, in which I have
not found, when allusions were made to another
denomination, inuendoes thrown out to their pre-
judice; and that the detail of any error or imper-
fection which attached to them, was generally
relished, and even received with a high degree of
satisfaction. Hence it happens, that the rules of
common civility are every day violated by the dif-
ferent sectaries. If a person belonging to a par-
ticular denomination be accidentally introduced
into a company composed of persons belonging to
another religious party, he is frequently treated
with reserve, and with a spirit of jealousy and
suspicion, even although he may be viewed, on
the whole, as a Christian at bottom. I have
known individuals of respectable character and
attainments, who, from conscientious motives,
had forsaken the denomination to which they for-
merlj' belonged, have, merely on this account,
been treated with scorn and neglect, been banish-
ed from the intimacies of social and friendly in-
tercourse, and been regarded nearly in the same
light as a Turk or an infidel; and that, too, by
men who prelended to liberality, and to literary ac-
complishments.

There is certainly neither heresy nor orthodoxy
inherent in stone or lime, in a church-pew, or a
pulpit cushion: — yet one denomination will rudely
refuse' to another, the liberty of preaching in tl e.ir
place of worship, when it can conveniently be
spared, although nothing but the fundamen ai
doctrines acknowledged by both are intended to
be proclaimed; just as if the walls, the pews, and
the pulpit of a church, would receive a stain of
pollution from the presence of another sectary.
Even in those cases where the common interests
of Christianity are to be supported, — as in vindi-
cating the cause of Missionary, and other Philan-
thropic institutions, — if the preacher belongs to a
dissenting body, he is shut out from the spacious
churches of the Establishment, where he might
address a numerous audience, and obtain a large
collection; and is obliged to confine his exertions
within the narrow walls of any public hall, or
meeting-house, that he can procure. We account
it no more than a piece of common civility, to ac-
commodate a neighbor with a barn, a parlor, or
even a dining-room, for the entertainment of his
friends at a wedding or a funeral; but such is the
little progress that professed Christians have made
in the exercise of a noble and generous liberality,
that, when we ask the use of a church, or meet-
ing-house, only for a couple of hours, we are
spurned away with rudeness and indignation. —
The Christian world is unhappily divided into
sects and parties; and these divisions must still
continue for a time; but what should *l)inder
Christian ministers of different parties from ccca*
sionally at least, officiating for each other, n ordei
to show to the world, that they entertain no ma-
lignant jealousies, and that they are united in the
bonds of a common Religion? Yet, do we evei
behold an Episcopalian officiating for a Metho-
dist, an Independent preaching in an Established
church, or a Baptist leading the devotional exer-
cises of a society of Presbyterians? If sucU a

TEMPER DISPLAYED BY CONTROVERSIALISTS.

139

caso occasionally occur, it is so far from being a
matter of course, that it is considered a pliL-noine-
:ion ia tlie religious world. Yet all these differeut
1 urties recognize the leading doctrines and duties
exhibited ia the Christian Revelation; and the
points ia which they differ are " trifles light as
air," when compared with those important truths
in wliicL they all agree. *

Even among Christians belonging to the same
religious society, liow often do we behold a
display of " bitter envyings," contentious disposi-
tions, and malignant passions! Perhaps a mere
punctilio respecting a certain mode of worship,
or a difference in opinion about the choice of a
pastor, will tlirow the whole society into a flame.
Evil passions will be engendered; backbitings,
whisperings, tumults, and dissensions, will arise;
harsh and unfounded conclusions, respecting the
motives and characters of individuals, will be
drawn; alienations of affection will be induced;
friendly intercourse interrupted; an attitude of
hostility assumed; and even the rules of common
civility violated; — so that a calm and impartial
spectator will plainly discern, that the spirit of
Christianity has never been thoroughly imbibed,
and that they have never learned the apostolic
precept, " to forbear one another in love," how-
ever high pretensions they may have previously
made to spirituality of affection and deportment.
Among Christians of every name, we find dispo-
sitions and practices daily prevailing, which are
altogether inconsistent with the genius of the
religion of Christ, and directly repugnant to its
precepts. Slander, dishonesty, falsehood, cheat-
ing, swindling, and vexatious litigations, are far
from being uncommon among those who profess
to he united in the bonds of a common Christi-
anity. How little dependence can we have, in
social and commercial transactions, on the pro-
mise or the declaration of a man, merely on the
ground of his being a Christian in profession! If
written engagements, and civil laws, did not
secure our property, and the performance of
promises and contracts, our reliance on Christian
principle, abstractly considered, in the present
state of the religious world, would prove like
that of a person who leans upon a broken reed.
Jlow few would fulfill their promises and engage-
ments, when they interfered with their ambitious
schemes, and their pecuniary interests! How
many instances of fraudulent bankruptcy happen
among the professors of religion! And in cases
of common bankruptcy, where a legal settlement
has been obtained, is there one out of a hundred
that ever thinks of performing an act of natural
justice, in restoring to his creditors the loss they
had sustained, when he afterward has it in his
power?

• The following recent fncts will illustrate some of the ]
positions ronlained in this paragraph. — It appears that the
milliter of the parish of Annan has been in the hahit of
allowing Di-senters occasionally to preach in the parish
chnrili. His Assistant brought'thi's heavy offense before
a late meeting of the I'resbytery ; and, by that body, it was
deil;Lr:;d, tliat iTo Dissenter should, in future, pollute the
sai.l [I'llpit. They, at the same time, voted thanks to the
As<i^tant for his manly and liberal conduct in making the
complaint. — Piihlic Prints, Mpril, 1824.

" lialely, 'he minister of a parish, a few miles to the
westwaril of Cupar, hearing that, at the rccjuest of some of
his priris'iioi ers, a sermon was to be preached to them, by a
Dis^ctting clergyman from Ciipor, and knowing that the
•cho(yi room was the only place where that could be conve-
oienilv done, he called upon the teacher and commanilcd him
not to' allow the school-room to be used for such a purpose.
In a few days, a company of strolling players visited the
parish; whereupon the worthy pastor, calling on the schtd-
(uaster, ordt-red the school-room to be at their service, to
perform in." — Dundee Courier, Mpril, 1625.

Finally, the degree in which the spirit of intole-
rance and persecution still prevails, shows a lamen-
table deficiency of benevolence and of Christian
spirit in the religious world. Notwithstanding
the unjust and cruel sufferings which English
Protestants endured from Popish priests and
rulers, a short period only elapsed, after they had
risen to power, before they began in their turn,
to harass their Dissenting brethren, with vexa-
tions and cruel prosecutions, and fines and im-
prisonments, until they were forced to seek for
shelter in a distant land. And no sooner had the
English Independents settled in America, than
they set on foot a persecution against the Quakers,
no less furious than that which they tliumsel\?es
had suffered in tiie country from which they had
fled. A number of these worthy persons they
threw into prison, and seized upon the books they
had brought from England, and committed them
to the flames. In virtue of a law which had been
made against heretics in general, sentence of ban-
ishment was passed upon them all; and another
law punished with death, " all Quakers who
should return into the jurisdiction after banish-
ment;" and it is a fact, that /our persons actually
suffered death, under this impolitic and unjust
law. * Nor did the Reformed clergy in Scot-
land lose sight of that magisterial authority which
had been assumed by the Romish church. Upon
a representation, in 1646, from the commission of
the Kirk of Scotland, James Bell, and Colin Camp-
bell, bailiffs of Glasgow, were committed to prison
by the Parliament, merely for having said, that
" Kirkmen meddled too much in civil matters." +
Even so late as the middle of the eighteenth cen-
tury, when Whitefield, Wesley, and other pit us
men, began to address the ignorant villagers of
England on the most important subjects, " a mul-
titude has rushed together, shouting and howling,
raving and cursing, and accompanying their
ferocious cries and yells with loathsome or dan-
gerous missiles, dragging or driving the preacher
from his humble stand, forcing him, and the few
who wished to hear him, to flee for their lives,
sometimes not without serious injury before they
could escape. And these savage tumults have, in
many cases, been well understood to be instigated
by persons, whose advantage of superior condi-
tion in life, or even express vocation to instruct
the people better, has been infamously lent in
defense of the perpetrators, against shame or
remorse, or legal punislmient for the outrage.
And there would be no hazard in affirming, that,
since Wesley and Whitefield began to conflict
with the heathenism of the countrj% there have
been in it hundreds of instances answering in
substance to this description. — Yet the good and
zealous men who were thus set upon by a furious
rabble of many hundreds, the foremost of whom
active in direct violence, and the rest venting
their ferocious delight, in a hideous blending of
ribaldry and execration, of joking and cursing, —
were taxed with a canting liypocrisy, or a fanati-
cal madness, for speaking of the prevailing igno-
rance, in terms equivalent to those of tl»e pro-
phet, 'The people are destroyed for lack of
knowledge.' " i

But we need not go back even to the distance

* Morse's American Geography. — The following severe
laws, among others, were enacted against the Quakers.
" Any Quaker, after the first conviotion, if a man, was to
lose one ear, — and for the secom! offense, the other — a wo-
man, to be each time severely whipped; — and the third time,
whether man or woman, to have their tongues bored IhrMigh
with a red hot iron."

tKaim's Sketches.

t Foster's " Essay oa Popular Ignorance."

140

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

of half a century in order to find instances of
religious iatolcrauco among Protestant communi-
ties and churches; our own times unhappily fur-
nish too many examples of a bigoted, intolerant,
and persecuting spirit. Little more than two
years liavo clajjsed since the Methodist chapel in
Barbadoes was thrown down and demolished by
the mob-gentrij, and with tlie connivance of the
public authorities of that slave-trafficking island,
and Mr. Shrewsbury, a worthy and respected pas-
tor and missionary, obliged to flee for his life.
Previous to this outrage, he suiFered every species
of insult, contumely, and reproach. He was
abused as a villuiu, and hissed at in the streets,
not by mere rabble, but by the great vulgar; by
merchants from their stores, and individuals in the
garb of g.'iitkinen. By such characters his chapel
was surrounded, and partly filled, on Sunday the
5th October, lb23. Thin glass bottles had been
previously prepared and filled with a mixture of
oil and asafctida; and all of a sudden, they were
thrown with great violence in the midst of the
peoulc, and one was aimed at the head of the
preacher; and during the whole service, stones
were rattling against the chapel from every quar-
ter. On the next Sabbath an immense concourse
of people assembled, " breathing out threatenings
and slaughter;" and from 20 to 30 of the gentle-
men-iiwb planted themselves around the pulpit
apparently ready for any mischief. Men wearing
masks, and having swords and pistols, came gal-
loping down the street and presenting their pis-
tols, fired them at the door; and it was originally
designed to have fire crackers among the females,
to set their clothes on fire. At length, on Sab-
bath, the I9th, this execrable mob, consisting of
nearly WO gentlemen, ana others, again assembled,
with hammers, saws, hatchets, crows, and every
other necessary implement; and in the course of
a few hours, the lamps, benches, pews, pulpit, and
even the walls, were completely demolished.
They entered the dwelling-house, broke the win-
dows aud doors, threw out the crockery-ware,
chopped up tables, chairs, and every article of
furniture; tore the manuscripts of the preacher,
and destroyed a library of more than 300 volumes.
All this was done under the light of the full moon,
in the presence of an immense crowd of specta-
tors, without the least attempt being made to
check them either by the civil or military authori-
ties— while the unfortunate preacher, with his
wife in an advanced slate of pregnancy, had to
flee to a neighboring island to save his life! Such
is the tolerant and humane conduct of gentlemen
Protestants of the nineteenth century! gentlemen
who would, no doubt, consider it very unhand-
some were they to be compared to Goths and
Vandals, or to the rude and barbarous savages of
Papua or New Holland." *

About the same period, the authorities of De-
merara set on foot a persecution against Mr.
Smith, Missionary from tlie London Society,
under various pretexts: but his real crime in the
eyes of his persecutors, was, his unwearied zeal
in instructing the negroes in the knowledge of
religion. He was condemned to death by a
court-martial, in the face of every principle of
justice; he died in prison, was refused the privi-
lege of a Christian burial, and his friends were
prohibited from erecting a stone to mark the spot
wh?re his body was laid. The whole details of
this transaction present a scene of savage bar-

• For a more particular detail of these execrable transac-
tiois, isp '- Report of tlie Wesleyan Missionary Society
for 1~2-1:" und the debates in Parliament in 1525.

barity, created by the lust of gain, scarcely to be *
paralleled in the Iiistory of Europe. '

In Switzerland, which was fonnerly the head-
quarters of Protestantism, the demon of religious
persecution has again roared its head. The coun-
cil of state of the Pays de Vaud, at the iustiga-
tion of the clergy, on January 15, 1825, published
a decree, " prohibiting, under the penalty of se-
vere fines and imprisonments, all meetings for
religious worship or instruction, other than those
of the Established Church:" and in the following
May, another decree was issued, which denounces
"fines, imprisonment, or banishment, upon the
most private kind of religious assembly, or even
the admission of a single visitor to family wor-
ship." In pursuance of these disgraceful laws,
several ministers and private Christians of high
character for piety and acquirements, have been
banished from the Canton, some for one and some
for two years — cut off from all means of subsis-
tence, uidess possessed of independent fortunes
and left perhaps to starve and perish in foreign
lands. If they returned before the expiration of
their sentence, it is said that death is the punish-
ment to be inflicted. One poor man, a school-
master, in the principality of Neufchatel, has
been condemned to ten years' banishment. He
was brought out from prison, tied with cords, and
compelled to kneel in the snow in the public
square to hear his sentence read. His crime was,
gathering together a few fellow Christians in his
own house, and there having the Lord's supper
administered by a regularly ordained minister!*

And is England pure from the spirit of perse-
cution and intolerance? Let us see. — i\t Kenne-
ridge in Dorsetshire, a worthy and excellent indi-
vidual, belonging to the Wesleyan denomination,
had attended on a green, where 20 or 30 persons
usually congregated, on a Sunday afternooii, to
listen to tlie truths he thought it important to
declare. The clergyman of the parish approach-
ed with a retinue of servants, and commanded him
to desist. The preacher took no notice of the
command, and proceeded to read his text. The
clergyman then commanded the tithing-man to
seize him. He was directed to be conveyed to
Wareham jail; and to every question the preacher
put, as to the ground of his being seized upon, the
reverend and loorthy clergyman only replied by
the brandishing of his stick. — Instances have oc-
curred in which clergymen of the establishment
have refused to bury the dead. At Chidds Ercal,
in Shropshire, the child of a poor man was refus-
ed interment, and the father was obliged to carry
it six miles, before it could be laid at rest in its
mother earth. — At Catsfield, in Sussex, a similar
act of infamy was committed. — At the moment
when the bell had tolled, when the earth was to
fall heavily upon the coffin, containing the only
remains of the being that affection had endeared,
and when those who stood by needed all the con-
solations that religion can supply — at this moment
the clergyman appeared, but advanced only to
give pain to the mourners, and to agonize a pa-
rent's heart, by sayiug, " Now that you have
waited an hour until it suited me to come, I will not
inter your child! I did not know that you were
Dissenters — take your child somewhere else — take
it where you please — but here it shall not lie in
consecrated ground." And, in fact, they were
compelled to carry the child away, eleven miles
from the abode of its parents, and from the place

* See a pamphlet on this subject by Dr. Pye Smith. Se«
also, Cong. Mag. for June, 1825, and other periodical worii
of that date.

GENERAL REFLECTIONS.

141

that gave i: birth, before it could find repose ia its
kindred dust. — At Mevagissey, in the county of
Cornwall, the vicar refused to allow the corpse of
a Dissenter to be brouglit witliin the church, and,
therefore, read the burial service in the open air;
but, in consequence of which, he read only a
part of that service, and omitted the most beauti-
ful portion. — Such a power appears to be conce-
ded to tlie clergy by the laws of the church; but
the spirit which gave it existence is deeply to be
deplored, as the spirit of bigotry and intolerance.
At Wellingborough, a clergyman, in opposition
to a custom which had been established for sixty
years, issued orders, that no bell should toll when
a Dissenter expired. He boldly avowed, "that
he never would permit the passing-bell to be rung
for a Dissenter, even in the event of an interment
in the church-yard; that while he held the cura-
cy, no bell of his church should ever toll for a
Dissenter; and that he would not even permit the
bells to ring for a marriage where the parties
were Dissenters." In reference to this case, an
appeal was made to the Bishop of Peterborough,
who wrote a long letter on the subject, and defen-
ded the conduct of this Wellingborough curate. —
At Newport Paguel, two persons of decent ap-
pearance, teachers of Baptist Societies, were col-
lecting subscriptions for the erection of a new
place of worship. — After arriving at the residence
of the parish clergyman, they were taken before
a clerical magistrate, who upon the oath of the
other clergyman, that they were rogues and va-
grants, committed them to Aylesbury jail; where
the J- were confined for three weeks in common
with the basest felons; among convicted thieves
of the most abandoned character; — nay, more,
they were sentenced to the tread-mill, and kept
at hard labor there, though, during the whole
time, one of them was afflicted with spitting of
blood. Their papers were seized upon; their mo-
ney was taken from them; and by means of it
the expense of sending them to prison was de-
frayed. *

All the above-stated instances, and many others
of a similar description, occurred within the
limits of the year 1^24; and every year since the
" Society for the Protection of Religious Liberty"
was formed, similar instances, some of them of a
more barbarous nature, have been brought forth
to public vi^w. And, were it not for the protec-
tion which this Society affords to the victims of
intolerance, it is highly probable, that vexatious
persecutions, insults, fines, aiid imprisonments,
on account of differences in religious opinions,
would be much more common than they now are.
Were such individuals as those to whom we have
now alluded, permitted, by the laws of our coun-
try, to carry their intolerant spirit to its utmost
extent, Dissenters would have no security either
for their property or their lives; and the fires of
Smithfieid would again be kindled, to torture the
souls, and to consume the bodies, of all who
refused to conform to the dogmas of a national
church.

After what has been stated in the preceding
part of this work, it is almost needless to say,
that such an intolerant and persecHting spirit is
diametrically opposite to every princi])le that
pervades the Christian system; and there cannot
ba a grosser misrepresentation of its spirit and
lendoncy, than to ascribe such dispositions and

* The reader will find a more particular detail of these
cases, in the " Address of John H'ilks, Esq., at the Four-
.eenlh Anniversary of the Protestant Society for the Pro-
tection of Keligious Liberty," in May, 1825.

conduct to the genius of that religion which in-
tolerance has thought proper to assume. Can
a single instance be produced of a persecuting
spirit in the conduct of Jesus Christ, or in that of
any one of his apostles! When he " was reviled,
he reviled not again; and when he suffered, he
threatened not;" and he solemnly rebuked his fol-
lowers when the least symptom of intolerance or
revenge was displayed. Can a religion, which
commands us to" love our neighbors as ourselves
— to be kindly affectionate one toward another —
to love our enemies — to do good to them that
hate us — to bless them that curse us — and to pray
for them that despitefully use us," — can such a
religion be supposed to give the least countenance
to actions that are both intolerant and inhuman?
If the religion of Christ nave any one prominent
object which distinguishes it from all others, it is
this — to unite mankind in one harmonious and
affectionate society;- and such an object is alto-
gether incompatible with resentment, intolerance,
or persecution in any shape. " By this shall all
men know," says Jesus, " that you are my dis-
ciples, if ye love one another."-

Here I must close the illustrations of the moral
state of mankind, though they might have been
carried to a much greater extent. They present
to every benevolent mind a gloomy picture of the
moral aspect of the human race, and of the de-
pravity which the principle of malevolence carries
in its train. It is a picture which shows us that
those moral principles and laws which the Creator
intended to promote, the felicity of all worlds,
have never yet been brought into full effect in the
world in which we live. It is a picture, however,
from which we ought not to turn away our eyes
It sets before us the evils which require to be
counteracted, and the obstacles which must be
surmounted, before the principles of malignity be
extirpated, and the moral principles of the Chris-
tian system take root in the world. But such
views of the existing state of the moral world, so
far from operating as sedatives, ought to stimulate
us to exert every energy, and to use every judi-
cious and powerful mean, which has a tendency
to promote the accomplishment of this important
object.

It would have given me pleasure to have pre-
sented before the eye of the reader a more cheer-
ful and alluring picture; but "facts are stubborn
things," and there is no resisting the force of the
evidence which they adduce. — I intend to re-
lieve some of the dark shades of this picture, by
exhibiting some faint radiations of truth and be-
nevolence which are still visible amidst the sur-
rounding gloom. For, amidst the moral dark-
ness which has so long covered the earth, some
streaks of celestial light have always been visible;
and the dawning of a brighter day now begins to
gild our horizon. Substantial knowledge is row
beginning to diffuse its benign influence on aQ
ranks; the shackles of despotism are bursting
aSVuuler; the darkness of superstition is gradually
dispelling; the spirit of persecution is borne do^-pm
and powerfully oppo.sed by the force of truth and
of common sense, and the rights of conscienco
are beginning to be generally recognized. Phi-
lanthropic institutions of various descriptions
have been established, education is extending its
beneficial effects; the instruction of the young Ls
becoming an object of more general attention;
philosophical institutions, village libraries, and
associations for intellectual improvement, are nr

142

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

pi(jly organizing; Bible and missionary societies
are extending their influence tiirougii every por-
tion of tlie religious vvorki, and Christianity is
now heginning to display its beneficent energies
on distant continents, and the islands of the ocean.
— But, instead of entering into details in the illus-
tration of these and similar eti'ects which have al-
ways, in a greater or less degree, accompanied
the progress of the Christian religion, I shall, in
the meantime, refer the reader to the excellent
work of Dr. Ryan, " On the History of the effects
of Religion on Mankind."

Here a question may be proposed by some of
my readers, — Is it possible to bring the inhabi-
tants of this world, in their present depraved
state, to a general observance of the laws of be-
nevolence which have been illustrated in the pre-
ceding part of this work? To such a question
I would reply, — Whatever manhas done, man may
do. Amidst the depravity and the darkness with
which the earth has been generally enveloped, in-
dividuals have occasionally arisen who have shone
as lights in the moral world, and exhibited bright
patterns of Christian temper and of active bene-
ficence. The Apostle Paul had his mind imbued
with a large portion of the spirit of love. He
voluntarily embarked in a tour of benevolence
through the nations; and in spite of reproaches,
persecutions, stripes and imprisonments; in the
midst of " perils in the waters, perils of robbers,
perils by his own countrymen, perils in the city,
and perils in the wilderness;" and in the face of
every <langer, and of death itself, he prosecuted,
with a noble heroism, his labor of love, purely for
the sake of promoting the best interests of man-
kind. All the Apostles engaged in the same be-
nevolent undertaking; they sacrificed every pri-
vate interest, every selfish consideration; "neither
counted they their lives dear unto themselves, so
that they might finish their course with joy," and
be the means of accomplishing the salvation of
their fellow-men.

Even in our own times, many distinguished
individuals have arisen, who have reflected honor
on our species. The name of Howard is familiar
to every one who is in the least acquainted with
the annals of philanthropy (see p. 14). This
excellent man, and truly philanthropic character,
devoted his time, his strength, his genius, his
literary acquisitions, and his fortune, and finally
sacrificed his life, in the pursuits of humanity,
and in the unwearied prosecution of active bene-
volence. He traveled over every country in Eu-
rope and in the adjacent regions of Asia, impelled
by the spirit of Christian love, in order to survey
the mansions of sorrow and of pain, and to devise
schemes for the relief of human wretchedness
wherever it existed; and, in the execution of this
scheme of benevolence, the energies of his mind
were so completely absorbed, that " he never suf-
fered himself, for a moment, to be diverted from
carrying it into effect, even by the most attractive
of those objects which formerly possessed all
their most powerful influence upon his curiosity
and his taste." *

The late Walter Venning, Esq., who has been
denominated, by Prince Galitzin, the second Ho-
ward, walked in the steps of his illustrious pre-
decessor, and with the most fervent Christian zeal,
devoted his short, but useful life, to the alleviation
of human misery, and to the promotion of the
best interests of thousands of wretched individuals

For a particular account of the labors of this eminent
philanthropi-t, see Brown's " Memoirs of the public and pri-
vate lUe of John Howard."

who "were ready to perish." He withdrew hind
self from the ordinary round of genteel society
and declined all commercial business, that he
might devote the whole energies of his soul to
benevolent occupations. He commenced his phi-
lanthropic career, by co-operating in the forma-
tion of the "Society for improvement of Prison
discipline," which was formed in London in 1816;
and afterward visited the prisons in Petersburgh,
Novogorod, Tver, Moscow, and other cities in the
Russian empire. The prisons, hospitals, work-
houses, mad-houses, houses of correction, and the
abodes of miserj^ of every description in Peters-
burgh, were visited by him, day after day: "and
many a prisoner, bowed down with affliction and
iron, was cheered, instructed, and saved by his
ministrations; for his philanthropy extended both
to the bodies and to the souls of men." *

Many other examples might be produced from
the annals of our times, and of illustrious charac-
ters, presently existing, to demonstrate, that a
noble and disinterested benevolence is a principle,
cap-able of being exercised even in the present
degenerated state of the inhabitants of our world.
We find parents sometimes displaying a high
degree of benevolent feeling toward their oiF-
spring, and sacrificing their ease, and their per-
sonal interests, in order to secure their health,
their happiness, and enjoyments. We find bosom
friends like David and Jonathan, and like Damon
and Pythias, rejoicing in the welfare of each
other, and encountering difficulties and dangers in
promoting the interests of the objects of theii
friendship. What, then, should hinder such dis-
positions from becoming universal ? What should
hinder them from being transferred to all the
sensitive and intellectual beings, with whom we
m^y have occasion to correspond, or to associate?
Would not the universal exercise of such disposi*
tions be JdgMy desirable? would it not tend to
banish war and discord from the world, and pro-
mote peace on the earth, and good-will among
men? Why, then, are such dispositions so sel-
dom displayed? Not because the universal exer-
cise of them is a thing impossible; but because
men, actuated by selfishness, are unwilling to give
full scope to the benevolent affections; because
they have never yet employed all the requisite
means for bringing them into full operation. If
all the energies of the intellect, and all the trea-
sures which have been expended in fostering
malignant passions, and in promoting contentions
and warfare, had been devoted to the great object
of cultivating the principle of benevolence, and
distributing happiness among men; the moral and
physical aspect of our world would long ago have
assumed a very different appearance from what it
now wears.

The philanthropic individuals, to whom I have
alluded, were men, whose actions were sometimes
blended with the failings and imperfections inci-
dent to degenerated humanity; but the principle
of benevolence ruled supreme over all the subor-
dinate affections; and if the world were peopled
with such men, notwithstanding the imperfections
which attached to them, society, in every land,
would present the appearance of a moral paradise,
and form an image of the harmony and felicity of
" the saints in light." Every one who believes in
the existence of a future state, fondly imagines
that he shall enjoy happiness in that state. But,
whence is his happiness to arise in the future
world, but from the exercise of those dispositions

* 3Ir. Venning died in Petersbnrgh, in 1821, in the fortietb
year of his age.

MEANS OF PROMOTING CHRISTIAN MORALITY.

143

which the law of God requires? And if the exer-
cise of beuevoiciit dispositions be essentially re-
quisite for securing supreme felicity in the eternal
state, their cultivation, even in the present world,
must be an indispensable duty, in order to our
preparation for the employments of the celestial
world. l''or it is a law of the Creator, which is
eternal and immutable, tliat " without holiness,
110 man can see the Lord." And whenever the
requisite means are employed for the cultivation
of holy and benelicent dispositions, we may rest
assured, that our labor will be crowned with suc-
cess. For the energy of the divine Spirit, from
whom proceedeth every good and perfect gift, is
promised to accompany the use of every proper
mean, so us to render it effectual for counteracting
the effects of moral evil, and for promoting the
renovation of the world.

Wq have examples before us, not only of a few
insulated individuals, but of societies, where the
print iple of benevolence, in a greater or less de-
gree, pervades the whole mass. The people who
have been denominated Quakers, have always
been distinguished by their humane and peaceable
dispositions, their probity and hospitality to each
other, the cheerfulness of their manners, their
opposition to war, and the active zeal which they
have displayed in contributing to the good of
mankind. The iiroraomfts are also distinguished
for their affectionate intercourse with each other,
the liberality of their dispositions, the peaceable-
ness of their tempers, the purity and simplicity
of their lives, and their missionary efforts for
evangelizing the heathen world.* Would to God
that the whole world were Quakers and Moravi-
ans, notwithstanding their peeuliaritles of opinion 1
Wi-th ah their foibles and imperfections, suciety
would then wear a more beautiful and alluring
aspect than it has ever yet done; peace and indus-
try vv'onld be promoted: the fires of persecution
would be quenched; philanthropy would go forth
among the nations, distributing a thousand bless-
ings, and the people would learn war, no more.

I intend, in this place, to inquire into the means

* The followiu" anecdote, is illustrative of the character
of many of the Moravians, or Hernhutters as they are some-
times called. — In a late war in Germany, a captain of ca-
valry was ordered out on a foriging party. He put himself
at the head of his troop, and marched to the quarter assigned
him. It was a solitary valley, in which hardly anything but
woods was to be seen. In the midst stood a little cottage;
on perceiving it he rode op, and knocked at the door; ont
comes an ancient Hernhutter with a beard silvered by age.
"Father," says the officer, "show me a field where I can set
my troopers a-foraging." "Presently," repfied the Hernhut-
ter. The good old man walked before, and conducted them
ont of the vallev. After a quarter of an hour's march, they
found a field of barley. "There is the very thing we want,"
says the captain. — "Have patience for a very tew minutes,"
replied the guide, "and you shall be satisfied." They went
on, and about the distance of a quarter of a league farther,
they arrived at another field of barley. The troop immedi-
ately dismounted, cut down the grain, trussed it up, and re-
mounted. The otBcer, upon this, says to his conductor,
"Father, you have given yourself and us nnnecessary
tronble; the first field was much better than this." "Very
true, Sir," replied the good old man, "But it was not mine."
—Here we have a beautiful practical exhibition of Iodc to
<mr neighbor, and of calm resignation to the providential
dispensations of God. How few professed Christians have
been found acting in this manner! And yet I doubt not,
that this good man would experience more true satisfaction
ia the temper and conduct he displayed, than if he had of
fered resistance, practiced dissimulation, or set them to
plunder his neighbor's field. A number of disinterested
actions such as this, would contribute more powerfully to
the support of the Christian cause than a thousand theologi-
cal disputes, imbued with the spirit and temper with which
tliey hai3 been most frequently conducted.

BV WHICH THE PRACTrCE OF CHRISTIAN MORALITY

.MIGHT BE PRO-MOTEO. But I find that this is a
subject which would require a distinct volume
for its illustration. At present, I can suggest only
two or three hints.

In the first place, the intellectual instruction of
the young, should be an object of universal atten-
tion, both in public and private. For true know-
ledge is the spring of all religious emotions, and
of all virtuous actions. By intellectual instruc-
tion, I do not mean merely a series of exercises
in spelling, pronouncing, parsing, construing,
writing, and figuring; but a communication of
the elements of thought, and of clear and exten-
sive conceptions of the physical and moral rela-
tions of the universe. — 2. The moral instruction
of the young should be an object of particular
and incessant attention. Moral instruction should
be inculcated, not merely by a reiteration of dry
precepts, maxims, and abstract doctrines, or by a
reference to the details and flimsy sentiments con-
tained in fictitious narratives; but by a pointed
and pacific reference to real facts; as exhibited in
the Sacred History, the annals of nations, and iu
the scenes of the family, and of general society
I would expect no greater assistance in the work
of moral instruction from the religious novels
with which the Cliristian world is now deluged,
than I would do from a circulation of the Pious
Frauds which were so common in the first ages
of the church. In schools and in families, every-
thing which has a tendency, either directly or
indirectly to foster pride, envy, contention, -e-
venge, and other malignant affections, should bo
firmly and sedulously discouraged and counter-
acted; and higher rewards (if rewards be expedi-
ent) should in every instance, be bestowed on.
the individual who cultivates and displays bene-
volent affections, than on him who is distinguish-
ed merely for intellectual acquirements. Hitherto,
a more decided preference seems to have been
given to what is termed genius, than to moral ac-
complishments.— 3. Institutions should be formed
for communicating literary and scientific know-
ledge, blended with moral and religious instruc-
tions, to persons of both sexes, and of every rank
and age, from fifteen years and upward, particu-
larly to apprentices, journeymen, clerks, shop-
keepers, and others, for the purpose of calling
forth into action the energies of their minds, and
for preventing the growth of habits of dissipation.
In such institutions, the manifestation of benevo-
lent affections, and propriety of moral conduct,
should be made the conditions of enjoying the
instructions and privileges of the association. —
4. In connection with these and other means, the
cause of practical morality would be powerfully
promoted, were the ministers of religion, among
all parties, to direct their energies to the discus-
sion of moral subjects, on Christian principles,
instead of confining their attention almost exclu-
sively to doctrinal discussions. Religion is not a
system merely of speculative and metaphysical
truths, nor does it consist in the contemplation
of mysterious facts, or incomprehensible dog-
mas; but it is a rational and tangible subject, ad-
dressed to the reeison, the hopes, and fears, and
the common sense of mankind; and therefore, its
illustrations should be chiefly derived from the
facts of Sacred History, the system of nature,
and from the existing objects, sc-enes, and associa-
tions with which we are connected. — A much
greater degree of animation, and of energy, than
is now displayed in instructions from the pulpit,
is also requisite for arresting the attention, and
riveting impressions of moral and religious trutlu

144

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION.

upon the mind If fewer sermons were delivered,
and a greater portion of intellectual energy con-
centrated in each discourse, and if preachers,
particularly among Dissenters, had fewer dis-
courses to compose, and more time for taking an
ample intellectual range through the system of
nature, of Providence, and of revelation, a more
powerful etlect would undoubtedly be produced
on the Cliristian world, and upon all who occa-
sionally attend on the ministrations of religion.

I need scarcely add, tiiiit all such means ought
to be accompanied with fervent prayer to the
"Father of lights," and dependence on the pro-
mised aid of the Spirit of holiness. But without
the application of all the energetic means which
reason and revelation suggest, we have no reason
to conclude, and it would be presumption to ex-
pect, that the influences of heaven will descend
upon the moral world. For it appears, in
point of fact, to be one part of the plan of the
divine procedure, that human agents shall be the
means of enlightening each other, and of promot-
ing the renovation of the world, as " workers to-
gether with God."

CONCLUSIONS FROM THE GENERAL PRINCIPLES ILLUS-
TRATED IN THIS VOLUME.

If the general train of sentiment which runs
through the preceding discussions and illustra-
tions be admitted, the following conclusions may
be deduced respecting,

I. The subject of preaching, and the grand aim
which the ministers of religion, in their dis-
courses, ought always to have in view.* We
have already seen, that it is the great object of
revelation to bring into practical operation the
principles of love to God and to man; and, it is
obvious, that, what is the main object of Christi-
anity to accomplish, ought to be the uilimate aim
of every Christian preacher. It is not merely to
convert men to the belief of certain opinions, or
to induce them to embrace the peculiarities of a
party. It is, tliat they may " be renewed iu the
spirit of their minds," and, " made meet for the
inheritance of the saints in light" — it is, that they
maj^ "deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and live
soberly, righteously, and godly, in the present evil
woild;" and be " united together in looc, which is
the bond of perfection." — .\Ieta])hysical disquisi-
tions, respecting doginas in religion, Imve ver_v
little tendency to meliorate the heart, and to pro-
mote heiievoleiil dispositions and affections. On
the contrary, they have frequently produced a
temper #f mind directly opposite to the spirit of
Christianity. They have led multitudes to pique
themselves on the supposed purity of their pro-
fession, and the orthodoxy of their creed, and to
point at otiiers as heretics, and subverters of the
gospel, on account of some slight differences in
sentiment about a particular doctrine; while they
themselves have never attempted to cultivate
heavenly dispositions, and to display that charity
which " sulTercth long, and is kind, which is not
easily provoked, and thinketh no evil." There
are certain doctrines and facts, whicli we ought
always to recognize, and to keep in view as fun-
damental axioms in the Christian system; — such
as, that " there is one God, and one Mediator be-

• The Author originally intended to illustrate this, and
ihe following conclusions, at considerable length, and to
enter into a variety of circumstantial details; but, as the
intended illustrations would occupy more than a hundred
pages, and as the work has already swelled to a considerable
«i7.e, he is under the necessity of postponing them for the
pre>eut.

tween God and man, the man Christ Jesus;" that
" he died for our oiFenses, and rose again for our
justification;" that "all have sinned and come
short of the glory of God;" and that " we are jus-
tified freely by his grace, through the redemptioa
that is in Christ Jesus." But, there is no neces-
sity for expatiating almost exclusively on these
and similar doctrines, as is frequently done, to tha
exclusion of practical morality; since they ought
to be regarded in the light rather of first principles
in religion, than as topics which require to be
proved by labored and diffused arguments. Yet,
it is a fact, tliat such doctrines, which are only
the means of religion, have been expatiated upon
without intermission, as if the simple belief of
them were the end of religion; while the great
moral object of Christianity has been either en-
tirely overlooked, or thrown into the shade.
What should we think of the instructor of youth,
who confined the attention of his pupil solely to
the characters of the alphabet, and to the pronun-
ciation of a few elementary sounds, and tlien dis-
missed him with a general exhortation, to apply
them to all the combinations of letters and sylla-
bles he might find in every book? Could we ever
expect, that, in ordinary cases, such a pupil would
either make progress in the art of reading, or use
it as the medium of acquiring knowledge? And
what shall we think of those who do little more
than attempt to explain the axioms of the Chris-
tian system, but never show their bearings on the
scenery of real life, nor endeavor to extend our
views of the providential operations of God, and
of the glory of his kingdom? If Christianity
consisted merely in abstract disquisitions, and
metaphysical dogmas, such a practice might be,
in some measure, defensible; but since it is, in
every sense of the word, a practical system, it is
next to trifling with its prominent objects, to con-
fine the range of religious discussions within so
narrow bounds as is generally done bj' many of
those who are designated by the term evangelical;
and argues a complete forgetfulness of the apos-
tle's exhortation, " Therefore, leaving the first
principles of the doctrine of Christ, let us go on
to perfection," tracing first principles through
all tlieir diversified bearings on mortal action, and
on Christian contemplation.

One of the great objects of preaching ought,
undoubtedly, to be, to investigate the numerous
and minute ramifications of human conduct ; to
explore every avenue of corruption ; to endeavor
to draw forth from its hiding-place every immoral
principle and action, which exerts its pernicious
influence in Christian or in general society ; and
with all the powers of graphical description we
can command, to portray them before the eyes of
men, in all their repulsive features, and in all
tlieir abominations. At the same time, we ought
to apply the touch-stone of the divine law to
every unchristian propensity and practice ; to ex-
hibit its contrariety to the spirit of our holy reli
gion ; to show how the principle of love ought to
operate in every given case and circumstance, and
in the minutest actions of human life ; and how
very different effects would be produced, were the
principles laid down by our vSaviour and his apos-
tles, to operate with full effect throughout every
department of the morod world. Unless such
objects be generally ainial at, and steadily kept iii
view, in the course of public instruction, religior
will be apt to degenerate into a mere figment, or.
at most, into a subject of wrangling, or a mattei
of curious speculation.

Let no class of religionists presume to tell us
that, if the fundamental doctrines of religion b&

MORAL PREACHING.

145

simply declared, Christian morality will follow as
ii matter of course ; and that, to expatiate on any
particular branch of social conduct, is to degene-
rate into legal preaddng. If this principle were to
be admitted, then ail the expostulations and de-
u uncial ions of the prophets, all the reproofs and
exhortations of the apostles, all the moral sermons
of our Saviour, and all the minute directions in
reference to moral conduct, detailed in every
epistle to the Christian churches, may be regarded
as egregious trifling. If it be one grand design
of revelation to restore mankind from the ruins
of the f;dl, and to reinstate them in that integrity
which they at first possessed ; — if it was the chief
design of "the law and the prophets" to bring
forth into action, on the theater of the world, the
two fundamental principles of the moral law, as
the Lawgiver himself has expressly stated (Matt,
xxii. .37-40); — if the sweet singer of Israel devo-
ted a large portion of his inspired strains to the
celebration of the divine precepts (Psalm cxix.
&c.); — if most of the sermons and parables of our
Saviour have a direct bearing on the same impor-
tant subject; — if the apostle Paul, in his instruc-
tions 10 a Christian minister, enlarged particularly
on the duties vvliich should be inculcated on the
various ranks and relations of men (Titus ii.
iii.); — if all the apostolic letters to the Christian
churches ai-e full of minute directions, in relation
to every branch of moral duty ; — if heaven be the
scene of perfect moral rectitude, whiu'e ardent
affection toward God, and toward fellow-intelli-
gences, ever reigns — where love, peace, and har-
mony, eternally prevail ; — if the happiness of that
(vorld depend upon the absence of moral evil, and
the attainment of moral perfection ; — if the pres-
ent world be a state of preparation for the enjoy-
ments of that happier region ; — if this preparation
consist in having the principles of love to God and
to man interwoven through the whole constitution
of th ! mind, and brought forth into action in the
diversified scenes of civil and religious inter-
course ; — if such important eflects cannot be pro-
duced, unless by laying open to view the latent
abominations of the heart, by impelling the moral
principles of the gospel through all the avenues
and windings of the human passions and affec-
tions ; and by illustrating, with minute particu-
laritj', every subordinate branch of Christian duty;
■ — if these positions be admitted, it will follow,
that the duties of Christian morality, so far from
being thrown into an obscure corner, ought to
occupy a prominent place in the range of the
ministration of eveiy Christian minister, who is
desirous to promote the improvement of society,
and the renovation of the world.

In short, we expect no grand moral reformation
to be achieved — no commencement of the millen-
nial era of the church, until " the watclimen upon
Mount Sion," with more energy than they have
yet displayed, " sliall lift up their voice like a
trumpet, and show to the house of Jacob their
transgressions" — until they "lift it up with
strength, and not be afraid " of any suspicions
that may be thrown out against their orthodoxy,
when they show unto men the path of duty in all
its bearings on the relations of time, and on the
employments of eternity — until they make the
moral principles of Revelation bear, in all their
force, not only on the prominent features of social
life, but upon every minute ramification of human
conduct until every lurking principle of jealou.sy,
envy, avarice, and revenge be mad} to feel their ,
energy — until even the very amusements of pub-
He and domestic life be made to bend to the
et-TJial laws of rectitude, and to carry on their '

fronts that noble inscription, "Holiness to tiir
Lord."

II. If the preceding train of sentiments be ad-
mitted, wo may be directed in our views of the
nature and ends of church discipline, and the per-
sons on whom it ought to be exercised.

In a great majority of Christian churches, cen-
sures are inflicted chiefly, or solely, on j)ersons
guilty of an external breach of one or two precepts
of the decalogue — only one or two species of vio-
lation of the moral law are considered as worthy
of cognizance ; while the systematic operaticms of
slander, revenge, envy, and avarice — the indica-
tions of harsh, sour, and ungovernable tempers,
and the absence of Christian candor and affection
— circumstances which display the real characters
of men far more distinctly than any insulated
acts of immorality can do — are either wholly over-
looked, or considered as characteristics of very
trivial import. The censures to which I allude,
are likewise accompanied, in many instances,
with a degree of magisterial haughtiness, severity,
and unchristian feeling, which is directly repug-
nant to every amiable, candid, and generous prin-
ciple. A person guilty, in a single instance, of a
breach of the seventh or eighth commandments,
will lie under the fi'^wn of a religious society for
years, and even to the close of his life, notwith-
standing every evidence he can give of the sincer-
ity of his repentance, and even be deprived of the
means of earning his subsistence ; while another
may habitually violate almost all the other pre-
cepts of the decalogue, and be screened from the
discipline of the church. He may be avaricious,
cunning, and deceitful ; harsh and unfeeling iu
his conduct ; uncandid and uncharitable in his
dispositions toward others ; proud, selfish, and
obstinate in his temper ; addicted to slander and
to incessant litigations ; impatient of control ; and
boisterous and contentious in his general deport-
ment— and yet be considered as no proper object
of censure; and, though never manifesting the least
symptom of penitence, will be viewed as a tolera-
bly fair character in religious society, especially
if he has acquired a considerable share of wealth
and of influence in general society. — Of such cases
and practices, the author had selected a number
of striking examples, which the narrow limits to
which he is confined in the present work, constrain
him, in the meantime, to postpone.

Now, if the general sentiments already thrown
out be founded on truth, and on the nature of
things, such a practice as that to which we allude,
must be ab.surd, unchristian, and inconsistent with"
the preservation of the moral purity of religious
society. It has this pernicious tendency, among
others, that it leads multitudes to imagine, that,
if they can keep clear of two or three acts of
moral delinquency, they may trample on every
divine princi[)le and law with impunity. A poor
wretch, under the pressure of poverty, steals a
hen or a pocket handkerchief, and, notwithstand-
ing his subsequent repentance, is banished from
social intercourse, and held up to execration ;
while a sanctimonious hypocrite will swindle his
neighbor out of a hundred pounds, if no criminal
law can take hold of him, and will retain his sta-
tion in the church, and hold up his face without
a blush in the presence of general society. It is
obvious, if there be any truth in what wo have
hitherto statedi that the general tenor of the con-
duct, and the uniform manifestation of benevolent
affections, ought, in every case, to form the grand
criterion of a man's being entitled to the charac-
ter of a Christian ; and, that dispositions of an op-
posite nature habitually displayed, however much

UQ

THE rillLOSOPIIY OF RELIGION.

overlookeJ in the general intorcouvse of life, ouglit
to form :i giouiul of exclusion from the society of
the failliful.

111. This subject has a particular bearing upon
the div.iswns which subsist in the religious world,
and the grand princii>i.-s wliicii ouglit to form a
bond of union among all who acknowledge tlie
tnitli of tiu- Christian Revelation. — if the train of
thought illustrated in the preceding pages be cor-
rect, it will follow, that a cordial union of the
various sections of the Christian church is to be
e.\pected from the cultivation of the Spirit of
Love, more than from any attempt to produce an
exact coincidence of ojiinion on these theological
points in which they now differ. Wherever this
spirit is found e.\panding tlie soul, and governing
the affections, it will lead its possessors to view the
pecnliiir oitinioiis of others with candor ; to respect
their persons ; to allow thein liberty of thonght
on all the subordinate ramifications of theological
sentiment ; and to set a higher value on moral
qualitieations, and the manifestation of benevo-
lent affections, than on tliose circumstantial opin-
ions which do not enter into the essence of the
Christian scheme. If the professing Christian
world were thoroughly investigated, it would be
found, that it is owing more to the absence of
this spirit, that Christians stand so much aloof
from each other, than to the speculative opinions
which they respectively maintain. The prevalent
disposition for sneering at other denominations,
and the pleasure that seems to be felt in laying
open their sores, will generally be found to pro-
ceed from a principle of pride, and of self-conceit
in regard to our own favorite opinions, some of
which, when probed to the bottom, will be fonnd
as rotten as our neighbor's. Why are men not
as much disposed to pass encomiums on what is
sound in the opinions, and laudable in the conduct
of other parties, as they are to censure them for
minor peculiarities of sentiment? Why? Be-
cause it appears, that many professed Christians
take more delight in the exercise of malevolent
feelings than of benevolent affections ; and are
like flies, that pass over the sound parts of a man's
body, and fix upon his sores. Until such unchris-
tian dispositions be undermined, and tempers of
an opposite description pervade the ranks of
Christian society, we can expect no cordial nor
lasting union in the visible church, however many
ingenious schemes may be formed, to bring about
this desirable event. For every effect must have
an adequate cause : this cause will be found to
consist more in the affection than in opinion ;
and a union formed on an apparent coincidence
of sentiment, unmingled with ardent love and
affection, would be unworthy of the name, and
would soon be dissolved.

It can form no decisive mark of a man's Chris-
tianity, that he recognizes the peculiar opinions of
the Baptists or Piedo-Baptists, of Presbyterians,
Episcopalians, or Independents; it is a matter,
comparatively of little importance, whether a
man believes that Christ was an actual or a virtual
Mediator under the Old Testament; whether he
be designated the Son of God in virtue of his
office, or of his nature; whether or not we be
guilty of Adam's first sin; whether the transac-
tion which passed between him and his Creator,
should be viewed as a law, or as a covenant;
whether the ordinance of baptism should be ad-
ministered by dipping, or by sprinkling, &c., &c.
— ^But it is, unquestionably, a matter of the high-
est moment, both to the person himself, and to
Clrristian society, that his temper, affections, and
conduct, should be in unison with the holy law

of God, and that he should display the love which
it requires, in all his social, connnercial, domestic,
and Christian intercourses; — and if such disposi-
tions and conduct were universally to prevail
among the various denominations of the religioua
world, union would soon follow, as a matter of
course. — If, therefore, we wish to behold the un-
happy divisions of the church cemented, let us
cultivate, with ardor, those amiable and affection-
ate dispositions which our benevolent religion
inculcates, and be more anxious to correct our
own mental and moral aberrations, than to mag-
nify the errors and the faults of others. Let us
make every allowance for the effects which edu-
cation, habit, temper, local circumstances, and
particular associations, may have produced on
the opinions of our supposed erring brethren; and
let us consider, that we ourselves, had we been
placed in the same circumstances, might have
imbibed the same sentiments. Let us endeavor
to acquire clear and well-defined ideas on every
subject connected with religion; that we may not
contend about trifles, about mere abstract ideas,
or the aj)plication of particular terms or phrases.
Let us keep our ej'es fixed on the great and pro-
minent objects of revelation, and on all the subor-
dinate active means by which they may be pro-
moted. Let us consider religion as con&isting
more in action, than in speculation. Let our
love to Christian brethren be founded, not so
much on a general coincidence of opinion, as on
the resemblance they bear to the Divine image;
and then we rnay confidently expect, that that
period will soon approach, when the saints of God
"shall see eye to eye," in reference to all the
grand bearings of the Gospel scheme, and when
the name of Jehovah shall be one throughout all
the earth.

IV. We may learn from the subject we have
been illustrating, what notions we ought to form
of the NATURE of a future state of happiness, and
of the PREPARATION requisite to enable us to engage
in its etnploipnents. — The felicity of the future
world will not consist simply in a change of place;
nor will it consist chiefly in change of sentiment
or opinion. Its foundation must be laid in the
principle of Love, and in the complete renovation
of the moral powers of the human mind, without
which no celestial scene could produce permanent
enjoyment. Although all the theologians who
now exist were united in opinion about every ar-
ticle of the system of Divinity; and although they
were transported to the most splendid world that
revolves around the star Arcturus; after the first
transports, arising from the novelty and the gran-
deur of the scene had subsided, they would enjoy
little more happiness in that orb, than they do in
this terrestrial sphere, unless they were actuated
with moral dispositions and affections very differ-
ent from those which many of them now display.
For, not only rancor and malice, but even cold-
ness and indifference to the welfare of others,
would prevent happiness from being enjoyed in
any region of the material universe. All who
believe in the reality of a future world, indulge
in anxious wishes to be made happy when they
pass from this mortal scene to the world of spirits
Even wicked men, whose consciences frequently
forbode evil to them in the other world, indulge
the hope that God will ultimately be merciful
to them, and admit them to the joys of heaven.
But this is impossible, in the very nature of
things, unless they be " renewed in the spirit of
their minds," and endowed with those holy dispo-
sitions which alone can qualify them for relishing
substantial happiness, and for participating in

MEANS OF CHRISTIAN UNION.

147

•*the inheritance of the saints of light." How
could Malignity associate with Benevolence, Con-
tention with Friendship, or War with Peace?
How could the sons of discord dwell in unity, in
an assembly where all is harmony and love?
How could the malicious and revengeful spirit
find delight in the employments of kindness and
pure benignity? How could the man who now
finds his chief pleasure in hounding and horse-
racing, in brawling and fighting, have any relish
for the sublime adorations, the enraptured praises,
and the lofty and refinod contemplations, of the
celestial inhabitants? The thing is impossible,
unless the moral order of all worlds were com-
pletely subverted. Such characters will be ban-
ished from the abodes of bliss; not by any arbi-
trary decree of the Almighty, but in virtue of the
moral constitution of the intelligent universe.

It is, therefore, evident, that tiie happiness of
heaven must be founded upon the exercise of
love, affection, harmony, perfect good-will to fel-
low-intelligences, and the infinite variety of rami-
fications into which such principles may diverge;
eombined with profound, enlightened, and vene-
rable views and affections, in relation to the God
and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. When
these and similar dispositions are uniformly exer-
cised, without the least mixture of any one ingre-
dient of moral evil, it is easy to conceive, with
what transports of delight the inhabitants of hea-
ven will contemplate the displays of Divine Pow-
er, Wisdom, and Goodness, and investigate the
history of his dispensations in the moral govern-
ment of our world, and in the arrangements of
all the other worlds whoso physical and moral
economy may be laid open to their view.*

Such views are in perfect accordance with the
representations of Scripture. — " Without holiness,
no man shall see the Lord." "The pure in
heart (and they alone) shall see God." " Nothing
that worketh abomination, can enter within the
gates of the heavenly city." " As we have bornp
the image of the earthly (says the Apostle), so
Bhall we bear the image of the heavenly." "Christ
Jesus gave himself for the church, that he might
sanctify and cleanse it, and that he might present
It to himself a glorious church, holy, and without
blemish." The crown of glory, reserved in hea-
ven for the faithful, is designated " a crown of
righteousness." " The spirits of just men," in
the future world, " are made perfect," freed from

•The anthor will have an opportunity of illnstrating this
topic in more minute detail, in a work entitled, "TAc Phi-
lasophy of a Future Slate; or, an Illustration of the Con-
Bection of Science with the Eternal World, — and of the
Aids which its discoveries afford, for enabling us to form a
tonception of the perpetual improvement of the celestial
i&liabitants in knowledgeand felicity."

I every taint of moral pollution, and unrestrained
in the exercise of their moral powers. The in-
heritance to which they are destined, is "unde-
filed" with the least stain of corruption, or with
the example of impure and malignant spirits.
" When Christ, who is our life, shall appear, we
shall be like him;" transformed into his moral
image, and animated with those Divine principles
and virtues, which he displayed in h\s conduct,
when he tabernacled among men. The saints
" shall walk with him in wliite," an emblem of
their perfect moral purity; "They shall receive
an inheritance among them that are sanctified,"
and "there shall be no more death, neither sor-
row, nor crying; for the former things shall have
passed away."

V. From the preceding illustrations we may
learn something of the nature and essence of future
punishment. If the exercise of love, in all its
diversified modifications, constitutes the founda-
tion and the essence of happiness, the unrestrained
operations of malevolence must be the source and
the sum of misery. We cannot form a more
dreadful picture of future punishment, than by
conceiving the principles of falsehood, deceit, and
malignity, and the passions of pride, hatred, mal-
ice, and revenge, raging with uncontrolled and
perpetual violence. We need represent to our-
selves nothing more horrible in the place of pun-
ishment, than by supposing the Almighty simply
to permit wicked men to give full scope to their
malevolent dispositions; leaving them " to sat of
the fruit of their own ways, and to be filled with
their own devices." The effects produced by the
uncontrolled operation of such principles and
passions would be such, as may be fitly represen-
ted by the emblems of " the worm that never
dies," of "devouring fire," and of their neces-
sary concomitants, " weeping, and wailing, and
gnashing of teeth." (See Chap. II, Sect, iv, pp.
42-44 ) What other ingredients of misery, aris-
ing either from local circumstances, from the
recollection of the past, or the anticipation of the
future, may be mingled with the cup of future
woe, it becomes not us particularly to determine-
And, whether this scene of misery will ever come
to a termination, must be determined by the con-
sideration, whether the effects produced by such a
punishment will have a tendency to produce re-
pentance and reformation on the minds of tlie
sufferers. If, after a lapse of ages, the princi-
ples of hatred to God, and to surrounding intel-
ligences, continue to operate with increasing
violence, without producing the least desire of
returning to their allegiance to God, or the least
symptom of reformation, — then, we may con-
clude, that the misery of wicked intelligences
will continue so Ions' as they remain in existence.

Vol. I.— 26

ON THE

MENTAL ILLUMINATION

AND

MORAL IMPROVEMENT

OP

MANKIND;

OK,

AN INQUIRY INTO THE MEANS BY WHICH A GENERAL DIFFUSION Ot
KNOWLEDGE AND MORAL PRINCIPLE MAY BE PROMOTED.

ELUSTRATED WITH ENGRAVINGS.

PREFACE.

The traiu of thougtt wtich runs through the following "Work has been familiar to
the Author's mind for upward of twenty-six years. Nearly twenty years ago, he
intended to address the public on this subject : but he is now convinced that, at that
period, the attempt would have been premature, and consequently unsuccessful. He
took several opportunities, however, of suggesting a variety of hints on the necessity
of new-modeling and improving the system of education — particularly in the London
" Monthly Magazine," the " Edinburgh Christian Instructor," the " Christian Recorder,"
the "Perth Courier," and several other publications, as well as in several parts of his
former volumes. — Of late years the attention of the public has been directed to this
subject more than at any former period, and even the British Legislature has been
constrained to take into consideration the means by which the benefits of education
may be more extensively enjoyed. It is therefore to be hoped, that the subject will
now undergo a deliberate and unbiased consideration, corresponding to its interest and
importance.

In endeavoring to establish a new system of education — although every requisite
improvement could not, in the first instance, be effected, — ^yet nothing short of a
comprehensive and efficient system should be the model after which we ought to copy,
and to which all our arrangements should gradually approximate. To attempt merely
to extend the present, in many respects inefl[icient and limited system, without adopting
those improvements which experience and the progress of society have rendered
necessary, would be only to postpone to an indefinite period what must ultimately be
established, if society is expected to go on in its progress toward perfection.

In the following volume the Author has exhibited a brief outline of the whole series
of instructions requisite for man, considered as an intelligent and moral agent destined
to immortality — from the earliest dawn of reason to the period of manhood. Bui it
is merely an oviline; for the subject, considered in all its bearings, is the most extensive
and interesting that can occupy the attention of mankind. Should the present volume,
however, meet with general approbation, some more specific details in reference to the
subjects here discussed, and to other topics connected with the improvement of society,
may afterward be presented to the public.

Several excellent works have lately been published on the subject of education,
some of them recognizing the leading principles which are here illustrated. But the
Author has, in every instance, prosecuted his own train of thought, without interfering
with the sentiments or language of others, unless where it is acknowledged. Some of
the works alluded to he has not had it in his power to peruse ; and the samo current of
thought will sometimes occur to different writers on the samo subject. — The greater
part of this work was composed before the Author had an opportunity of perusing

MU)

ij PREFACE.

the excellent treatise of Mr. Simpson, entitled, " Necessity of Popular Education " —
a work which abounds with liberal and enlightened views, and which recognizes the
same general principles which are hero illustrated. But the two works do not
materially interfere ; and the one may be regarded as a supplement or sequel to the
other, both having a bearing on the same grand object.

It was originally intended to offer a few remarks on classical learning, and on the
system of education which prevails in our colleges and universities ; but the size to
which the volume has swelled has rendered it expedient to postpone them to a future
opportunity. For the same reason, the "Miscellaneous Hints in reference to the
Improvement of Society," and the remarks on " Mechanics' Institutions," have been
much abridged, and various topics omitted which were intended to be particularly
illustrated.

The Author intends proceeding with his promised work " On the Scenery of the
Heavens," as soon as his present engagements will permit.

BbOUQHTY FeRRT, NKA.B DuNDEE.

CONTENTS.

Paok

fimioDUCTiON. — Importance of the object proposed in the following work, and its practicability.
Reasons why it has never yet been accomplished. Prospects of future improvement 9

PART I.

ON SDUCATION.

PftKUMiNART Remarks. — Importance of Education — subject too much overlooked — deficiency in
the arrangements made in reference to this object — desirable that a taste for intellectual
pursuits be induced — what should be the grand object of education. 11

CHAPTER I.

FRKSENT STATE OP EDUCATION IN DIFFERENT COUNTRIES.

Education during the dark ages — erection of colleges — era of the Reformation and the effects
produced by it. — Education in the United States of America — in Silesia, Wirtemberg, Bavaria,
Pnissia, &c. — in France— Spain — Russia — Switzerland 13

CHAPTER II.

STRICTURES ON THE MODE IN WmCH EDUCATION HAS GENERALLV BEEN CONDDCTTED

Different views of the object of education — absurd practices in relation to it — deficiencies in
the mode of religious instruction — summary of the usual scholastic process. Errors and
deficiencies. 1. No communication of ideas. 2. School-books not adapted to the capacities
of youth — specimens of their contents — immorality and absurdity of some of these selections.
i Injudicious exercise of the memory — Shorter Catechism, &c. 4. Absurd attempts at
teaching Grammar — Mr. Smellie's remarks on this subject. Fastidiousness in regard to the
art of Writing. Strictures on the mode of teaching Arithmetic. Various circumstances
which render education disagreeable to the young — want of ample accommodation — long
confinement in school — undue severity — hurrying children from one book to another—
attempts to teach several branches at one time, &c. Glaring deficiencies in the present

practice — attributable to the system more than to the .teachers. Miscellaneous remarks. 18

T

CHAPTER III.

HINTS IN REFERENCE TO A COMPREHENSIVE AND IMPROVED STSTEM OF EDUCATION.

General view of what an enlightened education should embrace. Defects in our treatises on

this subject. Man's eternal destiny overlooked, &c.

30

SECTION I.

ON THE EDUCATION OF THE YOUNG DURING THE PERIOD OF INFANCY.

Gradual opening of the infant mind. Manner in which its ideas are increased — rapidity of
its progress and acquisitions. 1. Phijsical education of infants, importance of, — Food of
Infants— remarks on nursing. Propriety of paying attention to the effects of air and light.
CUanlimsg — anecdote of a Russian. Clothing of children, simplicity of dress — covering of

(▼ >

^ CONTENTS.

the feet— directions in regard to shoes, illustrated by figures. Sleep and exercise of children.
Attention requisite to direct their pronunciation. 2. Moral instruction of infants. Means
of acquiring an absolute authority over them. Plan recommended by Dr. Witherspoou.
Anecdote of Mr. Cecil— rule for securing authority— obstacles which prevent mothers from
acquiring it— general violation of parental authority illustrated— Abbot's " Mother at Home"
recommended— anecdote extracted fronx that work. Importance of attending to truth in the
education of children,- truth and falsehood in pictorial exhibitions. Illustrative anecdote
from Mr. Abbot. General rules on this subject. Habit of incessantly finding fault with
children. Children should feel the consequences of their conduct, and be guarded against
vanity and self-conceit. Danger of frightening children, illustrated by an appalling fact.
Necessity of harmony in the conduct of parents toward their children. 3. Intellectual
instruction of infants. Objects, natural and artificial, which should be presented to their

view mode of conveying a knowledge of the qualities of objects — communication of ideas

by engravings. Experiments on this subject, with a boy about two years old. Importance

of imparting correct ideas to the infant mind. Maternal associations 31

CHAPTERIV.

ON INFANT SCHOOLS.

Objects of infant schools. Proper situation for such institutions, and the apparatus requisite for
conducting them. Method of teaching vocal music, the alphabet, arithmetic, and the facts of
sacred history — figure of the Ariihmeticon. Advantages which would flow from the universal
establishment of infant schools — increase of useful information — formation of intellectual
habits — foundation laid of moral conduct — certainty of success when judicious moral training
is attended to. Moral effects of infant teaching, illustrated by examples. Infant schools,
beneficial to general society and counteractive of juvenile delinquency. Social habits
cultivated with safety. Influence of infant schools on Missionary operations — infant schools
in Africa — such institutions ought to be universally established for all ranks. Qualifications
of teachers in order to render them efficient Origin and progress of infant schools 45

CHAPTER V.

OK SCHOOLS FOR VOUNG PERSONS FROM THE AGE OF FIVE OR SIX TO THE AGE OF FOURTEEN YEARS.

Introductory remarks — plan, situation, and arrangement of school-room, illustrated with cuts.
Idea of a seminary on a large scale. School furniture — Apparatus and Museum — systematic
sets of engravings. Description of a new Optical Diagonal Machine, with figures, —
suggestions to engravers on this subject. Beneficial effects of such schools. School-books,
and the principles on which they ought to be constructed. Specimens of subjects for
elementary books, — objections obviated. Outline of a school-book for the advanced classes,
drawn up twenty-six years ago, — capacity of children for understanding judicious selections, —
third series of school-books, comprising popular systems of the sciences, &c. Historical
class-books, with remarks on the manner in which history should be taught, — propriety of
embellishing school-books with engravings — Dictionaries and portable Cyclopedias 92

CHAPTER VI.

mCTHOD OF TEACHING, AND THE DEFARTJIENT3 OF KNOWLEDGE WHICH SHOULD BE TAUGHT IN EVERT

8EMLNART.

SECTION I.

ENGLISH READING.

Specimen of lessons for children, and the mode in which they should be taught. Lesson on
the Peacock, with an engraving. Lesson on the philosophical toy termed the Sagacious Swan,
with remarks. Lesson for the advanced classes — description of volcanoes, with engravings
Questions on the lesson. Manner in which such questions should be formed and arranged.
Sets of miscellaneous questions. Lessons on objects Gl

CONTENTS. ^

SECTION II.

WRITING AND COMPOSITION.

Mr. Buchanan's plan for teaching writing on slates (with a cut). Professor Jacotot's plan.
Specimens of sentiments and statements of facts for copy lines. Mode of training the young
!q the art of composition G6

SECTION III.

DRAWING.

Mode of procedure in learning this art Fancy landscapes, «fec., should be discarded — drawing
from the objects of nature and art. Utility of this accomplishment 6^

SECTION IV.

ARITHMETIC.

Mode ©f conveying ideas of numbers — the relative value of money — the measures of length and
capacity, of time, and the divisions of the circle (with figures). Sensible illustration of
arithmetical operations (with cuts). Illustration of the value of fractions. Miscellaneous
hints 69

SECTION V .

GRAMMAR.

Absurdities in relation to this subject — Lord Kaimes' opinion on our mode of teaching grammar.
Simple mode of communicating the elements of grammar. Origin of language, suggests the
proper method of teaching it. Fundamental rules of syntax — complexity of some of our
" English Grammars." General remarks 73

SECTION VI.

GEOGRAPHY.

Utility of (his science. Deficiencies in the mode of teaching it. Mode of proving the globular
form of ilift earth, illustrated with figures. Mode of conveying an impressive idea of its
magnUicdc- 'Quantity of solid matter it contains — how many mountains, such as Etna, would
be roqi^ired to lorra a mass equal to the earth. Diversified scenery on the earth's surface,
quantity of waJei in the rivers and seas, &c. Projections and delineations requisite for
illustrating Geogiiphy. Maps exhibiting the ranges of mountains — the proportional length
and breadth of riorrs — comparative size of countries, lakes, and seas — Isothermal charts —
charts of geographic^ Zoology — chart of moral and religious geography, &c. — views of the
cities, grottoes, &c. — s.'aee globes — delineations of the comparative higlits of mountains —
•vai models of particuiai countries, &c. Mode of describing countries. Geographical
eJass-books — what they should contain. Directions for commencing this study. Charac-
«)iistics of certain geographical ;lass-books lately published in America. 77

SECTION VII,

GEOLOGY.

t\s practical utility. Classification ol the rocks and strata of the globe, illustrated with a plate.
Specimens for illustrating geolt.^iiMf facts — books on Geology 83

SECTION VIII.

ASTRONOMY.

Object and utility of this science. Mode of communicating to the young a knowledge of
celestial phenomena. Observations on the inotion of the sun, and the phases of the moon —
the principal stars and constellations — apparent motion of the celestial vault — apparent annual
motion of the sm\— measures of the celestial sphere. Apparent motion of the planets —
experiment which Solves the apparent irregularities. Proofs of the Earth's diurnal rotation —

^ CONTENTS.

of its annual revolution. Mode of explaining the variety of seasons. Manner of exhibiting
the phenomena of the planets, and the magnifying powers best adapted to this purpose.
Circumstances to be attended to in exhibiting the moon through a telescope. Mode of
exhibiting the solar spots. Imperfect conceptions conveyed by orreries and planetariuras.
Manner of representing the proportional magnitudes and distances of the planets. Mode of
explaining a parallax, illustrated by figures. Books on Astronomy — ^Burritt's "Geography
of the Heavens," &c 84

SECTION IX.

EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY AND CHEMISTRY.

Departments of Experimental Philosophy. Mechanical Powers. Experiments illustrative of
Hydrostatical principles (with figures). Simple experiments illustrative of Pneumatical
subjects — pressure, elasticity and compressibility of air — principle of the diving-bell — siphons —
eflfects of the expansion of air, &c. Methods of cutting glass tubes and bending them for
siphons. Optical experiments, for explaining the principles of telescopes and microscopes.
Description of a diagonal eye-piece. Camera obscura, on a large scale. Phantasmagoria, solar
microscope — manner of procuring animalcula. How a compound microscope may be formed
from a common telescopic eye-piece. Experiments with concax>e mirrors. Chemical subjects
and apparatus — Books on Natural Philosophy and Chemistry 91

SECTION X.

MATHEMATICS.

General Remarks on the plan and order in which a knowledge of this subject should be
communicated to young persons 98

SECTION XI.

PHYSIOLOGY.

Inconsistency of omitting this department in a general course of education. Evils which arise
from ignorance of this subject. Distortions of the human frame caused by absurd practices.
Means by which a general knowledge of the human system might be communicated. Figure
exhibiting the thorax and abdomen. Evidences of design in the human fabric. Practical
purposes to which a knowledge of Physiology might be applied 9&

SECTION XII.

LOGIC, OR THE ART OF REASONING.

Utility of this subject. Outline of a comprehensive system of Logic. Popular Logic —
examples of reasoning, with remarks. Subjects for exercising the reasoning powers.
Anecdotes of Gassendi, when a boy, and his mode of reasoning with' his companions.
Analysis of Gassendi's reasoning. Reasoning to prove that, " air exists " — that " all should
enjoy a moral and intellectual education." Sources of error illustrated. SophisTns illustrated.
Particular species of false reasoning. Importance of an early exercise of the rational faculty —
evils which have arisen from false reasoning. Diabolical reasoning — reasoning by physical
force — by torture — by fines and imprisonments — reasoning of persecutors, of mobs, &c.
Powerful influence of Gold in producing conviction 10)

SECTION XIII.

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

An appropriate study for the young. Summary of subjects and facts connected with this study
Other departments of knowledge briefly noticed — Natural History, Botany, Political economy.
Vocal music. Domestic economy. Bodily exerQlses— amusements — and excursions. Female
•dncation — illustrious females — energy of the female mind, and its influence in society. Pre-
vailing misconceptions. Reasons for universal instruction 107

CONTENTS. 1^

CHAPTER VII.

UORAL AND REUGIOUS INSTRUCTION.

Instrnctlon in the knowledge of the Deity. Mode of illustrating the Divine perfections,
exemplified in reference to the Wisdom and the Immensity of God. Instruction in the history
of the Divine dispensations — religion to be taught chiefly from the Scriptures — doctrines and
precepts of Christianity — propriety of a specific application of Scriptural precepts to the
conduct of the young. Moral training particularly exemplified. Manner in which the young
should be directed in the study of the Scriptures. Scripture class-book Ill

CHAPTER VIII..

SABBATH SCHOOLS.

Defects which adhere to the present system of Sabbath-Schools. Qualifications of Sabbath-
School Teachers. Necessity of their being trained to their oflfice. Departments of knowledge
they should study — Sacred History, Ancient Geography, Biblical Criticism, &c. General
remarks on Sabbath-Schools — practices to be avoided, &c. Books on this subject 117

CHAPTER IX.

KmOOLS FOR T0UN6 PERSONS FROM THE AGE OF FOURTEEN TO THE AGE OF TWENTT OR UPWARD.

Necessity of such institutions. Subjects to which this class of young persons should be
directed. Prerequisites to their establishment 121

CHAPTER X.

ON THE QUALIFICATIONS OF TEACHERS AND SEMINARIES FOR THEIR INSTRUCTION.

Deficiency in the qualifications of Teachers — honorable nature of the ofiice— necessity of
training. Preceptoral Colleges, and the subjects to be studied. Examination of candidates.
Importemce of training candidates for teachers. Infant School Teachers. Prussian Normal
Schools 122

CHAPTER XI.

ON THE PRACTICABIUTY OF ESTABLISHING SEMINARIES FOR INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

Number of schools requisite to be established in Scotland and England. Importance of such
institutions, and the necessity for philanthropic exertions. Liberality under the Jewish
economy. Enormous sums expended in war. Pension list Contested elections. Savings
which might be made in personal expenditure. Sums spent on spirituous liquors. Appeed to
Christians. Contributions of the Jews, and predictions in relation to the Christian Church.
Means requisite for exciting attention to this subject Limited views of education taken by
statesmen. Voluntary and compulsory education 125

CHAPTER XII.

ON THE UnUTT OF ESTABLISHING SEMINARIES FOR UNIVERSAL EDUCATION.

1. They would tend to the prevention of Crime. Number of thieves in London — trials at the
Old Baileys-erroneous views of legislation — ir.efliciency of severe punishments — juvenile
delinquency — deficiency of Education in England and Scotland. Beneficial results of
education— Schools, publications, &c., in Boston and New York. Expense of punishing
crime. 2. Universal education would elevate the general character of man. Contrast between
the majority of mankind, and celestial intelligences. Native dignity of man — security of
property dependent on education. 3. Universal education introductory to the Millennium.
Manner in which this era will be introduced — when it will commence. Exertions preceding
the Millennium. Christian generosity and heroism. Story of St. Pierre. Contributions for
the tabernacle and temple. The Pilgrims of New England 131

J CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XIII.

riUNaPLE3 ON WHICH A NATIONAL SYSTEM OF EDUCATION SHtULD BE ESTABLISHED.

Difficulties Brougham's "Education Bill" of 1821. Liberal views in the establishment of

Education. Superintendence of education. Mode of religious instruction. Efficiency of
Scriptural instruction. Harmony of Sectaries in America. Proposed plan of establishing
education ♦ 13~

CHAPTER XIV.

HAXIUS, OR FIRST PRINCIPLES IN EDUCATION.

Ideas should precede tcords — <asis^-exhilarating associations — principle of emulation — corporeal
punisliments — confinement — fixing the attention, &c 14£

CHAPTER XV.

mechanics' INSTITUTIONS.

The author's communications on this subject, in 1814. Condensed view of them. Admission
of members. Subjects of discussion, and mode of conducting it Funds of the Society, and
their application. Publications of the Society. Correspondence with other Societies.
Defects in the objects of Mechanics' Institutions as presently constituted. Suggestions for
their improvement , 144

PART II.

MISCELLANEOUS HINTS IN RXFKRSNCE TO THE DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE AND THE IMFROVKHXNT

OF SOCIETT. •

Introductory remarks, 149. I. Improvements in preaching, 150. II. Union of the Christian
Church, 153. III. Scriptures illustrated by engravings, 154. IV. Abridgment of the hours of
labor necessary to improvement — plan suggested, 154. V. Knowledge promoted by public
exhibitions, 155. VI. Erection of Observatories, &c., &c., 156. VII. Improvement of towns
and villages, 156. VIII. Itinerating Libraries — their origin, plan, and eflfects, 158. IX.
Dolineations and inscriptions on articles of furniture, 159. X. Changes requisite in certain
laws, regulations and customs, 160, XI. Friendly intercourse between nations, 161. XII.
Intellectual and religious improvement of seajnen — Number of, in the British service, 161.
XIII. Formation of societies for promoting improvements, 162. XIV. Counteraction of avarice, 162

APPENDIX.

Insanity from excessive study ' 165'

ON THE

MENTAL ILLUMINATION

AND

MORAL IIPROVEMEIT OF lAIKIND.

INTRODUCTION.

Before we attempt to accomplish any great and
extensive enterprise, it is requisite to ascertain, in
the first place, whether the object we propose be
attainable, and, in the next place, whether, if at-
tained, it would be productive of beneficent effects.
If these points are not ascertained, previous to our
engaging in any undertaking, we may exert our
intellectual faculties, and active powers, and spend
our time, our wealth, and our labor to no purpose,
and in the end meet with nothing but disappointed
expectations. The history of the world, and even
the annals of science, would furnish hundreds of
facts to corroborate this position. The object of
the Alchemists was to transmute earthy substan-
ces and the baser metals into gold, and, by the for-
tunate labor of some happy day, when the stars
were propitious, to realize vast treasures of wealth,
to enable them to live in splendor and opulence
during the remaining period of their lives. In this
visionary pursuit, wlaich, for several centuries, oc-
cupied the attention of princes, statesmen, eccle-
eiastics, physicians, and experimenters of various
descriptions, thousands of fortunes were irretrieva-
bly wasted, and the dupes of this fallacious science
kept in perpetual anxiety, and amused with vain
and unfounded expectations. Even although such
schemes had been practicable — which experience
proves they are not — it would not be difficult to
show, that, had they been successful, they would
have produced more misery than happiness among
mankind. The study of the heavens, with the view
of foretelling future events, and the destinies of
men, from the different aspects of the planets and
the signs of the Zodiac, was another scheme
which, for many ages, absorbed the attention of
kings, legislators, popes, cardinals, and even men
of science, as well as that of the illiterate vulgar,
— and, in numerous instances, no public affair of
any importance was undertaken, without first
consulting the stars. This fallacious art has like-
wise been proved impracticable, and inconsistent
with the peace and happiness of mankind. The
researches which were long made after the pana-
cea, or universal remedy for all disorders — the
search for an universal menstruum and ferment
— the search for a medicine which will confer
Immortality even in this world — the attempts to
discover mines by means of divining-rods — and
to cure palsies, inflammations, obstructions, and
other disorders, by animal magnetism and metallic
tractors — and, above all, the attempt to conduct
mankind to happiness by discarding the idea of a
Divine Being and every species of religion from
the plans proposed — with hundreds of similar
Bchemes, — may be regarded nearly in the same
light as the foo Ish arts of astrologers and alche-

mists, and could easily be shown to be equally
unprofitable and vain.

In endeavoring to promote a general diffusion
of knowledge among the various ranks of society,
it becomes us likewise to inquire, whether the
attempt would be accompanied with such benefi-
cial effects as to warrant the labor and expense
which must necessarily attend such an enter-
prise— and, whether any insurmountable diffi-
culties stand in the way of its accomplishment.
There are not wanting, even amidst the light of
science which is now shining around us, many
individuals in the higher classes of society who are
bold enough to insinuate, that an increase of know-
ledge would be injurious to the lower ranks of the
community — that its accomplishment is both un-
desirable and impracticable — that the moral world
will proceed onward as it has hitherto done — that
there is no possibility of meliorating the condition
of the great mass of mankind — and that it is alto-
gether Utopian to attempt to direct the moral and
intellectual energies of the human race into any
other channel than that in which they have hith-
erto been accustomed to flow. Such insinuations
evidently flow from a spirit of misanthropy, and
are intended, if possible, to fix the moral world in
a quiescent state, as the material world was sup-
posed to be in former times, and to damp every
exertion that is now making to promote the im-
provement and the happiness of our species. They
are likewise inconsistent with the dictates of Di-
vine Revelation, which plainly declare that "the
knowledge of Jehovah shall cover the earth, as the
waters cover the channels of the seas," and that
" all shall know him, from the least to the
greatest."

In a work lately published, I have endeavored
to illustrate, at considerable length, some of the
advaniapes which loould result from a general diffu-
sion of knowledge, which, I presume, will tend to
substantiate the position, that an increase of know-
ledge among all ranks would be productive of an
increase of enjoyment. If a more extensive dif-
fusion of knowledge would have a tendency to
dissipate those superstitious notions and false
alarms which have so long enslaved the minds of
men — to prevent numerous diseases and fatal acci-
dents— to accelerate the improvement of the
physical sciences — to increase the pleasures and
enjoyments of mankind — to promote the progress
of tiie liberal and mechanical arts — to administer
to the comforts of general society — to prepare the
way for new inventions and discoveries — to ex-
pand our views of the attributes and moral govern-
ment of the Deity — to advance the interests of
morality — to prepare the mind for the pleasures

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10

INTRODUCTION.

and employments of the future world — to pro-
mote a more extensive acquaintance with the evi-
douces, facts, and doctrines of Revelation — to
prepare the way for tlie establishment of peace
and hannony among the nations, and to promote
the union and the extension of the Christian
church; — if such positions can be fairly proved,
every philanthropist and every rational and well-
directed mind will readily admit, that a more
general cultivation of the human intellect, and a
more extensive diffusion of rational information,
are highly desirable, and would be productive of
the most auspicious and beneficial results, in
reference both to the present interests and the
future prospects of mankind.

With regard to the practicability of this object,
no rational doubt can be entertained, if the moral
machinery requisite for its accomplishment were
once thoroughly set in motion. Whatever Man
has hitherto achieved, Man may still accomplish. If
minds, once feeble and benighted, and ignorant as
the wild ass's colt, have, by proper training, been
raised near the highest pitch of moral and intellec-
tual attainments, other minds, by similar training,
may be elevated to the same degree of perfection.
If nations, once rude and ignorant, as the Britons
formerly were, have been raised to a state of civi-
lization and refinement, and excited to cultivate
the arts and sciences, the same means by which
this object was accomplished, may still be em-

floyed in other cases to produce the same effect,
f several portions, however small, of any civilized
community, have been brought to a high state of
intellectual improvement, it is evident, that the
greater pai-t, if not the whole, may be advanced
into a similar state. It only requires that the
means of instruction be simplified and extended,
and brought within the reach of every one whose
faculties are capable of cultivation. That this
object has never yet been effected, is not owing to
ita impracticability, or to any insuperable obstacles
which lie in the way of its accomplishment; but
because the attention of mankind has never yet
been thoroughly directed to it: and because the
means requisite for promoting it have never been
employed on a scale proportionate to the extent
and magnitude of the enterprise. The influential
classes of society, in every country, have been
more absorbed in the pursuits of avarice, ambition,
war, devastation, and sensual gratifications, than in
meliorating the physical and moral condition of
their species. The tenth part of the treasures
which have been wasted in the prosecution of such
mad and immoral pursuits, had it been properly
directed, would have been more than sufficient to
have brought the means of instruction within the
reach of every individual of the human race, and
to have transformed the barren wastes of every
country into the appesirance of a terrestrial para-

dise. There is no government under heaven, so fai
as we are acquainted (if Prussia and the United
States of America be not excepted), where tho
instruction of the great mass of the people forms
a prominent and specific object in its administra-
tion. On the contrary, in several instances, even
within the limits of Europe, it is well known, that
the intellectual instruction of the lower orders
is prohibited by a law.* Even in Great Britain, '
where the light of science shines with peculiar .
effulgence, the exertions of philanthropists have :
been damped in their attempts to diffuse knowledge j
among the people; heavy <aa:es have been imposed I
on the means of its diffusion; men of knowledge '
have been persecuted and neglected, while men
devoted to war and bloodshed have been loaded
with wealth, and exalted to the highest stations
of dignity and honor; no national scheme, sup-
ported by the state, has ever yet been devised for
its universal propagation among all ranks, and no
sums set apart for this purpose, while the treasure*
of the nation have been wasted in extravagance,
and, in too many instances, devoted to the support
of vice, tyranny, and intolerance.

But we trust that the breath of a new spirit is
now beginning to animate the councils of the na-
tion and the great body of the people; — and when
the means within our power of extending the
blessings of knowledge shall be employed with
energy and judgment, we may expect, ere long,
to behold a generation rising up, in intelligence
and moral action, superior to all the generations
that have gone before it — improving the soil,
adorning the landscape, promoting the progress
of the useful arts, enlarging the boundaries of
science, diffusing the blessings of Christianity
over the globe, giving an impulse to every phi-
lanthropic movement, counteracting the spirit of
war, ambition, and licentiousness, cultivating
peace and friendly correspondence with sur-
rounding nations, and fonning an impregnabla
bulwark around every government where tha
throne is established in truth and in right-
eousness.

To state and illustrate the various means by
which a more extensive diffusion of knowledge
may be effected, and the general improvement
of society promoted, is the main object of the
following pages, in which the state of education
in our country, and the principles on which it
ought to be conducted, shall occupy our first,
and our chief attention.

* For example, — A Royal Sardinian edict, pablished in
1825, enjoins, " that henceforth no person shall learn to read
or write who cannot prove the possession of property above
the value of 15U0 livres," or about X62 10*. sterling. And
it is well known, that the greater part of the lower claswt
in Russia, Austria, and Poland, are, from their sitnatioB(
debarred from the benelits of instmction.

PART I.

ON EDUCATION

PRELIMINARY REMARKS.

There is, perhaps, nothing of more importance
to the human race, and which has a more direct
bearing on the happiness of all ranks, than tlie
cultivation of the mental faculties, and the acqui-
sition of substantial knowledge. Whether we
consider man as a transitory inhabitant of this
lower world, or as in a state of progression to
another region of existence — it is of the utmost
importance, that he be thoroughly acquainted
with the Great Author of his existence, with the
general structure of the universe in which he is
placed, with the relations in which he stands to
his fellow-men, and the other beings which sur-
round him, with the duties he ought to discharge
to his Creator, and to his own species, with the
nature of that eternal world to which he is des-
tined, and with that train of action and of con-
templation which will prepare him for the enjoy-
ments of a future and eternal state. All the other
objects which can employ the attention of the
human mind must evidently be viewed as in some
degree subordinate to these. For, on the acquisi-
tion of the knowledge to which we allude, and
tlie corresponding course of conduct to which it
leads, depends the happiness of man, considered
both as an individual, and as a member of the
great family to which he belongs — his happiness
both in the present life, and in the life to come.

Nothing, however, appears to have been more
overlooked, in the general arrangements of society,
than the selection of the most proper means by
which such important ends are to be accomplished.
In those nations and societies which, in their pro-
gress from barbarity, have arrived at only a half-
civilized state, the acquisition of the means of
subsistence, and of those comforts which promote
their sensitive enjoyment, forms almost the exclu-
•ive object of pursuit; and it is not before they
have arrived at a certain stage of civilization, that
moral and Intellectual improvement becomes an
object of general attention. And, even in those
nations which have advanced farthest in the path
of science and of social refinement, the cultivation
of the human mind, and the details of education,
are not considered in that serious light which their
importance demands. Almost everything else is
attempted to be accurately adjusted, while the
moral and intellectual improvement of the mass
of the community is left either to the direction of
chance, or to the injudicious schemes of weak and
ignorant minds. Every one who has acquired a
smattering of English grammar and arithmetic,
and who can write his own name, conceives that
he is qualified to conduct the intellectual hnprove-
ment of the young; the most illiterate and super-
ficial pedants have intruded themselves into the
office of teachers; those who have never had the
least experience in the art of teaching, nor have
studied its principles, have assumed the preroga-
tive of dictating the arrangements and discipline
of a school; and hence, the oftice of a teacher of
youth, which is one of the most important and
respectable in the social system, has frequently

been considered as connected with the meanest
talents, and with the lowest gradations in society.
Great Britain has long held a distinguished rank
among the nations of Europe in the scale of
science and of civilization, and on account of the
mumerous seminaries of instruction which have
been established in every quarter of the island-
Excepting Prussia, the United States of America,
and the mountains and vales of Switzerland, there
are few countries in which education is more gen-
erally appreciated and more widely diffused than
in the northern district of Great Britain; and the
effects produced by our literary and scholastic
establishments are apparent in the desire for know-
ledge, and the superior intelligence which charac-
terize the different ranks of our population. When
we compare ourselves in this respect with the
Russian boors, the Laplanders, the Calmucks, the
Cossacks, or the Tartars, or even with the inhab-
itants of Naples, of Spain, or of Portugal, we
seem to stand on an eminence to which they can
scarcely hope to approach for a lapse of age&
On the other hand, v/hen we compare ourselves
with what we ought to be, as beings possessed of
rational natures, and destined to immortality, and
as surrounded with the light of science and of
revelation, — we shall find that we are, as yet, but
little more than just emerging from the gloom of
moral depravity and mental darkness. When we
consider the mass of depravity which is still
hovering around us, the deplorable ignorance,
the superstitious notions, the false conceptions in
regard to many important truths, the evil pas-
sions, and the groveling affections, which so gen-
erally prevail, we must acknowledge that much,
much indeed, remains to be accomplished, before
the great body of the people be thoroughly en-
lightened in the knowledge of all those subjects
in which they are interested, as rational, account-
able, and immortal beings, and before they can
be induced to give a decided preference to moral
pursuits and intellectual pleasures. And, if this
is the case in a nation designated civilized and
enlightened, how thick must be the darkness
which broods over the inhabitants of other re-
gions of the globe, how deep the moral debase-
ment into which they are sunk, and how many
vigorous efforts must be requisite, ere they can
be raised to the true dignity of moral and intel-
lectual agents ? If ever this important object is
to be accomplished — which the predictions of an-
cient prophesy leave us little room to doubt — it is
nov/ high time that we arouse ourselves from our
slumbers, and engage with increased activity and
zeal in the work of reformation and of rational
instruction. Let us not imagine that the preach-
ing of the gospel, in the dull and formal manner
by which it is at present characterized, will effec-
tuate this great object, without the use of all the
efficient means of juvenile instruction we can de-
vise. While we boast of the privileges of our
favored land, of the blessings of Divine Revelation,
and of the enlightened era in which we live; and

(11)

12

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

while we are endeavoring to impart to distant na-
tions the blessings of science and of the Clirislian
religion; — let us not forget, that there are thoii-
*sands of the young gemiration around us, under
the show of having obtained a good education,
rising up in life, in a state of ignorance and vice,
in consequence of the superficial and injudicious
modes by which they have been tutored, and
whicii prevent them from profiting by the instruc-
tions of the ministers of religion.

While the great body of mankind must neces-
sarily be engaged in manual employments, and
while it is essential to their happiness, as well as
to their bodily subsistence, that a portion of their
time be thus employed, — it would be a highly de-
sirable object to induce upon their minds a taste
for intellectual pursuits, and for those pure enjoy-
ments which flow from a contemplation of the
works and providence of the Creator, and of those
moral laws and arrangements whicii he has or-
dained for promoting the social order and the eter-
nal happiness of mankind, in which those hours
not devoted to worldly business might be occa-
sionally employed. As man is a being compound-
ed of a corporeal organized structure, and a system
of intellectual powers, it evidently appears to have
been the intention of the Creator tliat he should
be frequently employed both in action and in con-
templation. But when his physical powers only
are set in motion, and the principal object of his
activity is to supply the wants of his animal frame,
he can be considered as little superior to the lower
orders of animated existence, and must, in a great
measure, frustrate the end of the Creator in be-
stowing upon him the faculties of his rationalnature.
■ In order to raise mankind from the state of
mental darkness and moral degradation into which
they have fallen, it is essentially requisite, that the
utmost care be bestowed on the proper direction
of the youthful mind, in its first excursions in the
physical and moral world; for when it has pro-
ceeded a certain length, amidst the mists of igno-
rance and the devious ways of vice, it is extreme-
ly difficult, if not impossible, to recall it from its
wanderings to the path of wisdom and felicity. In-
etructions, noj^ merely in reference to sounds and

accents, and accurate pronunciation, but also in
relation to important facts, and the various prop-
erties and relations of objects around them
must be communicated at an early age; and
not merely the names, but the ideas, of the most
interesting objects in the physical and intellectual
world, must be conveyed by a succession of well
defined mental imagery, and sensible illustrations,
so as to arrest and impress the juvenile mind, and
excite its energies and affections in the pursuit of
knowledge and virtue. Without an attention to
this important object, the business of elementary
instruction appears to regard rnan rather as a
mere machine than as a rational and immor-
tal being, and seems to belittle short of an insult
offered to the human understanding. The ulti-
mate object of all scholastic instruction ought
undoubtedly to be, to convey to youthful minda
substantial knowledge, to lead them gradually
into a view of the nature and qualities of the ob-
jects with which they are surrounded, of the gen-
eral appearances, motions, and machinery of ex-
ternal nature, of the moral relations in which they
stand to the Great Author of their existence, and
to one another, and of the various duties which
flow from these relations, — to direct their affec-
tions, tempers, and passions, in such a channel as
will tend to promote their own comfort, and tha
harmony of general society, and to prepare them
for the nobler employments of an immortal exis-
tence. Such moral and intellectual instructions
ought to go hand in hand with the acquisition of
the various combinations of sounds and syllables,
and with the mechanical exercises of writing and
ciphering; otherwise the beneficial consequences,
which should result from instruction in the com-
mon branches of education, will be few and unim-
por.tant. Whether the prevailing modes of edu-
cation in this country be calculated to promote the
ends now stated, will appear, when we come to in-
vestigate the range of our elementary instruction,
and the circumstances connected with the manner
of its communication. Before proceeding to this
investigation, I shall take a rapid view of the
present state of education in different civilized na-
tions.

CHAPTER I.

PRESENT STATE OF EDUCATION IN DIFFERENT COUNTRIES.

For a long period, even after the introduction
of Christianity among the nations of Europe, the
education of the young seems to have been in a
great measure neglected. The records of history
afford us no details of any particular arrangements
that were made either by the church or the state
for promoting this Important object. During the
long reign of Papal superstition and tyranny,
which lasted for nearly a thousand years, the in-
struction of the young appears to have been en-
tirely set aside, or, at least, to have formed no
prominent object of attention. The common
people grew up, from infancy to manhood, igno-
rant of the most important subjects, having their
understandings darkened by superstition, their
moral powers perverted, and their rational facul-
ties bewildered and degraded, by an implicit sub-
mission to the foolish ceremonies and absurdities
inculcated by their ecclesiastical dictators; aiad

even many in the higher ranks of life, distinguish
ed for their wealth and influence in society, were
so untutored in the first elements of learning,
that they could neither read nor write. Ignorance
was one of the foundations on which the splen-
dor and tyranny of the Romish hierarchy wer»
built, and therefore it would have been contrary
to its policy, and the schemes it had formed of
universal domination, to have concerted any mea-
sures for the diffusion of knowledge and the en-
lightening of mankind. We read of no nation or
community, during the dark ages, that devised
plans for the rational and religious instruction of
youth, excepting a poor, oppressed, and despised
people, " of whom the world was not worthy" —
the pious and intelligent, but persecuted Waldense$.
It appears that a system of instruction prevailed
among these inhabitants of the valleys of Piedmont,
seven hundred years ago, more rational and effi-

STATE OF EDUCATION IN AMERICA.

13

cient than has yet been established in the British
Isles.

It was not until the era of the Reformation that
seniiii'iries for tlie instruction of the young began
to be organized and ' permanently established.
Prior to this period, indeed, colleges and univer-
sities had been I'oiinded in most of the countries of
Christendom; but the instructions communicated
in those seats of learning were chietly confineJ to
tin priestly order, and to llie sons of tlie nobil-
ity, who aspired after the highest and most lucra-
tive olBces under the hierarchy of Rome. Their
influence was scarcely felt by the "nass of the
people; and the origin of the earli.-stof these sem-
inaries cannot be traced much beyond the begin-
ning of the thirteenth century. These new estab-
lishments, however, with the academical honors
they conferred on proficients in knowledge, gave a
powerful impulse to the study of science, and
greatly increased the number of those who devo-
ted themselves to the pursuits of learning. It is
said, that, in the year 12&2, there were no less than
ten thousand students in the university of Kolog-
ua, although law was the only science taught in
it at that time; and that in the year 1340, there
were thirty thousand studenfs in the university
of O.xford. But the education of the middling and
lower classes of society was still miserably neglect-
ed. Even in those countries which have since
been distinguished for scholastic establishments, a
universal apathy seems to have prevailed, in regard
to the acquisition of knowledge, and of the first
elements of education. In the year 1494, a few
years before Luther began to assail the Romish
Church, it was enacted by the Parliament of Scot-
land, "that all barons and substantial freeholders
throughout the realm should send their children
to school, from the age of six to nine years, and
then to other seminaries, to be instructed in the
laws, that the country might be possessed of per-
sons properly qualified to discharge the duties of
sheriffs, and other civil offices." Tiiose who ne-
glected to comply with the provisions of this
statute, were subjected to a penalty of twenty
pounds Scots. This enactment evidently implies,
that even the influential classes of society, at that
period, paid little attention to the education even
of the male branches of their families, and, of
course, that those in the lowest ranks must have
been generally, if not altogether deprived of this
inestimable privilege. It was only after the pass-
ing of this act, as Dr. Henry remarks, thai several
individuals began to be distinguished for their
classical acquirements, and that learning was nmch
more generally difTused throughout tlie country.

At the lime of the revival of learning, soon after
the Reformation, a new impulse was given to the
human mind, a bold spirit of inquiiy was excited
in the laity, when the vices of the Romish clergy
were exposed, and their impositions detected; tlie
(ihsurdit'y of nwny tenets and practices authorized
by the church was discovered; the futility of the
arguments by which illiterate monks attempted
to defend them was perceived; the mystic theo-
logy of the schools was set aside, as a system
equally unedifying and obscure; the study of an-
cient literature was revived; the attention was
directed to the sacred Scriptures, as the only
Btandard of religious truth, the legendary tales of
monkish superstition were discarded, a taste for
ftseful knowledge was induced, — and from that
period, seminaries for the instruction and im-
provement of the juvenile mind, began to be
gradually established in many of the countries
of Europe; — although they are still miserably
deficient both in point of number, and in the
Vol, L—Z7

range of instruction which they profess to com-
municate.— The following is a brief view of the
present state of education in various countries; —

United States of America, — Altliough tlie sys-
tem of education has never yet arrived nearly at
perfection, in any nation, yet the inhabitauls of
the United States may be considered, on the
whole, as the best educated people in the world.
\Vith a degrtfc of liberality and intelligence wiiich
reflects the highest honor on their character, they
have made the most ample provision for the ele-
mentary instruction of all classes; and mjst of
their arrangements, in reference to this object,
appear to be dictated by disinterested benevolence,
and by liberal and enlarged views of what is re-
quisite to proine e the moral improvement of so-
ciety. In thj New States, one square mile in
every township, or one thirty-sixth part of all the
lands, has been devoted to the support of conimoQ
schools, beside seven entire townships for the
endowment of larger seminaries. In the older
Stales, grants of land have frequently been made
for the same purposes; but in New England all
sorts of property are assessid for the support of
the primary schools, which are established in
every township. — The following extract from a
speech of Mr. Webster, a distinguished member
of Congress, in a convention held at Massachu-
setts in 1821, displays the principles and practical
operation of this system, and the grand design it
is intended to accomplish: — "For the purpose of
public instruction," said this illustrious senator,
"we hold every man subject to taxatioii in pro-
portion to his property; and wo look not to tho
question, whether he himself have or have not
children to be benefited by the education for
which he pays; wo regard it as a wise and libera,
system of police, by which property and life, and
the peace of society, are secured. We hope tc
excite a feeling of respectability, and a sense of
character, by enlai'ging the capacities and increas-
ing the sphere of intellectual enjoyment. By
general instruction, we seek so far as possible, to
purify the moral atmosphere; to keep good senti-
ments uppermost, and to turn the strong current of
feeling and opinion, as welt as the censures of
law, and the denunciations of religion, against
immoralitj'' and crime. We hope for a security
beyond the law and above the law, in the preva-
lence of enlightened and well-principled moral
sentiment. We hope to continue and to prolong
the time, when, in tho villages aiid farm-houses
of New England, there may be undisturbed sleep
within unbarred doors. VVe do not indeed ex-
pect all men to be philosophers or statesmen; but
we confidently trust, that by the difl'u.sion of gen-
eral knowledge and good and virtuous sentiments,
the political fabric may be secure, as well against
open Violence and overthrow, as against the
slow but sure undermining of licentiousness.
Wc rejoice that every man in this community
may call all property his own, so far as he has
occasion for it to furnish for himself ana his
children the blessings of religious instruction, and
the elements of knowledge, 'i'his celestial and
this earthly light he is entitled to by the fundamen-
tal laws. It is every poor man's undoubted birth-
right— it is the great blessing which this consti-
tution has secured to him — it is his solace in lii'e —
ami it may well he his consolation in death, that
his country stands pledged, by the faith which it
has plighted to all its citizens, to protect his child-
ren from ignorance, barbarity, and vice."

These are noble sentiments and views, worthy
of being adopted and reduced to practice by
©very government under heaven; and we trust Ihd

14

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

period is not far distant wlieii the British senate,
and every otlier legislative assembly in Europe,
shall have tlieir attention directed to tlie arrange-
ment of a system of universal edncat'mn, on an ex-
pansive and liberal rscale, and with such generous
and disinterested objects in view.

Tliere are no states in the Union, nor perliaps
In any counti-y in the world, so amply provided
with tiie means of instruction, as the States of
New York and New England. In New York,
in IS^'J, there wore no less than 86! )1) common
schools, atFording education to 468,205 young per-
sons,'which was rather more than n fourth part of
tiio entire population! and it is probable, that,
since that period, tlie number has considerably
increased. In Scotland, whicn is reckoned one
of the best educated countries in Europe, it is
found that only one in eleven, out of the entire
])opuiation, has the benefit of education. — In
New England, free schools have been endowed
by benefactions from different individuals, — and
tlie funds thus bequeathed by charity, or public
spirit, have not been devoured by the cormorants
of a grasping oligarchy, but prudently and care-
fully administered. — The education given at these
Bcliools, too, is vastly superior to what is obtained
at our parish schools. " The general plan of
education at tlie public free schools here," says
Mr. Stuart,* "is not confined to mere reading,
writing, arithmetic and book-keeping, and the
ancient and modern languages, but comprehends
grammar, mathematics, navigation, geography,
history, logic, political economy, rhetoric, moral
and natural philosophy. These schools being, as
stated in the printed regulations, intended to oc-
cupy the young people from the age of four to
seventeen, and to form a system of education, ad-
vancing from the lowest to the highest degree of
improvement which can be derived from any lite-
rary seminaries inferior to colleges and universi-
ties, and to afford a practical and theoretical
acquaintance with the various branches of useful
education. There are at present in Boston, 68 free
schools, beside 23 Sabbath schools, in all of which
the poorest inhabitant of Boston may have his
children educated, according to the system of
education now specified, from the age of four to
seventeen, without any expense whatever. The
children of both sexes are freely admitted. The
funds of those schools are derived from funds and
bequests from individuals, and grants from the
legislature and corporations; and enable the trus-
tees, consisting of twelve citizens elected by tlie
inhabitants of each of the twelve wards of the
city, with the mayor and eight aldermen, to give
the teachers salaries, varying from 2500 to 800
dollars a-year. The assistant teachers have 600
dollars. The trustees elect their teachers, and
vote their salaries yearly, and no preference ts
ffiven on any principles but those of merit or skill.
No expense whatever is in(!!5rred in these schools
for the children, except in books. The richer
classes in Boston formerly very generally patron-
ized teachers of private schools, who were paid in
the usual way; but they now find that the best
teachers are at the head of the public schools,
and in most cases prefer them — the children of
the highest and lowest rank enjoying the privi-
lege, altogether invaluable in a free state, of be-
ing educated together.

" In the adjoining State of Connecticut, it has
been ascertained by actual reports, that one-third
of the population of about 275,000, attend the
free schools. The result of the recent inquiry

• "Three Years' .Residence in North Arneuca."

into the state of education in the State of New
York, wliich adjoins New England, and is almost
equal to it in population, is very much, though
not entirely the same. — It proved by actual re-
ports, that 49y,131 children, out of a population
of 1,900,000, were at the same time attending the
schools, that is, a fuurth part of the whole popu-
lation. Although the public funds of New Yorii
State are great, these schools arc not entirely
free; but free to all who ajiply for immunity from
payment. The amount of the money paid to the
teachers, by private persons, does not, however,
amount to one-third of the whole annual expense,
which is somewhat less than a million of dollars."

Beside the seminaries appropriated to the in-
struction of the mass of the population, the
United States contain no less than seventy col-
leges, in which the ancient and modern languages,
the mathematical sciences, Natural Philosophy,
Chemistry, Logic, Christian Theologj'-, and other
branches, are regularly taught, as in the Euro-
pean universities; but with more attention to the
moral and religious conduct of the students^
About the time of the American Revolution, in
1775, there were 10 colleges; from 1775 to 1800,
13 were established; from 1800 to 1814, 11 were
added; and from 1814 to 1834, no less than 38
colleges have been establislied. In these colleges,
5500 students are prosecuting their education, in
the different departments of Literature and Sci-
ence.— The American Education Society is just now
educating 912 young men for the ministry; the
Preshytcrian Education Society has 612 students
under its charge; the Northern Baptist Society haa
250. The vs^hole number at present educated by
these Societies, including the Episcopalian, Ger-
man, Lutheran, &c., is 2000. These are exclu-
sive of a very large number who are pajMng tha
expenses of their own education, and who are
equally pious and promising.

It is to the numerous establishments of educa
tion — the extensive range of instruction they
embrace — the opportunities of instruction afforded
to the lowest classes of the community — the su-
perior degree of comfort they enjoy — and to the
elevation of character promoted by their free
institutions, that we are to attribute the non-ex-
istence, in most parts of tlie United States, of
what is usually termed a mob or rabble, and that
depredations are less frequent, and property
more secure, than in other countries. In the
Southern States, indeed, the means of education
are not so extensive, nor has society advanced to
such a state of moral and mental improvement,
as in the Northern. The reason is obvious.
These States, with a most glaring inconsistencif,
still continue the abettors of slavery, in its most
disgusting forms. More than one-half of their
population consists of slaves, who are deemed
unworthy of enjoying the blessings even of a
common education. A spirit of haughtiness
and domination prevails among the intluentiaJ
classes, barbarous amusements among the lower;
and Christian morals, the finer feelings of hu-
manity, and intellectual acquisitions, are ton
frequently disregarded.

Silesia. — This country, in consequence of the
exertions of Frederick the Great, is now richly
furnished with scholastic establishments. Prior
to 1765, Silesia, like the rest of Europe, was but
wretchedly provided either with schools or with
teachers. In the small towns and villages, the
schoolmasters were so poorly paid, that they could
not subsist without practicing some other trade
beside their occupation as instructors, and they
usually united the character of the village fiddle*

EDUCATION IN SILESIA.

15

with that of the villag^e schoohnaster. Frederick
issued an ordinance, tliat a school should be kept
ill every village, and that a competent subsistence
should be provided for the schoolmaster by the
joint contribution of the lord of the village and
the tenants. Felbigcr, an Augustine monk, be-
longing to a convent at Sagan, traveled to ditFc-
rent countries to obtain an acquaintance with the
best modes of teaching. Alter spending some
years at Berlin, to obtain a perfect knowledge of
the best method of instruction in the schools of
that city, he returned to Sagan, and made tiie con-
vent to which he belonged a seminary for candi-
dates as schoolmasters. Pattern schools were es-
tablished at Breslaw, Glatz, and other places, on
the principles he had adopted, and all candidates
for the office of teachers, were obliged to attend
these seminaries, and to practice. the method in
which they were there instructed. The clergy,
no less than the teachers, were required to go
through this process, because the superintendence
of the teachers was to be committed to them.
After these preparatory lAitters had been carried
into effect, an ordinance was published in the
year 1765, prescribing the mode of teaching, and
the manner in which the clergy should superin-
tend the system. -The teachers were directed to
give plain instruction, and upon subjects applica-
ble to the ordinary concerns of life ; not merely
to load the memory of their scholars with words,
but to make things intelligible to their under-
standing, to habituate them to the use of their
own reason, by explaining every object of their
lesson, so that the children themselves may be
able to explain it, upon examination. The school
tax must be paid by the lord and tenants, without
distinction of religions. The boys must all be
sent to school from their sixth to their thirteenth
year, whether the parents are able to pay the
school tax or not. For the poor the school
money must be i-aised by collections. Every
patent or guardian who neglects to send his
child or pupil to school, without sufficient cause,
is obliged to pay a double tax, for wliicii the
guardian shall have no allowance. Every curate
must examine, weekly, the children of the school
of his parish. A general examination must be
held annnalh', by the deans pf the districts, of
the schools within their respective precincts;
and a report of the condition of the schools, the
talents and attention of the schoolmasters, the
state of the buildings, and the attendance of the
children, made to the office of the vicar-general,
who is bound to transmit all these reports-to the
royal domain offices, from which orders are issued
to supply the deficiencies of the schools, and to
correct any abuses that may be found to prevail.
If one school suffice for more than one village,
neither of them must be more than half a German
mile, or two and one-fourth British miles, dif^tant
from it in the flat country, nor more than half
tliat distance in the mountainous parts.

This system had at first many dilficulties to
struggle with, from the indolence of the Catholic
clergy, and their consequent aversion to the new
and troublesome duty imposed upon them. Their
zeal was alarmed at the danger arising from this
diffusion of light to the stability of their church.
They considered the spirit of innovation, and the
spirit of inquiry, as equally their natural enemies;
and the system still finds a certain degree of resis-
tance from the penurious economy, and the stub-
born love of darkness, which still prevail in some
parts of this province. But in so far as it has
been acted upon, its operation has proved a
blessmg to multitudes. As a proof of its exten-

sive effects, the number of schools, in 1752,
amounted only to 1552; but in 1798, their jium-
ber was more than 3500; and many other facts,
equally clear, attest the progressive increase of
knowledge, and a desire for improvement. Be-
fore the seven years' war, there had scarcely ever
been more than one periodical journal or gazette
published in Silesia at one time; but in 1801,
there were no less than seventeen newspapers
and m-tigazines, which appeared by the day, the
week, the month, or the quarter; many of them
upon subjects generally useful, and containing
valuable information and instruction for the peo-
ple. At the former period, there were but three
booksellers, and all these at Breslaw; but in 1801,
there were six in that capital, and seven dispersed
in the other cities. The number of printing
presses, and of bookbinders, had increased in a
similar proportion. Agriculture and manufac-
tures, too, have been vastly improved and ex-
tended; so that Silesia is, at this moment, one of
the most flourishing districts of the Continent.
The habits of the people have been signally im-
proved; and they have become among the most
intelligent, orderly, and industrious, in Europe.*
Wirtemhurg, Baden, Bavaria, SfC. — In Wi'rtem-
berg, during the last thirty years, the system of
education has been very greatly extended and im-
proved. A public school is established in every
pariah, and, in some instances, in every ham.et.
The master receives, as in Scotland, a fixed salary
from the parish, exclusive of a small fee from the
pupils, varying according to their age, and the
subjects in which they are instructed The fees
are fixed by government, and are everywhere the
same. Exclusive of the salaries and fees, the
masters are furnished with a house, a garden, and,
in most instances, a few acres of ground, corres-
ponding to the glehes of the Scottish clergy. The
law requires that the children should be instructed
in* reading, writing, and arithmetic; and it is
specially enacted, that they shall be instructed in
the principles of German grammar and composi-
tion. Tile books used in the schools of Wirtem-
berg and Baden, are very superior to those used
in similar establishments in this country. They
consist of geographical, biographical, and histori-
cal works, and elementary treatises on moral
science, natural history, and the principles and
practice of the most important and useful arts.
In all the large schools, the boys and girls. are
kept separate. The girls, in addi'ion to reading,
writing, and arithmetic, are taught all sorts of
needlework, the knitting of stockings, the making
of clothes, &c.; receiving at the same time lessons
in the art of cookery, the management of children,
and other departments of domestic employment.
The supervision of the schools is intrusted, in
every parish or commune, to a committee, con-
sisting of a few of tiie principal inhabitants; the
clergy of the parish, whether Protestants or
Catholics, being always ex officio members of the
committee. This body is intrusted with the duty
of inspecting the school, and is bound to see
that the master performs his duly, and that the
children attend. No particular system of religion
is allowed to be taught in any of the schools of
Wirtemberg, and most of the other Germanic
States. The tuition of this important branch is
left entirely to the clergy and the parents of the
children, so that the sons and daughters of Catho-
lics, Lutherans, Calvinists, Quakers, &c., frequent
the schools, and live in the utmost harmony.

• See Pre.'iiclent Adams' Letters on Silesia, Qvarterlg
Journal of Education, and Gla^gOK Qcographv vol. iii.

1«

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

The greatest desiro prevails among the lower
classes thai their clnldreu should enjoy the advan-
tages of the excellent education proviiied for them ;
but the government, not trusting entirely to tiiis
feeling, iias enacted regulations, by which eoery
inillvidual is compelled to send Ids children to school
from the oye of six to fourteen years. The public
functionaries transmit regularly to government,
once every six months, a list of the children in
their respective districts, who huve attained their
sixth year; and they are bound to see that they
are sent to school. In the event of the parents
being unable to pay the school fees, a statement
to that effect is prepared by tlie parochial authori-
ties, and the fees are paid by the public.

In Baaaria, the beneficial consequences result-
hig from the establishment of a system of national
education, have been more apparent than in any
other European countiy. Half a century ago, the
Bavarians were the most ignorant, debauched, and
slovenly people, between the Gulf of Genoa and
tlic Baltic; but, during the last thirty years, no
people has ever made a more rapid advancement
than they have done, in the career of knowledge
and of civilization. The late and present kings
of Bavaria, have not only swept away myriads of
abuses, and established a representative system
of government, but they have laid the only sure
foundations of permanent and real improvement,
in the organization of an admirable system of
national education. A school has been established
in every parish, to which every one is obliged to
send his children, from the age of six to fourteen;
Lyceums, Colleges, and Universities have also
been instituted, for the use of those who are de-
sirous of prosecuting their studies; and every
facility is afforded for the acquisition of the best
instruction, at the lowest price. The following is
a summary view of the principal seminaries in
this country: — Three universities, seven lyceunis,
eighteen gymnasia, twenty-one colleges, thirty-
five preparatory schools, sixteen houses of educa-
tion, seven for higher branches, two boarding-
schools for girls, seven normal schools, one school
for foreigners, two schools of law, two veterinary
schools, two schools of midwifery, and two royal
schools. The public, or national schools, amount
to 5.394; the inspectors to 286; the teachers to
7114; and the pupils of all classes, to about
498,01)0; — and, since the population of Bavaria
is about four millions, it follows, that not less than
one-eighth of the entire population is at school,
which is a higher proportion than what attends
the schools in ricotland.

Mr. Loudon, the talented editor of the " Garden-
er's ^lagazine," who traveled over most parts of
Wirtemberg, Bavaria, and Baden, in 1828, bears
the most unqualified testimony to the excellence
and efBciency of the system of public instruction
adopted in these countries, and the beneficial ef-
fects which have resulted from its operation.
" From what I have seen," says he, "of Wirtem-
berg, I am inclined to regard it as one of the most
civilized countries in Europe. I am convinced
that the great object of government is more per-
fectly attained here, than even in Great Britain;
because, with an almost equal degree of individual
liberty, there are incomparably fewer crimes, as
v/ell as far less poverty and misery. Every indi-
vidual in Wirtemberg reads and thinks; and to
satisfy one's seK that this is the case, he has only
to enter into conversation with the first peasant
he meets; to observe the number and style of the
journals that arc everywhere circulated, and the
multitude of libraries in the towns and villages.
I did not meet with d single beggar in Wirtemberg,

and with only one or two in Bavaria and Baden
The dress of the inhabitants of Wirtemberg, ad
well as those of a great part of Bavaria an^J Baden,
ap|)eared to me to indicate a greater degree of
comfort, than I had ever observed in any other
country, with the exception, perhaps, of Sweden,
and the Lowlands of Scotland."

The above sketches were written two or three
years ago. Siape that time, M. Victor Cousin's
" Report of the State of Public Instruction," has
been published, and translated into English by
Mr.s. Austin. This report, whichTfills nearly .340
pages, contains a very full, but rather dry detail,
of the whole machinery of education in Prussia.
From this document jt apjjears, that, in lt331,
there were 22,612 schools, and 27,749 schoolmas-
ters and mistresses — that the total number of
children under fourteen years of age was 4,767,
072; the number between seven and fourteen
years, 2,043,030, out of which, the number of
children attending school was 2,021,421, or nearly
a sixth part of the whole population, which is es-
timated at about twelve and a half millions. It
does not appear, from this report, that infant
schools are established in Prussia, or any institu-
tion for the instruction of young persolis from the
age of fourteen to twenty, or upward; nor can
we learn, from anything stated in it, that an iidel-
lectual principle is uniformaly acted upon in the
details of education. The system pi*esents too
much of a military spirit and character, through-
out all its departments, corresponding to 'the na-
ture of a despotic government; and it would re-
quire a very considerable modification, before it
could, with propriety, be adopted in a republic or a
limited monarchy. Many deficiencies in the sys-
tem likewise require to be supplied. Yet, not-
withstanding all its defects, it has already produc-
ed a benign influence on the knowledge and moral
conduct of the inhabitants of thatcountry; and, in
a short time, if Britain does not immediately be-
stir herself in the cause of education, the Prussian
population will be among the most enlightened in-
habitants of Europe.

France. — Notwithstanding the numerous sci-
entific characters which have appeared in this
country, and the discoveries and improvements
they have made in the physical and mathematical
sciences — the provision for public instruction,
particularly in the southern departments, is very
defective. The Revolution of 1789 annihilated al-
most every existing institution, and those for pub-
lic instruction among the rest. For a period of
nearly five years, a whole nation of thirty millions
of people remained without any regular educa-
tion. It was, indeed, enacted hy a law of the 13th
September, 1791, "That a system of public in-
struction should be organized; that the public
schools should be open to every one; and that no
fees should be charged for the elementary bran-
ches. But, amidst the commotions and demora-
lizing scenes of that period, this law, like many
others, was never carried into effect; and, at this
moment, France, with the exception of Spain and
Portugal, is worse provided with the means of ele-
mentary instruction, than any other countryes in
Europe. In the " Bulletin des Sciences Gcofiraphi-
ques," vol. xiv, for 1828, it is stated, that "in Franco,
the number ofchildren of an age to frequent prima-
ry schools is nearly 6,000,000. Of this number
scarcely a million and a half receive instruction."
Thus, without adverting to the circumstance of
ten millions of adults who can neither read no
write, according to a recent calculation — there art"
four millions and a half of young Frenchmen, who
do not receive even the first rudirpents of eauca-

EDUCATION IN RUSSIA, ETC.

17

tion. The children at school, in the thirty-two de-
partments of the north, are reckoned at 740,b'46;
and in tlie fiftj'-four departments of tiie soutii,
only 375,9.'il, which is little more than one-thirtieth
of the population. In Paris there are to he distin-
guished two populations, — the population already
enlightened, whicli comprehends, at most, about
lOOjUOO, souls; and the populiilion which still re-
mains to be enlightened, which amounts to near-
ly 81)0,000. Societies and individuals at Paris and
other populous towns, e.verted tlieniselves to sup-
ply so great a want; but tiieir efforts being open-
ly o]»posed by the clergy, and secretly by the late
government, were not so successful as they might
otherwise have been. Schools, upon the Lancus-
terian plan, were introduced by the government
at Paris, and other large towns; but the benefits
of the system were e.\tcnded only to professed
Catholics; — none but Catholic teachers were em-
ployed, and the Protestants were left to educate
their children the best way they could. In con-
sequence of this deficiency of instruction, igno-
rance and superstition, irreligion and immorality
prevail over a large portion of the kingdom, even
amidst the light of literature and science with
which they are surrounded; and a considerable
period must elapse before the mental darkness can
be dispelled, and the moral mischief it has produced
be completely eradicated. It is to be honed, now
that the influence of the Catholic priests has been
diminished, and liberal measures of policy in-
troduced, that a more extensive system of elemen-
tary instruction will be established; and we are
happy to understand that the attention of the Gov-
ernment of Louis Pliilip, has been directed to this
object, and that measures have been brought for-
ward in order to its accomplishment. In the year

mitted chiefly to monks, we maj' rest satisfied,
that, in general, its plans and objects are very lim-
ited and defective. Nor is the system much ira-
l>roved, when the student proceeds to the univer-
sity. He is there taught little else but the logic and
natural Philosophy of Aristotle, and the theology
of Thomas Aquinas. If a Spaniard, tiierefore,
attain to anything like true knowledge, he must
either leave his country in the search, or teach
himself in the best way his fancy may devise. —
'i'he same remarks, with a slight modification, will
apply to the neighboring kingdom of Portugal,
where Papal superstition and tyranny exist in all
their fullness and rigor. As the numerous swarms
of priests, monks, and friars, that infest this coun-
try, are almost universally ignorant, and not un-
frequently vicious, — as they are bigoted in the ex-
treme to the established religion and its childish cer-
emonials, and as the general diffusion of knowledge
would strike at the foundation of their ecclesiastical
system, — it cannot be supposed that they will show
much zeal cither in maki ng their scholars liberal and
intelligent, or in enlarging and improving the
general system of instruction. Several genera-
tions must elapse, and numerous and important
changes be effected, before we can expect that the
great body of the Spaniards and Portuguese can
become enlightened and moralized.

Russia. — It is only of late years that the atten-
tion of tlie Russian government has been directed
to the promotion of education throughout that
extensive empire; and several ages will be requi-
site, before its half-civilized inhabitants be raised
from the state of mental debasement in which
they have been so long immersed. During the
reign of the late emperor Alexander, Lancasterian
;chools and other seminaries were established in

1S31, M. V. Cousin was sent as a deputation to ] different parts of European Russia, and Bible so-
Prussia from the government of France to acquire ! cieties, for distributing the Scriptures among the
a knowledge of the details and regulations connect- 1 lower orders, were patronized by the Emperor,
ed with the Prussian system of education. Since i Prince Gallitzin, the archbishops, and other dis-
his return, numerous schools have been establish- 1 tinguished characters. It appears that in the be-
ed on the principles of the Prussian system, and ginning of 1S30, the emperor Nicholas gave his
there is now a prospect, that, in the course of a sanction to certain regulations, providing for the
few years, an efficient system of education will be establishment of primary schools in the several
established in that country. — According to the la- | villages appertaining to the crown. The object
test statistical accounts, the number of children j of these seminaries is to diffuse useful knowledge
who are learning to read, now amounts to 2,000, ! among the peasantry, and to furnish the villages
000: the number of primary elementary schools is ! with individuals who may actas writers. Gratuit-
35,007; of superior primary schools, 370; of pri- ous instruction is to be afforded in these schools to
vate schools, 9092; total, 44,269. The number of ; youths of not less than eight years of age, in the
boys attending these schools is, 1,175,248; and of i catechism, reading books and written documents,
girls, 731,773. The total expense of primary in- writing, and the first four operations of arithme-
struction is 10,162,706 francs, or about £42.3,446. ! tic. 'I'be lessons are to open after their return
Of this expense there is paid by the Communes, ; from labor, and to continue until it be resumed;
7,693,793 fr.; by the Departments, 2,063,072 fr.; , with the exception of Sundays and festivals, they
and by the State, 405,841 fr.; or about £16,910 — a j are to occupy four hours a-da)'. Permission is,
very paltry sum when compared with the magiii- I however, given to the teachftr to assemble his
tude and importance of the object. i pupils for the purpose of re])eating their lessons,

Spain. — " In tills country there, are few establish- I even while they are working in the fields: but
ments for the diffusion of the first rudiments of I tiiis cannot take place without tlie consent of the
knowledge." The lower classes seldom learn to villagers. The expenses of these schools are to
read or write; those above them are as seldom in- be defrayed out of the territorial income of the

Btructed in anything but those two accomplish'
ments, and the elements of arithmetic. Such as
are intended for the learned professions attend a
Latin school for three or four years; and since the
expulsion of the Jesuits, these schools are not nu-
merous. Some private establishments, for the in-
struction of the boys in Latin, were rising at the
time of the French invasion, and a desire of im-
provement in the method of teaching was showing
itself among the teachers."* When we consider
Uiat the education of youth in this country is cora-

* Qaaiterly Jonrual of Edacation, vol. i.

villages, and the first essays are intended to be
made in the governments of St. Petersburg and
Pscov.

Sinitzerland. — This country, remarkable for the
sublimity of its mountain scenery, the fertility
of its vales, and the beauty of its expansive lakes,
— is no less remarkable for the means of educa-
tion it possesses, and the consequent intelligence
and moral order of its inhabitants. In this re-
spect, it is scarcely inferior to the best educated
countries in Europe. The proportion of the in-
habitants undergoing tlio process of instruction is
greater than that of either France, England or

18

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

Scotland In the Pays de Vaud, this proportion
amounts to one-eighth of the population, wliich is
more than tlie average of tiie oilier countries of
Eurojie, wliere systems of instruction liave been
establislied ; so that tiie inhuluUnts of tiiis dis-
trict of Su'itzerhuui, liave generally been con-
sidered by travelers as the most intelligent
and tiie best educated among the European na-
tions.

The celebrated school of Peslulnzzi at Yverdun,
in the Pays de Vaud, lias been visited and cele-
brated by "every traveler. This was among the
first seminaries in which the intellectual system
was introduced, in which the rationale of every
subject taught is explained and illustrated, and the
intellectual faculties stimulated and brought into
exercise. It e^nbraces, also, tlie plan of mutual
instruction, as exemplihed in the schools of Bell
and Lancaster. The establishment of the School
of Industry of M. Fellcnberg at Hofwyl, in t!ie
Canton of Berne, has also been deservedly cele-

brated. Tlie object of this seminary is to com-
bine scholastic education with industrious ha-
bits, and a knowledge of the best manner of
performing niechanicar and agricultural opera-
tions. Although, at Hofwyl, tlie piiiicijdes and
practice of Agriculture arc the chief objects of at-
tention, yet the general principles of tlie institution
and the mode of instruction might, in towns, be
successfully applied to mechanical operations and
manufacturing processes of every description. It
has given a great impulse to education throughout
the country, and has produced some very eminent
scholars. Not only the lower classes, but pupila
of tlie highest rank conic to this seminary, from
Germany, France, England, and other parts of
Europe. In most of tlie cantons, education is a
matter of state, persons of the greatest respecta-
bility are engaged in the business of instruction,
and the arrangements of the system of tuition
are under the immediate direction and protection
of the government.

CHAPTER II.

STRICTURES ON THE MODE IN WHICH EDUCATION HAS GENERALLY BEEN

CONDUCTED.

There are few subjects which have so frequently
engaged the attention of the literary public as the
instruction of the young; and yet there is no
subject about which so many vague and errone-
ous notions generally prevail. No term in our
language has been more abused and misapplied
than that of education. By the great majority
of our countrymen it is considered as consistijig
merely in the acquisition of pronunciation, spel-
ling, and grammar — of writing, casting accounts,
and the knowledge of languages ; and these ac-
quisitions are considered of value chiefly as they
prepare the individual for engaging in certain
secular employments, and are instrumental in
procuring his subsistence. By others it has been
confined to the communication of the elements
of thought, and the improvement of the intellect;
and, by a comparatively small number, it has been
regarded chiefly as the formation of character,
and the cultivation of moral habits. But,,to nei-
ther of these objects is education to be exclusively
confined. It consists of a comprehensive and har-
monious combination of them all, including every
mean and every mode of improvement by which
intelligent beings may be trained to knowledge and
virtue — qualified for acting an honorable and re-
spectable part on the theater of this world, and
prepared for that immortal existence to which
they are destined. It is deeply to be regretted,
that, up to the present hour, with a very few ex-
ceptions— in an age deemed liberal and enlightened
—the system on which education has generally
been conducted is repugnant to the dictates of
reason, inefficient for enlightening and meliorating
the human mind, and is little short of an insult
offered to the understandings of the young. While
almost every initiatory book has for its motto,"
and every teacher can readily repeat the follow-
ing lines of Thomson, —

"Delightful ta=k! to rear the lender thonglit.
To teach the pining idea how to shout,
Al(1 pour the firesh iusUaction o'er the mind,"

the great objects which education ought to pro-
mote have been miserably neglected. A farrago
of words has been substituted in the place of
things; the elements of language have been pre-
ferred to the elements of thought; the key of
knowledge has been exhibited instead of know-
ledge itseii ; and the youthful mind, at the ter-
mination of the common process of instruction,
is almost as destitute of ideas as at its commence-
ment. At that period of life wheil'the minds of
the young are beginning to expand — when they
ardently thirst after novelty and variety' — when
they are alive to the beauties and sublimities of
nature, and listen with delight to the descriptions
of other countries, and the tales of other times —
instead of being gratified with the exhibition of
all that is interesting in the scenes of creation
and the history of man — they are set down in
a corner to plod over unknown characters and
strange sounds — no })leasing objects are exhibited
to inspire them with delight — their memories are
burdened, and even tortured, while their under-
standings are neglected; and, after many painful
efforts, intermingled with cries and tears, while
the detested lash is hanging over their heads, they
are enabled to repeat, like a number of puppets,
their medley of grammar rules, their psalms, their
hymns, their catechisms, and their speeciies from
the English and Roman classics, pouring out
their vords with a velocity like water bursting
from a s|)out, without a single correct idea con-
nected loith their exercises, "understanding neither
what they say, nor whereof they affirm." — Hence
it has too frequentl)' happened, that the school-
room has been viewed as a prison, their teachers
as a species of tyrants, and the scholastic exer-
cises in which they are engaged, as repugnant to
their natural vivacity, and subversive of their
youthful pleasures. Hence they have frequently
been driven to the village school, like sheep to the
slaughter, and like criminals to a jail, or carried
on the shoulders of their companions, amidst

DEFECTS IN RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.

19

cries, and lamentations, and forebodings of pun-
ishment.

In seminaries of a higher order than those to
which I now allude, five or s x years are gene-
rally spent in learning the declension of nouns,
the conjugation of verbs, and the rules of syntax,
and in acquiring a smattering of the Roman
classics; while, at the close o'' this tedious, and to
the pupil, recohinc) process, he retires from tlie
seminary to the shop, the counting-house, or the
university, nearly as ignorant of the common
phenomena of nature, of tlie sublime discoveries

those effects which are produced by the folly and
the injudicious sciiemes of men. — As it is painful
to e.<ercise the memory to any extent on words
unconnected with ideas, so it frequently happens,
that a disrelish for religion and its services is in-
duced, in consequence of the labor and drudgery
with which they are thus associated. In these-
seminaries, too, the duties of Christian morality
are too frequently thrown into the shade. Cliris-
tianily is not a mere theorj', but a practical sijslem;
for all its historical details, itt; doclrine.s and pre-
cepts, its promises and threateniiigs, have au ulti-

of modern times, of the principles of the arts and j mate reference to the regulation of the temper and

sciences, and the laws of moral action, as if he
had been born in Patagonia, or in the center of
New Holland. If he has acquired an) thing at all,
which may be denominated hnouiedye, it consists
chiefly in a jumble of notions about the squab-
bles of heathen gods and goddesses, detached
fragTnents of Roman history, the Metamorphoses
of Ovid, the fictions of Pagan mythology, and
the revengeful encounters of destroying armies
and ambitious despots. While his mind is fa-
miliar with the absurdities and impieties of ancient
superstition and idolatry, he not unfrequently
quits the scene of instruction as ignorant of the
cliaracter and attributes of the true God, of the
doctrines of the Christian religion, and of the
tempers which it inculcates, as if he had been
tutored in a Pagan land.

Even in those seminaries which are devoted to
the religious instruction of the young, the same
absurd and inefficient system to which I have al-
luded is too frequently acted upon. Instead of
exhibiting to the understandings of the young the
character and perfections of the Deity, and the
triiths of Christianity, by familiar and popular il-
lustrations deduced from the economy of nature and
the facts of revelation, a great proportion of their
Sabbath-school exercises consists in repeating,
with a disgusting flippancy and vociferation, their
catechisms, psalms, paraphrases, hj'mns. and scrip-
ture passages, assigned them as tasks, and in lis-
tening to the crude expositions of certain abstract
theological dogmas, to which they can attach no
precise or well-defined notions, and which do not
enter into the essence of the Christian system.
In certain schools of this description, I have wit-
nessed the attention of the children almost exclu-
sively directed to the mere repetition of the Shorter
Catechism, and other compends of divinity, and
that, too, in a most inaccurate, irreverent, and
vociferous manner, without a single attempt being
made to convey any idea to the understanding of
the nature of the truths repeated — while the cate-
chumens seemed to be much gratified and relieved
in having got their memories disburdened of the
ungracious tasks imposed upon them. In other
schools, where the teachers had acquired a smat-
tering of systematic theology — after the memo-
rial tasks were dispatched — I have listened to a
series of crude dissertations addressed to the young
respecting the covenant of works and of grace,
predestination, absolute and conditional decrees,
faith, the Trinity, and similar topics, together
with long-winded exhort.if ions, occasionally inter-
mingled with boisterous and unhallowed threats
and denunciations, because the young did not
yield a profound attention to such abstract spec-
ulations. Yet all this goes by the name of re-
bgioits instruction; and, when it is found to pro-
duce little influence on the moral conduct of the
?oung, the effect is attributed solely to the corrup-
tion of human nature, and to the withholding of
the influences of divine grace, — a sentiment which
goes far to attribute to the "Only Wise God"

affections, the direction of the conduct, anu to thd
general renovation of the moral powers of man,
in orJcT to his preparation for a higher state of
moral and intellectual excellence. And, therefore,
it ought to be one of the grand objects of religious
instruction to cultivate the moral powers, to tlirect
the temper and aflections, and to show, by fujnil-
iar illustrations taken from the scene's of active
life, how the principles of Christianity ought to
operate in all tlie diversified circumstances and re-
lations of society. — But, leaving this topic, in the
meantime, let us attend a little more particularly
to the range of instruction in our common initia-
tory schools.

After a knowledge of the characters of the al-
phabet and of the principal elementary sounds is
acquired, the scholar is led through a series of dry
and uninteresting lessons and spelling exercises in
which his memory and his faculty of pronuncia-
tion are solely exercised. The New Testament
is next put into his hand, and, after reading a por-
tion of it with great diliiculty and awkwardness,
and before he is capable of reading one sentence
with ease and accuracy, he is introduced to such
books as " Banie's Collection, " and " Tyro's
Guide," and "Scott's Beauties of Eminent Wri-
ters," in which there is scarcely one selection in-
teresting to a youthful mind, or level to its com-
prehension. But this circumstance seems to be
considered by many as a matter of no importance ;
for it is seldom or never that au attempt is made
to convey to the minds of youth the ideas contain-
ed in (he lessons they read and commit to memo-
rj'. During these reading exercises, the Shorter
Catechism is put into their humis, in order that its
vocables may be committed to memory; and that,
too, at so early a period, tiiat they find the great-
est difficulty in mastering the pronunciation of the
long and technical terms with which it abounds.
Through this ungracious task they struggle with
the greates! reluctance, and generally, too, with-
out annexing a single idea to any of the answers
they repeat. They are soon after, perhaps before
they are seven years of age, introduced to the study
of English grammar; and, after feeling much apa-
thy and not a little disgust at this abstract science,
and experiencing many days and hours of ungrate-
ful labor, they are able to repeat a few of its rules,
definitions, and declensions. Like so many par-
rots, they can tell us by rote, what is a verb, an
adverb, or a preposition, or that " conjunctioM
which imply contingency require the subjunctive
mood," without understanding what they say, or
annexing a clear idea to any of the rules or defini-
tions they repeat. By turning over Scott's or Ful-
ton's Dictionary, they learn that virtue is a nourif
because n is annexed to it — that, to write is a verb,
because o is annexed to it — and that_/ront is apre-
position, because pre is annexed to it; but, beyond
such reasons they seldom attempt to aspire; and
after two or three years' training in such exerci-
ses, they know little more of the subject, or of th«
application of its rules to composition, than whea

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

20

they first commenced. The principal acquisition
made, is a facility in finding out words in a dic-
tionary, wilhont any attention being paid to their
meaning — an object which may easily be accom-
plished in a few days. The useful art of uritin<^ is
next attempted to be taught; and, in most instan-
ces, a far greater degree of importance is attached
to the acquirement of an "elegant text," or a "fine
running hand," than to the cultivation of the mor-
al and intellectual powers, and the acquisition of
substantial knowle<ige. — Arithm-tic follows in the
rear, and the scholar, after hurrying through its
four fundamental rules, without any sensible illu.^-
trations of the different operations, is exercised in
calculations respecting Tare and Tret, Intcrestand
Annuities, the Square and Cube Root, Exchange,
Discount and Equation of Payments, before he has
the least knowledge of the nature of these transac-
tions; and, consequently, like one walking in the
dark, is unable to perceive the drift and tendency
of most of his operations, or tlie foundation of the
rules by which he .calculates; and hence it hap-
pens tliat, when he actually engages in the busi-
ness of real life, he has almost the whole of his
arithmetical processes to study over again, and to
re-investigate the foundations, objects, and princi-
ples of his operations, in tlieir opplicatious to the
transactions in which he is engaged.

In fine, during the whole of the process now
described, the moral powers of the young are in a
great measure overlooked, and the business of
moral tuition shamefully neglected. To improve
their tempers and alTections, and to bend them into
that direction which will tend to promote their own
happiness and that of others, is considered as a
matter of inferior moment, in which teachers are
very little, if at all, interested. It forms, at least,
no prominent object, in our schools, to meliorate
the tempers of the j'ouug, to counteract the prin-
ciples of malice, envy, and revenge — to inspire
them with kindness and benevolence — and to train
them to moral excellence. On the contrary, the
mode in which they are treated has frequently a
tendency to produce obstinacy, dissimulation, super-
stition, pride, hatred, and disaffection. The spirit of
unchristian emulation, contention, and revenge is
indirectly fostered by the books tliey read, the dis-
cipline by which they are trained, the amusements
in which they indulge, the false maxims and pa-
gan sentiments which are interwoven through the
whole course of their education, and by the admi-
ration which is attempted to be excited in their
breasts for barbarous heroes and the butchers of
mankind. The active powers of the young being
thus allowed to take the natural bent of their de-
praved inclinations, selfishness, pride, malice, and
other malignant passions, are allowed to spring up
and llourish, without feeling the force of those
salutary checks which might impede their pro-
gress, or destroy them in the bud; and thus per-
verse habits and dispositions are induced, which
"grow with their growth, and strengthen with
their strength," until at length they display them-
selves with diabolical energy' in the scenes of do-
mestic life, and on the theater of the political
world, amidst the contentions of cgmmunities and
"the tumults of the people."

Such is the amount of the education which the
great mass of our population receive prior to their
entrance on the scene of active life. To affirm
that it is attended by no beneficial effiicts, would
be to fly in the face of all observation and experi-
ence. It prepares the mind, in some measure, for
certain avor.atious in civil society, and for the
reception of knowledge in afterlife, should it ever
ke exhibited in a more judicious and intelligent

manner; and, in some instances, when combined
with judicious domestic instruction, it will assist
and direct the pupil, in the pursuit of knowledge
and of mental enjoyments. But, considered by
itself, as a system of culture for rational and im-
mortal beings, in order to the development of
tlieir moral and intellectual powers, and as a pre-
])aratioii for a higher state of existence, it is mise'
ruhlij deficient, both in the means which are em-
ployed, in the range of instruction, and in the
objects which it is calculated to accomplish. — To
illustrate this position is the object of the follow-
ing remarks. y

I. In the first place, one glaring defect which
runs through the whole system of initiatory in-
struction (except in very rare instances) is tliai
no attempt is made to convey ideas to the youthful
mind, along with the elementary sounds of language
and the art of pronunciation. Provided children
can mouth the words, and vociferate with alacrity
the different sentences contained in their lessons,
it appears to be a matter of little importance in
the eyes either of teachers or of parents, whether
or not they appreciate the meaning of any one
portion of the sentiments they read. Although
the great object of education is " to teach the
young idea how to shoot," it is almost the only
object which is thrown into the shade; and those
scholastic exercises which are only the means of
education, are almost exclusively attended to as
if they were the end. The young are thus treated
as if they were only so many puppets, placed on
a stage to exhibit a series of mechanical move-
ments, and as if they were not possessed of the
smallest portion of intellect, and were entirely
destitute of affections and passions. Yet, it is un-
deniable, from fact, that children, at a very early
age, are capable of receiving a variety of ideas into
their minds, and of exercising their reasoning pow-
ers respecting them. JPresent an engraved land-
scape to a boy of four or five years of age, especial-
ly as exhibited through the Optical Diagonal Ma-
chine, where he will see every object in its true
perspective as itjappears in nature — lie will at
once recognize and describe, in his own way, the
houses, the streets, the men, the women, the roads
and carriages, and the land and water of which it
is composed, and express his opinion respecting
them. Present well-executed engravings of a
horse, a cow, a lion, an elephant, or a monkey,
and he will soon learn to distinguish the one
from the other, and will feel delighted with every
new exhibition that is made to him of the objects
of nature or of art. And, therefore, if sensible
objects, level to his capacitj"^, and range of
thought, and with which he is in some measure
acquainted, were uniformly exhibited in his first
excursions in the path of learning, his progress
in knowledge would nearly correspond to his ad-
vancement in the art of spelling and pronuncia-
tion. Tiie absurdity of neglecting the cultivation
of the understanding, in the dawn of life, and
during the progress of scholastic instruction,
however common it may be, is so obvious and
glaring, that it scarcely requires a process of rea-
soning to show its irrationality, if we admit that
the acquisition of knowledge ought to be one of
the great ends of education. What important
purpose can be gained by a number of boys and
girls spending a series of years, in pronouncing,
like so many parrots, a number of articulate
sounds, to which they annex no corresponding
ideas or impressions, and which cost them so
much pain and anxiety to acquire? What is the
use of the art of reading, if it be not made the
medium by v^hich knowledge and moral improve-

DEFICIENCY OF INTELLECTUAL INSTRUCTION.

21

ment maybe communicated? And, if we neglect
to teuch youth to apply this mean to its proper
cud, while they are under regular tuition, how
can we reasonably expect, that they will after-
ward apply it, of their own accord, when a suf-
ficient sQinulus is wanting? By neglecting to
connect the acquisition of useful information with
tJie business of elementary instruction, we place
the young nearly in the same predicament as we
oupioU'es should be placed, were we obliged from
day to day, to read and repeat long passages from
the writings of Confucius, the Alcoran of Ma-
homet, or llic Shasters of Bnimah, in the Chinese,
the Turkish and the Hindoo languages, while we
understood not the meaning of a single teim.
And how p.inful and disgusting should we feel
such a revolting exercise I — The consequence of
this absurd practice is, that, instead of exciting
desires for further acquisitions in learning, — in a
majority of instances, we produce a disgust to
every species of mental exertion and improve-
ment; instruction becomes unpleasant and iik-
eome, both to the teacher and the scholar; the
cliild leaves school without having acquired any
real knowledge, and destitute of any relish for it,
and seldom afterward makes any use of the in-
structions he received for the further cultivation
of his mind in wisdom and virtue. Ta this ciiuse,
perhaps, more than to any other, is to be attributed
the deplorable ignorance which still pervades the
mass of our population, notwithstanding the for-
mal process of instruction they undergo, — and
the little relish they feel for devoting their leisure
hours to the improvement of their minds, and to
those pursuits which are congenial to rational and
immortal natures.

II. Another defect which pervades the whole
system of scholastic instruction in our country,
and of which the former is a native consequence,
is, that there, is scarcely one of our elementary books
adapted to the capacities of youth, and calculated to
excite their attention and affections, by its interesting
and instructive details.

Not to mention the dry and uninteresting lists
and details contained in most of our spdiMig-
books, and the vague and somber moral insti-uc-
tlons they exhibit — let us fix our attention, for a
moment, on the general train of subjects con-
tained in " Barrie's Collection," and '• Tyro's
Guide," and iu "Scott's Beauties of eminent
writers," — the books most commonly used in the
parochial and other schools in this country, — and
we shall soon perceive that they are everything
but caicuUited for the purpose intended. These
works (which, like some others of the same fry,
seem to have been constructed by means of the
scissors) cluefly contain extracts illustrative of the
beauties of sentiment and composition: — Speeches
on political subjects formerly delivered in the Ro-
man, Grecian, and British Senates — characters of
Pope, Drydeu, Milton, or Shakespeare — descrip-
tions of the battles of Poictiers, Hastings, Agin-
court, and Bannockburn — abstract eulogiums on
virtue, oratory, and the art of criticism — prosing
dissertations on the cultivation of taste — on hap-
piness, retirement, and meditation — Speeches and
Ei)ilogues of stage-players, political disquisitions,
foolish tales, parables and allegories — i''alstaft"s
encomiums on sack — Hamlet's advice to players —
Epilogue of (iarrick for the benefit of decayed ac-
tors— tiie Drunken Knight and his brawling lady
appeased — Speeches of Qui net ins Capitoliuus, of
Romulus to his citizens, of Hannibal to Scipio,
and of Galgacus to his army — East India Com-
pany's ad ress on tlie junction of Spain and
France— Mr Walpole and Mr. Pitt's Parliamen-

tary debates — Extracts from the Potms of Aken.
side, Thompson, Miitou and Young — Speech of
Sin to Satan — Speech of Satan in his infernal
palace of Pandemonium — Moloch's sjicech to
Satan — Belial's Speech in reply — Satan's so-
liloquy— the combat of the Horatii and the Curiatii
— Captain Bobadil's method of defeating an army
— Clarence's dream — Norval and Glenalvon's re-
vengeful encounter — Lord and Ludy Randolph,
Sir Charles and Lady Racket— Seiiipronius' speech
for war — Description of Queen Mab — Ossian's
address to the sun — Soliloquy of Dick the Apothe-
cary's apprentice — Alexander's feast — JBlair's
Grave — Young's Life, Death, and Immortality —
Queen of the Fairies — tlse Wolf and the Crane —
the Town Mouse and the Country Mouse — the
Tailor and the Conjurer — the Old Man and his
Ass — with a multifarious medley of pieces of a
similar description.

These comprehend a fair specimen of the i)romi-
nent subjects selected, in our common school-
books, /or the purpose of training the youthful mind
in knowledge and virtue. I have no hesitation in
asserting, that more unsuitable subjects, consistent
with common decency, could scarcely have been
selected, and that they are little short of a direct
insult offered to the youthful understanding. The
compilers of such collections, either suppose, that
the juvenile mind, at the age of eight or nine
years, when such selections are put into their
hands, has embraced a range of thought and con-
templation far beyond what it is capable of in or-
dinary cases, or they wish to insult their imbecile
minds, by offering them stones instead of bread,
or they rake together their extracts at random,
without considering whether they are at all suited
to the class of persons to whom they are addressed.
For there is not one lesson out of twenty which
is level to the range of thought, and to the ca-
pacity of tlie youthful mind, in its first outset in
the path of science, even although parents and
teachers were to attempt an explanation of the
passages which are read; as thej' embody descrip-
tions and allusions respecting objects, events, and
circumstances, which cannot be duly appreciated
without a ])revious course of study; and they
abound with a multitude of abstract speculations
which can never convey well-defined ideas to the
understandings of the young. What ideas can a
boy of seven or eight years old form of the Par-
liamentary debates of Mr. Pulteuey, Mr. Pitt, or
Sir Robert Walpole; of the speech of Marcus
Valerius on a dispute between the Patricians
and the Plebeians concerning the form of govern-
ment; of dissertations on the art of criticism; of
Belial's speech to Moloch; or even of Blair's
Grave, or Young's Life, Death, and Immortality;
— or what interest can he be supposed to feel in
such themes and di.scussions? 1 appeal to every
one of my readers, if, at the age now specified,
they ever understood .such selections, or filt grati-
fied and improved by perusing them. It is an
absurdity, at once perceptible, that the beauties
of sentiment and composition wliieh are apprecia-
ted and relished by persons of refined Uiste, at the
age of twenty or thirty, will be equally relished
and admired by children of eight or ten years of
aire; aiid yet, from an examination of our initia-
tory school-books, it is undeniable, that on a false
principle of this kind, almost all our elementary
works have been constructed.

But, it is farther to be regretted, that this is not
the only fault that can be charged upon these
productions. They exhibit scenes and ^entiments
which ought not to be familiarized to the minds
of children, and which are repugnant to the spirit

22

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

and practice of genuine Christianity. In almost
every p^ije, l)olii of tlie pros;»ic and poetic extracts,
tlie war qonq is ever and anon resounding in our
ears, and " the confused noise of tiie warrior, with
garments rolled in blood." Tlie Ca?sars, the Al-
exanders, and the Buonapartes, of ancient and
modern times, instead of being held up to execra-
tion as the ravagers and destroyers of mankind,
are set forth to vievy as glorious conquerors and
illustrious heroes, whose characters and exploits
demand our admiration and applause. And if, at
any time, the minds of the young imbibe the sen-
tinii'iits which pervade tlieir lessons, it is generally
when they breathe a warlike sptril, and exhibit those
desolalionsand ravageswhichambitionand revenge
have produced in the world, — and when they them-
selves are trained to spout at an examination, and,
arrayed in warlike habiliments, with guns, or spears,
or darts, to ape the revengeful exploits of a Nerval
and a Glenalvon. I have beheld the young, when
engaged in such exhibitions, eulogized and ap-
plauded by their examinators, and surrounding
spectators, more than on account of all the other
scholastic improvements they had acquired. To
this cause, doubtless, as well as to others, is to be
attributed the spirit of warfare and contention
which still reigns on the theater of the political
world, and which has desolated, and disgraced,
and demoralized, every nation under heaven. I
have known a teacher who has turned over page
after page, in some of the works now referred to,
in searcli of a passage worthy of being committed
to memory by his pupils, and who could not in
conscience fix upon any one, in a long series of
extracts, on account of its being imbued with this
anti-diristian spirit. In addition to this striking
characteristic of our school-collections, and in
perfect accordance with it — it may also be stated,
that Pride, Ambition, Revenge, aiid other Pagan
virtues, are sometimes held up to view as the
characteristics of a noble and heroic mind; and
swearing, lying, brawling, and deceit, are fre-
quently exhibited in so ludicrous a manner, as
almost to win the affections, and to excite ap-
probation.

But, in fine, although the selections to which I
allude were level to the comprehensions of the
young, and untinged with anti-chrislian senti-
ments— what is the amount of all the knowledge
and instruction they contain? They embrace no
perspicuous system of interesting and useful in-
formation,— scarcely anything that bears on the
cultivation of Christian dispositions, — no exhibi-
tions of the scenes of Nature and Art in which
the young may afterward be placed, — little in-
formation respecting the works of God, the reve-
lations of his word, or the v\seful inventions of
men. The beauties which adorn the scenery of
nature, the wonders of Creating Power, as dis-
played in the earth, the air, the ocean, and the
heavens ; the displays of Divine Wisdom and
Goodness, which everywhere surrounds us ; the
mild and pacific virtues of Christianity, which
ought equally to adorn the prince and the peasant;
the avocations and amusements of domestic life;
the scenery of the country, the city, and the vil-
lage, or the important facts contained in the Sa-
cred history, — are seldom or never detailed, with
int'^resting simplicity, in this class of publications.
And, are a few extracts from old plays and novels,
romances and fnblcs, Pa^an mythology and Par-
liamentary debates — from the speeches of Roman
orators and the epilogues of stage-players, to be
considered as the most agreeable and substantial
food foi* the youthful intellect, and as the most
judicious process for imbuing it with useful know-

ledge, and preparing it for the employments of
an inmiortal existence? Are the absurd opinions
of Roman and Grecian poets and warriors, re-
specting their gods, their heroes, and their religion,
and the polluted streams of heathen morality, to
be substituted in the room of the simple and sub-
lime delineations of revelation, the pure principles
of the gospel, and the noble discoveries of mo-
dern science? If so, — then let us not boast of
imparting to our children a rational and a ChriS'
tian education.

I have alluded more particularly to the works
above-mentioned, because they are most frequently
used in our borough and parochial schools; but I
know no works of this kind, published in this
country, with the exception of two or three vol-
umes, to which the above strictures will not, in a
greater or less degree, apply. I do not, however,
condemn such books, in so far as they contain
sentimental extracts, for the use of advanced
students of elocution, — or considered as miscel-
lanies for the amusement of persons advanced in
life (though even in this last point of view they
cannot be held in high estimation), — my main
objection rests on the ground of their being unfit-
ted to interest the minds of the young, and to
convey to them the outlines of knowledge and
virtue, unnn#ng!ed with the rubbish of folse max-
ims and anti-christian sentiments.*

III. Another error which runs through our
scholastic instruction is, that, while the cultiva-
tion of the judgment is neglected, the menwry is
injudiciously, and often too severely exercised. The
efforts of memory, in most cases, especiall)^ when
exercised in the retention of mere sounds and
terms, are generally attended with painful sensa-
tions; and, when these sensations are long con-
tinuedj they frequently produce a disgust at the
objects and employments of education. Long
passages from Homer, Shakespeare, Milton, or
Pope, are given out for recitation to the young,
while they are still incapable of appreciating thie

* The above remarks were written in the year 1821, and
published in the "Christian Instructor " Since that period
several school-books have appeared, compiled on more ra-
tional and Christian prini-iples than most of their jiredecea-
sors, — particularly, M'Culloch's "Course of Elementary
Readin;; in Science and Literature," " The National School
Collection," "The American Reader," by JVIerriam, and
several others; but they are chietly adapted for the higher
classes in schools; and for young people who have nearly
finished their course of instruction in reading, and they have
been introduced info comparatively few of our schools, and
in many parts of the country are altogether unknown. Sev-
eral useful compilations have likewise of late been pnb'
lished in England and America, but they are more adapte(<,
to the use of families and domestic instrnction than to public
seminaries. I am acquainted with no book fot the Juvenile
classes, comprising useful information, and compiled in stich
a manner as to render knowledge and morality [lerspicuons,
fascinating, and interesting to the young, and calculated to
give full scope to their rational and active powers. About
a year after the publication of these remarks in the "Chris-
tian Instructor," its Editor, the late Rev. Ur. A. Thomson,
compiled a school collection, and sent me a copy of it, for
my inspection. My opinion of this compilation having been
requested, at the next personal interview I had with the
Doctor, I told him that I considered the hook free of any
anti-christian sentiments, calculated to make a good impres.
sion on the minds of the young, and that it contained a con
siderable number of instructive and entertaining selections
but that a number of the selections, however goon in them-
selves, were too didactic and somber to engage tlie atten-
tion of the juvenile mind. The Doctor admitted the justic*
of the last remark, and said, that, in another edition, he it-
tended to throw out the pieces alluded to, and siib-titute, la
their place, more entertaining selections. Dr. Tbomsor.'*
collection is, on the whole, a good one; but, like the others
mentioned above, is chiefly adapted to the higher classes.
The plan of all the school collections hitherto published il
susceptible of much improvement; and I shall afterward
take an opportunity of adverting to this subject in a sab**-
quent part of this volume.

JUDICIOUS EXERCISE OF THE MEMORY.

23

meaning of a single sentiment in tiie tusk pre-
scribed; and tlie facility vitii which tiiey can
recollect and vocilbrate a nnmber of jingling
Bounds is considered by many as the best evidence
of their progress in the patlis of instruction. The
period has not long gone by ( if it have yet
passed) when tiie repetition of the first chapter
(»f the lirst hook of Chronicles, of the tenth chap-
ter of Nehemiah, of the luuidred-and-nineteenth
Psalm, or of half a dozen chapters in tlio New
Testament, by a school-boy, — with a disgusting
vociferation, and a uniform velocity, like water
dashing over a precipice, was regarded, both by
parents and teachers, as an evidence of extraordi-
nary genius and as an achievement in education
of far greater importance than if he had drawn
an outline- of universal history, or sketched the
geography of the globe, — Of all the exercises of
memory to which the young tyro is accustomed,
there is none more injudicious and more painful to
the pupil, than that by which he is constrained to
get by rote the Shorter Catechism, at the early
age at which it is generally prescribed. At the
nge of five or six, before he is capable of under-
Btanding a single sentiment of the system of Di-
vinity, and even before he can read with ease any
one of its questions and answers — he is set to the
ungracious task of committing its vocables to me-
mory, as if he were a mere machine, formed solely
for mechanical movements and the emission of
sounds. The reluctance with which this task is
generally engaged in; the painful sensations which
accompany it; the correction which follows its
neglect; the ludicrous blundering; and the complete
destitution of ideas with which it is generally at-
tended— all conspire to show the absurdity of the
practice. I am fully persuaded, that the unplea-
sant associations connected with this task, have, in
many instances, produced a lasting disgust, both at
the pursuits of learning, and the instructions of re-
ligion. Yet, there are few school-exercises to
which parents in general attach a greater degree
of importance. To omit the teaching of this
catechism by rote, even although other and more
perspicuous instructions were given on divine
Bubjecls, would be considered as arguing a cer-
tain degree of irrelii/ion on the part of the teacher;
end even respectable clergymen and others con-
sider this exercise as a sine qua non in religious
instruction — just as if the mere terms and defini-
tions of this excellent s\immary were to produce
a magical effect on the moral and intellectual
faculties The common argument in favor of
tliis practice, " that it is laying in a store of reli-
gious vocables for after reflection, and that the
answers will be perfectly understood in riper
years," — when considered in connection with
what has been now said, is extremely futile and
inconclusive. The blundering manner in which
persons advanced in life frequently repeat this
cateciiism — mistaking, for example, the answer
to "What is Justification?" for tiiat which re-
lates to "sanctification,"orwhat i-i forbidden for
what is required in any of the commandments,
and without being at all conscious of their error
— plainly indicate?, that correct ideas are seldom
attached to whatever has been learned by mere
rote, and that the rational faculty is seldom ex-
erted in such exercises. In short, I have little
hesitation in laying it down as a maxim that will
geneially hold true, that "whenever the words of
a proposition are committed to memory without
being understood, their meaning will afterward
be seldom inquired after or perceived." I am con-
vinced, that a careful perusal of this catechism,
or any other similar system, accompanied with

proper explanations, at the age of fourteen, or six-
teen,will convey more real information than can be
acquired by all thepaii. Jul labor and drudgery en-
dured by committing it to memory at the usual
age at which it is prescribed.

Let it not, however, be imagined, that 1 wish
to throw the least reflection on the Shorter Cate-
ciiism, as a summary of Christian doctrine and
duty. On the contrary — without admitting every
sentiment it contains as perfectly correct, or ne-
cessary to be embodied in such a synopsis of theo-
logy— I consider it on the whole, as one of the
most comprehensive conipends of divinity ever
pubiisiied — which, with a few retrenchments and
modifications, might form a basis of union to al-
most all the religious bodies in this country. But
tiie very thing in which its chief excellence con-
sists, constitutes an argument against its being
used as a first catechism. It is so comprehcusivey
that almost every word includes an important
meaning, and has an allusion to those profound
views of the Christian system, and to those con-
troverted ])oints in divinity, which are chiefly
recognized by professed divines. It is not by
endeavoring to convey general and abstract views
of Christian doctrine, or by cramming the me-
mories of young persons with a multiplicity of
theological terms and doctrinal opinions, that in-
structions in religion will be successful in arrest-
ing their attention, and impressing their minds;
but by particular explications, and familiar illus-
trations borrowed from sensible objects, of a few
of the most prominent truths of the Christian
system, that impressive and well-defined ideas
will bo communicated to the youthful mind. And
perhaps too little care is exercised in communicat-
ing, in a vivid and impressive manner, the funda-
mental truths of natural relic/ion, which form the
groundwork of the different parts of the Chris-
tian superstructure. I conceive, that it is time
enough to conimence the regular study of the
Shorter Catechism, at the age of twelve or thir-
teen, when its answers should be minutely ana-
lyzed, and lis terms, doctrines, and moral injunc-
tions, familiarly explained and elucidated by
instructors, who have accurate and enlarged
views of the truths it conveys; and, when em-
ployed in this way, it will be found a useful
synopsis of Christian faith and practice. Prior
to the period to wiiich I now refer, some of
Dr. Watts' first catechisms might be used; or,
perhaps, it might be possible to construct a cate-
chism more simple and interesting, and contain-
ing more striking illustrations of natural and
revealed religion, than any that have yet appeared;
or, perhaps, without adopting the form of a cate-
chism, we might directly refer to the positive
declarations of Scripture, in reference to its facts,
doctrines, and i)recepts, accompanying the pas-
sages we extract with short comments and fami-
Ifar elucidations. The truths contained in such
catechisms might be learned with ease, and even
with pleasure, by the young, if they were ac-
compani'^d with a few hints from the parent or
teacher, to elucidate the facts and doctrines exhib-
ited to their view ; and especially, were they '
compiled on such a plan, as to give occasional ex-
ercise to the curiosity and the judgment in find-
ing out the proper answers.

In throwing out such remarks as the above, I
am aware that T am treading on delicate ground
But far more convincing arguments than any I
have yet heard must be brought forward, before
lean see reason to altej: the opinion now stated.
If it be once admitted, that the communication
of icfeas ought to form the great object of all in-

24

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

struction — that the youngs, at an early age, are ca-
pable of boiiig the recii)ieiits of knowledge — and
that education should bo rendered as pleasant and
agreeable as the nature,of the exercise will admit
— I will not fear to face any argument that may
be presented on this subject. I am far from wish-
ing to insinuate, that the memory ought not to
be exercised in the process of education; for it is
one of the powers or instruments conferred on us,
forthe purpose of making intellectual acquisitions;
but 1 contend, that its exertions, in the first in-
etance, ought to bo gentle, easy, and rational, and
employed chiefiy in relation to those objects about
which the young are rii|>uble of forming some dis-
tinct and agreeable conceptions, and not merely
on sounds and terms, and abstract propositions, to
which no precise meaning is attached.

IV. In our schools and seminaries, as presently
conducted, c/rammar is attempted to be taught at too
early an ai^e. Grammar is an abstract branch of
the philosophy of mind; and, therefore, to enter
with intelligence and interest into its spirit, the
foundation of its rules and their application — re-
quires some degree of knowledge, observation,
and maturity of judgment, not generally possessed
by juvenile minds; and, consequently, to attempt
to teach it to infants, in a systematic form, seems
almost as preposterous as it would be to instruct
them in the Newtonian philosopliy, or in the
Hutchinsonian system of metaphysics. The little
urchin of six or seven years of age, may, indeed,
be taught to repeat the definitions of all the parts
of speech, and of all the moods and tenses of verbs
— the inflections of nouns and verbs, and even the
whole of the rules of syntax; but such exercises
are always accompanied with a certain degree of
labor and disgust, which tend to sour the mind in
its progress through such scholastic instruction.
And after all the mental anxiety and toil endured
in such mechanical exercises, they acquire not,
perhaps, a single correct idea on the subject,espe-
cially in the abstract and superficial manner in
which it is taught in our common schools, and are
unable to appreciate any one useful purpose to
which such exercises are subservient. To distin-
guish a noun, or the quality of a noun, or the na-
ture of a verb, and to correct a simple sentence in
which a verb disagrees with its nominative, are ex-
ercises which children may be taught at an early
period, by familiar examples, and which might be
rendered both amusing and instructive, without
the formality of technical terms, complex rules, or
abstract systems; but to proceed much farther
than such easy exercises, before the intellectual
powers are somewhat matured, appears to be wast-
ing time and money, and mental anxiety, to no
purpose. Even the elements, or the more popu-
lar parts of natural history, geography, astronomy
and'experimental philosophy, could be taught with
much better eflfect, at such an early period, than
the abstract study of verbs and adverbs, conjunc-
tions and declensions, and metaphysical rules, the
foundation of which no child can comprehend; be-
cause, in those departments of knowledge, sen-
sible objects and pictorial representations can be
presented to the view of thejuvenile mind as elu-
cidations of the facts and principles inculcated.

That the opinions now stated may not appear
altogether singular, I shall quote a sentence or two
from the writings of the learned Mr. Smellie — the
well-known translator of "BufFon's Natural His-
tory." In his work on "The Philosophy of Nat-
ural History," vol. ii, p. 453, he remarks — "Prema-
ture studies are uniformly painful, because young
minds are incapable of comprehending the princi-
ples, and far less the application of them to arts or

sciences. Grammar, the first science ibtruded
upon, 1 may say, infantine intellects, is one of
the most abstract and intricate 'lo attain even
a tolerable knowledge of grammar, whatever bo
the language (for the general principles are, and
must be, the same), presupposes a considerable
range of intuitive facts, as well as of acquir-
ed ideas." Again, speaking of the absurdity of
"journeymen shoemakers, tailors, weavers, ba-
kers, carpenters," &c., sending their children
for years to Latin and Grammar schools, he re-
marks— "During the hours of recess from scho-
lastic discipline, nature resumes her empire, and,
by her irresistible power, obliges the children to
frisk and romp about, and to enjoy those various
and pure pleasures which result from activity and
amusement. But these enjoyments are no soon-
er over, than the abhorred ideas of unnatural con-
finement, and of a constrained attention to jargon^
which to them is completely unintelligible, instant-
ly recur, and harass, and terrify their imaginations.
The fruitless and painful labors which such pre-
posterous conduct in managing the early educa-
tion of youth produces, are immense, and truly
ridiculous." P. 448.

V. In regard to the art of rmiting, which is
chiefly a mechanical exercise, the quality of
which depends somewhat on the taste of the pu-
pil— a great degree of fastidiousness exists, and 6jf
far too much importance is attached to the acquisition
of an "elegant hand." To so disgusting a degree
has this predilection been carried, on certain oc-
casions, that all the qualities of a good teacher
have been considered as concentrated in this ono
acquirement; and persons have been selected tO
superintend the instruction of youth, who were
destitute of almost every other qualificaticn,
merely because they could write "a fine text," or
" an elegant running hand." The art of commu-
nicating our thoughts by writing, is one of the
most useful accomplishments, which every person
from the highest to the lowest ranks of society
. ought to possess. To attain a certain degree of
neatness and regularity in writing is highly desir-
able; and where a taste for elegance in this art ex-
ists, it should be encouraged, though not at th«
expense of more substantial acquirements. To
write straight, to attend to the proper use of capi-
tal letters, and to arrange the subject of writing
into distinct sentences and paragraphs, so as to
render the writing easily legible, and the senti-
ments perspicuous to others, should be consider^
ed as the great object of this art; and such quali-
ties of writing are undoubtedly of more importance,
in the practical purposes to which it may be ap-
plied, than the acquirement of the most elegant
"dashes "and "flourishes" of penmanship. I
have, indeed, known but few individuals who have
prided themselves in such showy accomplishments,
who were not extremely superficial in their other
attainments. It is a very odd circumstance, and
shows to what a ridiculous length a fastidious taste
for elegant writing may be carried — that most of
the higher ranks, who have been taught by the
first writing-masters, now consider it as fashion-
able to write an illegible scrawl, which is nothing
else than a caricature of good plain writing—
which is the pest of merchants, printers, editors,
and every other class of correspondents — which
costs them a world of trouble before it can be read;
and, in many cases, the very names of the writers
can scarcely be deciphered. This is elegance
with a witness; it is carrying it to its highest pitch
of perfection, by rendering the art of writing al-
most useless for the purpose for. which it wa»
intended. I do not mean, by these remarks, t«

ABSTRACT ARITHMETICAL INSTRUCTIONS.

25

Insinuate fliat care and attcution should not be
bestowed, in order to acquire a neat and accurate
mode of writing; but merely to modify tluit undue
degree pf importance whicli is attached to tiie ac-
cornplishmenl ol '• iine writing," and to impress
npon the mind this sentiment, that a man may be
possessed of very slender attainments in this art,
in respect to elegance, and yet provo a good gene-
ral teacher; while another may excel iu all the
ornani'Mital flourishes of penmanship, and, at the
eanie time, be altogether unqualified for directing
the young mind in knowledge ami virtue. I have
known parents and guardians who seemed to con-
sider the most useful and substantia! accomplish-
ments of youth as of little value, while their chil-
dren remained in the smallest degree deficient in
the flimsy ornaments of writing, and the higher
elegancies of penmanship. In a word, to arrest
and record the useful ideas which pass through our
minds,to communicate them toothers, in such well
defined characters, and \vith such external neatness
and order as may be most per.spicuous and easily
legible — to acquire a certain degree of facility and
rapidity in forming characters and words — and to
state mercantile accounts with taste, accuracy,
and precision — should be considered as the
great objocts of the art of writing, beyond which
it is of little importance to aspire; thougli. at the
Bame time, no individual should be discouraged
from indulging a taste for elegance in this depart-
ment, when it does not absorb the attention from
more important pursuits.

VI. With regard to our mode of teaching Arith-
uw.tic, a variety of strictures might be made.
This department of scholastic instruction, like all
the rest, is generally conducted in too abstract a
manner — too much detached from the objects of
sense, and from the pursuits of science and the
business of human life, to which it has a refe-
rence. As all our notions on any branch of hu-
man knowledge are originally derived from sensi-
ble objects, so our ideas of numbers and their
various relations and combinations, must be
derived from the same source; and consequently,
with""* r" 'eference to the original objects and
ideas wnence the notion of numbers is derived,
no accurate impression of their signification and
use can be made on the juvenile mind. A boy
may be tangHt to distinguish the character 9 from
the rest of the digits, and yet may remain devoid
of a distinct conception of the idea for which it
stands; and in the same manner, he may be taught
by rote, that y-(-8==:l7; that IG— 9=7; that 7
times 8 are 56; and that the quotient of 64, divided
by 14, is equal to 6, without attaching any definite
conception to such arithmetical processes. — By
neglecting to illustrate the fundamental rules of
arithmetical computation, in a familiar and amu-
sing manner, by presenting to the eye the precise
objects or ideas which numbers represent, we
leave the young arithmetician to grope in the
dark, and to a vagueness and confusion of con-
ception in all tlie subsequent operations of this
useful study.

In most of our elementary arithmetical works,
the questions for exercise in the different rules are
not so simple and interesting to young minds as
they might be rendered. The practical use of the
various operations — tlie commercial transactions
to which they refer, and the extent and capacity
of the weights and measures about which their
calculations are employed, are seldom appreciated
with any d'^gree of precision, for want of the
original ideas denoted by the terms employed, and
for want of tliose models and representations of
money, weights, and measures, by which they

might be illustrated. In many instances, too, there
is a studied brevity and obscurity, and a ten lency
to puzzle and perplex, instead of rendering the
operations of Arithmetic simple and perspicuous.
VVhile a young person may easily be made to per-
ceive the object and meaning of such questions as
the following — " What is the price of .3U lemons
at twopence a-piece?" or, "If one pair of shoes
cost 5s. 6d., what will 7 pair of shoes cost?" — he
is quite puzzled to conceive what is the precise
meaning of scones of questions arranged in col-
umns in the following manner — 497865 a. l-id. —
764.3984 a .3'l^d— 46794 a 4s. 7Mf/.— 444766 a
15s. a 11?4<^., &-C. &c. Even although he may
happen to perform mechanically the operatior.s in-
tended, he frequently knows nothing at all of the
principle and object of his calculations. It is
true, indeed, the teacher is expected to explain the
nature and design of such questions; but in a
crowded promiscuous school he cannot afford time
to give the necessary explanations to every indi-
vidual. And why should it be requisite? Why
should not every book on arithmetic be so con-
spicuous and explicit as to render the meaning
and o!ijf;ct"of everj' question clear and well defined
even to the youthful understanding? And why
should not questions, circumstances, and objects,
be selected as arithmetical exercises, which are
familiar to the young, and calculated to awaken
their curiosity and attention? In short, the great-
er part of our arithmetical treatises, like our "School
Collections," " English Readers," and "Beauties
of Eminent Writers," are calculated for men of
advanced years, instead of being adapted to the ca-
pacities and the range of thought possessed by
boys and girls of from eight to twelve years of age
I might have enlarged to an indefinite extent on
this topic; but several additional remarks liiay be
introduced more appropriately in the sequel, when
I shall take an opportunity of throwing out a few
hints for tiie improvement of the present system
of education.

In addition to the above remarks, I shall now
briefly state a few miscellaneous circnmstances
which have a tendency either to impede the edu-
cation of the young, or to reader it disagreeable
and irksome.

1. In the first place, inmost of ourscboolsbofh in
town and country — there is a deplorable vnnt of -^
ample accommodation, and of convenient school furni-
ture. In many cases, a hundred children are com-
pressed into a space scarcely sufficient for the easy
accommodation of one-third of that number, and
appear huddled together like a flock of sheep pent
up in a narrow pen. Scarcely a jjassage can be
obtained for moving from one place to another;
and when one class is about to retire, and another
is called up, a noise, and jcstling, and hubbub en-
sue, which throws the whole school into confusion.
The narrow and unsteady forms on which the
scholars are obliged to sit — the awkward tables —
the confined air — and the press and general disor-
der which frequently occur, all conspire to n-nder
ti)e hours devoted to instruction tedious and un-
pleasant, and to make the school partake some-
thing of the nature of a jail.* Beside, in most of
onr cities and towns, the school-rooms are gene-
rally situated in dark closes or narrow lanes, where
there is a sufiiciency neither of light nor of pure

* It ma/ be proper to state, that in these, and the preced-
ing and subsequent remarks, there is no pnrticuhr allusion'
to (irammar-seliools and otlier public seminaries Tnr instiTic-
tion in the higher branches ofediication; but chiefly to those
schools both in town and country wliere the mass of the
community is attempted to be instructe.' in the rommoa
branches of eiiucatioD,

26

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

¥

air, nor of space for the occasional amnscnieut of
the cliiKiron; so that leuniing, inslea<l of hoing
connected wiih clieorful and fnliv<nun£r objects,
becomes as:sociatod with everything that is gloomy,
dirty, and disagreeable. A school lias generally
been considered as a "noisy mansion;" and, as
presently conducted, it is next to impossiblf; it
should be otherwise. 'J'here is uotliingwliich pro-
duces greater annoyance to a teacher, than the
hum and the frequent clamors of a hundred
tongues assailing him on every side; and wherever
such noisy turbulence daily prevails, it is impossi-
ble that a train of rational instrucllonscan be suc-
cessfully carried forward. Of the many causes of
noise and confusion in schools, 1 am persuaded
this is none of the least — the want of space and
proper accommodation for the various movements,
classifications and arrangements, which th.o busi-
ness of instruction requires- and the want of sep-
arate apartments, or of an ample inclosed area
around the school, into which a portion of liie
children, even during school hours, might occa-
sionally be sent, either for amusement, or for the
preparation of their lessons, so as to prevent the
general annoyance of the teacher.

2. Another circumstance which tends to make
learning disagreeable to the young, is, that they
are in c/eneral confined too long in scJiool. When a
boy is tirst sent to school, he is kept in a confined
posture for two or three liours at a time, and gen-
erally for five or six hours in a day. His direct
attention to his lesson, during all this time, does
not perhaps excfeed fifteen or twenty minutes.
During the whole of the remaining hours he re-
ceives no instruction, and either sits as stifF as a
poker, or becomes restless and noisy, or sinks
into sleep. He dares not speak to his companions
for fear of punishment, he cannot, without assis-
tance, apply his attention to the unknown charac-
ters and sounds he is set to learn, he cannot amuse
himself with his windmills and whistles, and, con-
sequently, he feels himself in a state destitute of
enjoyment. Can it then be wondered at that
young people, should so frequently feel an aver-
eion to school, and required to be driven to it as
slaves to their task- work, or as culprits to a jail?
In such a case as I have now supposed, there is no
reason why a child should be confined to school be-
yond half an hour at any one time; and it is
a piece of absurdity, and even of cruelty, to pro-
long their confinement a moment beyond the
limits which are essentially requisite for their in-
struction; and yet many parents are so foolish as
to think, that the progress of their children ought
to keep pace with the number of hours they are
immured within the walls of the school-room.
Children are not mere machines, whose move-
ments may be regulated by weights and springs,
they must give scope to their natural vivacity
and desire for activity, and must feel, like all other
animals, when they are confined to unnatural at-
titudes, and cramped in their movements. The
tongue — that " unruly member " among all ranks
and ages — cannot be restrained; the space of
twelve inches square, allotted them for their seat,
they will not be confined to; their feet and limbs
will not remain in that precise mathematical po-
sition which order is supposed to require; neither
will their hands remain in the same unvaried pos-
ture as those of a marble statue, but will occasion-
illy be pushing, first toward one side, and then
toward another for the benefit of their compan-
ions. Hence arise noise, dissension, altercation,
ana disorder — the chief circumstances which ren-
der corporeal punishment at all expedient in pub-
lic schools

To confine a little boy in school, contrary to
his inclination, when no useful purposes can bo
served by it, and when it is productive of so many
inconveniences to the teacher, to the general in-
terests of the school, and to the boy himself — ap-
pears to be the bight of folly, and imprudence,
and must present to the juvenile mind a forbidding
prospect of the path which leads to the temple of
knowletlge. Even when children have advanced
to that stage in their education where they are ca-
pable of preparing their lessons by themselves,
it app.'irs improper to confine theru lojiger than
theiralljntion can be fixed to their scholastjc ex-
ercises. Fifteen or twenty minutes of unremit-
ting app'ication to their lessons before and after
having been heard by their teacher in their respec-
tive classes, would be of more importance, in pro-
moting their progress in learning, than two or three
hours spent in yawning over their books, or devo-
ted, as is usually the case, to noisy prattle and
impertinence. Those scholars who are farthei
advanced, or are engaged in arithmetical or othei
processes, may remain during all the hours usu
ally allotted to scholastic instruction. — In throw-
ing out these remarks, I do not mean to insi-
nuate, that teachers should have much less con-
finement in public schools than they now have,
I only propose it as a principle, which should gen-
erally be acted upon, that children should nevei
be confined to school a minute longer than is abso-
lutely necessary for their instruction, and, if this
principle were generally recognized, promiscuous
schools would no longer present a scene of idleness
and impertinence, of noisy bustle and confusion
But, whatever may be the opinion of teachers on
this head, the majority of parents in the presenl
age are generally in opposition to all such arrange-
ments.

3.' The exercise of undue severity toward the young
and the want of a disposition to bestow commendation
jiihere it is due — is another circumstance which re-
tards the beneficial effects of education. In every
rank and department of human life, mankind are
too much disposed to find fault with the opinions
and conduct of others, and to pass a harsh sen-
tence on the minor delinquencies of their neigh-
bors; while they are slow in bestowing their com-
mendation on those actions and qualities which
are laudable and excellent This disposition, we
have reason to believe, is too frequently displayed
in public seminaries of instruction. In many in-
stances, trivial faults are magnified into great of-
fenses; corporeal punishment is inflicted for slight
inadvertencies; the tei'ms, blockhead, scoundrel,vil-
lain, ass, dunce, numskull, and other degrading
ej)ithets, are liberally applied to the youthful group,
aecause they occasionally give way to their
[)layful humors, or because they do not thorough-
\y comprehend what has never been clearly ex-
plained to them. When theirconduct is unimpeach-
able, they are simply screened from punishment;
but the meed of praise for diligence and improve-
ment— which has so obvious a tendency to cheei
and animate the youthful mind; is slowly and re-
luctantly bestowed. Those endearing appellations
to which they are accustomed under the domestic
roof are seldom heard in the village school; and
scolding, threatening, and the detested lash, are too
frequently "the order of the day." While they
are sometimes exercised in writing the following
sentiment on their copy-books, " Cominendation
animates the jnind," the voice of praise and com-
mendation is seldom heard resounding from the
desk, because, forsooth, they have not yet attained
to perfection in their behavior, or in any of their
Kchola.stic exercises. Imperfections attach them-

SEVERITY TOWARD THE YOUNG.

27

•elves to the performances of every human being;
but where should we find a person grown up to
manhood, who would not feel indignant at being
perpetually found fault with in all his operations,
and who would not be discouraged in the prosecu-
tion of his plans, when that portion of praise to
which he is justly entitled is studiously withheld?
An assemblage of children in a school is a repub-
lic in miniature, animated materially by the same
principles, passions and interests, as those which
appear in action on the theater of the great world,
only directed to inferior objects and pursuits.
They must, therefore, feel indignant at the epi-
thets, the threatenings, and the blustering, with
which they are so frequently assailed, and must
also feel that injustice is done them, when every
trivial fault and oversight is magnified into a crime.
And, on the other hand, we know by experience,
that nothing contributes more to cheer and stimu-
late the juvenile mind than to receive the merited
approbation of guardians and instructors.

4. Another circumstance prejudicial to an accu-
rate and enlightened education, is the practice of
hurrying children too rapidly from one hook to an-
other. In the "Statistical View of Education in
Scotland," published in the Christian Instructor
during t\ye year 1819, it is stated by most of the
teachers, that the children at their several schools
can read the New Testament by the time tliey
have been one year at school. Nay, some of them
assert, that they can read it in six mouths, and
even during the second and third quarters.* That
tlie New Testament is put into the hands of chil-
dren at the periods now stated, and tliat they are
allowed to stammer through it in the best manner
they can, is doubtless a fact, and a fact which is m uc!i
to be regretted ; but that a child that goes to school at
the age of four or five, is able, in ordinary cases,
to read the New Testament with any tolerable
degree of accuracy and ease, in six, nine, or even
In twelve months, is altogether incredible. There
are many passages in this book as difficult to be
read as the writings of the generality of English
authors, and, if a boy or girl can once read it with
propriety and ease, a very little additional practice
will suffice to enable him to read any other En-
glish work. The statements to which I ' refer,
however, show that the practice of hurrying chil-
dren from one book to another, is too prevalent in
many of the parochial schools of this country,
and must, consequently, be attended with a train
of pernicious effects. I have seen children sent to
school with a Testament in their hand, as a class-
book, who could not read a single verse, and
could scarcely pronounce two or three of the easi-
est vocables without pausing to spell almost every
word that occurred, and who, at the same time,
appeared deficient in their knowledge of the char-
acters of the alphabet. Before children can read
such a book as the New Testament, with any de-
gree of ease and fluency, tliey must bo trained to
tlie exercise of spelling, and of reading a variety
of appropriate lessons accommodated to their capa-
cities, until they can read a sentence or a paragraph
without blundering or hesitation. But how is this
proficiency to be acquired? — how can a child,
with propriety, be transferred from one spelling
book to another, and from one series of reading
lessons to another, in the space of six or eight
months? The practice to which I refer, seems
almost to imply, that they are conducted at once
frc^i a twopenny Primer to the Evangelical His-
tory or the Acts of the Apostles. A pupil should

• See Christian Instrnctor for Angujt and November, 1819,
jf. 561 aad 763.

be able to read with' ease every initiatory book
that is put into his hands before he is transferred to
another. For, by passing with a rapid transition
from one book to another, and to lessons which
are too difficult for his articulation and coi^prehen-
sion, he will be apt to acquire a hesitating and a
blundering habit of reading; he will be discour-
aged in his progress; he will seldom attemi)t to
aim at accuracy and perfection; he will appreciate
few of the ideas contained in his lessons; he will
seldom acquire even the elements of accurate
spelling and pronunciation, and will be apt to
continue through life, an awkward, an incorrect,
and an injudicious reader.

5. The last circumstance I shall mention, in
the meantime, as prejudicial to an accurate and en-
lightened education, is — the attempt to tiach three
or four -branches of education at the same time.
The principle of the division of labor, and its
utility when applied to the various departments
of art, science, and commerce, are now fully ap-
preciated and realized; and to this circumstance
is to be attributed many of the improvements of
modern times. In cities and large towns this prin-
ciple has also been applied successfully to the art
of teaching. But it is well known that in the ma-
jority of schools, especially in the country, an at-
tempt is made to teach reading, grammar, writing,
arithmetic, book-keeping, mathematics, Latin,
French, and other branches, in the same sch.ool,
by the same teacher, and at the same time. The
consequence is, that none of them is taught with
efficiency and accuracy — which can only be ob-
tained by allotting separate hours for each distinct
department of knowledge, and, if possible, having
separate teachers for each branch of scholastic in-
struction. Before this principle, however, can be
followed out to its full extent in country schools,
a variety of arrangements require to be made, a
variety of difficulties and obstructions removed,
and a variety of new scholastic institutions estab-
lished— the details of which I shall postpone to a
subsequent section of this work.

Such is a brief sketch of some of the evils and
defects connected with the system of instruction
which has so long prevailed in this country. It
treats rational beings as if they wrere mere machines;
it presents the forth of education without the sub-
stance— it expend:! its energies on words instead of
things — it rests in the means of knowledge, with-
out prosecuting the end — it stimulates the memo-
ry, and even tortures it, by cramming its compart-
ments with sounds instead of sense, but permits
the understanding to remain in darkness and deso-
lation— it indirectly iosiers malignant passions, but
leaves the benevolent affections waste and unculti-
vated— it throws a gl?)om over the enjoyments of
the young, instead of inspiring them with delight
at tlie prospect of being introduced to the sublime
and interesting scenes presented in the temple of
knowledge — it conveys a jumble of confused no-
tions into their minds, but leaves them ignorant of
all that is grand and ennobling, and interesting to
man as a rational and immortal intelligence. la
proof of these positions, we need only look
around us on the various ranks of society. Where
is there one individual out of twenty to be found,
who lias his mind enlightened in the knowledge,
of those subjects with which every human being,
considered as a rational, social, and immortal
being, ought to be acquainted? .Where is there
even to be found a relish for useful information
find intellectual improvement, among the majority
of those who have gone the round of the usual
course of education? And where are to be seen tha

28

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

moral ejects of our scholastic (raining on ttie stage
of social anil active life? Is not ignorance still a
prominent trail in the great mass of our popula-
tion? Do not vice and iiumorality very gene-
rally prevail? And are not seltisliuess and ava-
rice, envy and revenge, sensuality and other
groveling atll-ctions, still the distinguishing cha-
rttcteri-^lics of the majority of the lower orders, and
even of the higher ranks of society, notwithstand-
ing the scholastic process through which they
have passed? Ifany individuals in our times have
been excited to the prosecution of rational and sci-
entific pursuits, the stimulus has been derived from
other quartei-s, from other circumstances, and from
other institutions. The greater part of the benefit
derived from the existing system, consists in a
considerable portion of our population having ac-
quire;], to a certain degree, the' art of reading, and,
consequently, the capacity of rendering it subser-
vient to the acquisition of knowledge, n-hen certain
peculiar arulj'anorabla circumstances in after life con-
spire to stimulate their mental activity, and to pro-
ducea relish for rational enjoyments. But, it may
be affirmed, without tlie least hesitation, that there
is not one out of twenty of the population who
is stimulated, in this way, to rise superior
to his groveling associates in the scale of
intelligence. — Such considerations evidently show,
that the system of instruction hitherto adopted is
glaringly defective and inefficient for the improve-
ment of society in knowledge and virtue; — and
must be subverted and new-modeled, if ever we
expect to see mankind raised to that rank which
they ought to hold in the scale of moral and intel-
lectual excellence. Until this object be accom-
plished, 1 veriiy believe, that, notwitlistanding the
in.structious delivered from a thousand pulpits,
very little change to the better will appear on the
face of general society; for the public instructions
of religion are neillier understood nor appreciated
by the one-half of our church-going population,
owing to the deficiency of their mora! culture in
the early periods of life. That such a futile and
inefficient system of tuition should have so long
prevailed in this enlightened age, as it is generally
termed, and that no pov/erful and general exer-
tions Siiould have been made for its improvement
13 little short of a libel on tlie common sense and
tlie Christianity of our. country.

In throwing out the preceding hints on the
errors and deficiencies of the present system of
education, let it be ca/efully remembered, that I
am far from attaching blame indiscriminately to
that respectable body of men who superintend the

farochial and other seminaries in this country.
t is indeed to be regretted, that there are too
many persons employed as teachers who consider
themselves as sufficiently qualified for the office,
if they can write a tolerably good hand and cast
accounts. But, on the other hand, it is one of the
pleasing signs of our times, that the characters
and qualifications of teachers are rapidly advanc-
ing in respectability, and our public schools are
in general filled with men of learning and talent.
It is to the ST/stem of teaching, — and not to the
respectable individuals who act under it, — that
these strictures more particularly refer. I am
fully aware of the difficulties and the opposition
which teachers have to encounter when they de-
viate from the common mode — arising from pre-
judices in favor of established practices, the ig-
norance of parents, and the foolish and unchris-
tian modes by which man^v children are trained
under the domestic roof. Many of our intelligent
teachers perceive the evils of the present system,
but they are obliged, in tiie meantime, "to act

under it. In their individual and insulated capacity,
unsupported by public patronage, they cannot re-
move its essential defects, nor attempt any material
or important improvement, in consequence of the
current of popular opinion ; and their deviation
from established practices would, in certain cases,
tend to injure their pecuniary interests. I have
known instructors af youth who have attempted
improvements similar to some of those above
hinted at, who were afterward constrained to
throw them aside, owing to the causes now sped
fied. I knew one in particular, who selected the
most simi)le and interesting reading-lessons, and
caused his pupils to give an account of every
leading idea contained in them — vvlm likewise
attempted to explain the meaning of every ques-
tion, Psalm and passage, which was to be com-
mitted to memory, and consequentl}^ a very small
portion only was prescribed, that it might be
clearly understood and accurately repeated. But
this plan could not be endured by those who
estimate the quantity of instruction by the num-
ber of unmeaning lines and vocables which tlioir
children can vociferate. Such persons consider
the repetition of three or four pages of mere
words without ideas, as of far more importance
than the communication of a hundred well-
defined notions. He also caused the children,
after their lessons were prepared and rehearsed,
to write upon slates — letters, triangles, parallelo-
grams, and other mathematical figui-cs and dia-
grams, in order to keep them fully einployed
while in school; and occasionally permission was
granted to scratch whatever they pleased on their
slates — men, horses, liouses, windmills, or any
otlier fancy, as a reward for the attention they
had previously bestowed. But he was obliged to
desist from the prosecution of these and other
plans, in consequence of " the hue and cry"
which was raised about such " trifling modes of
tuition."

It is, therefore, pretty obvious, that no general
or extensive improvement in the system of educa-
tion can be expected, until a strong conviction be
produced in the minds of the intelligent nublic of
the necessity of a more rational and efficient sj's-
tem being adopted, and until a powerful and
simultaneous movement take place among all
classes, in order to the erection and endowment
of seminaries calculated to produce a moral and
an intellectual education. For many of the prin-
ciples which pervade the present mode of tuition
require to be completely reversed, and a system
organized which shall form the foundation of the
future progress of the human race — which will
bear the test of succeeding and enlightened ages
— which will render the acquisition of knowledge
pleasant and desirable to the young — and which
will embrace everything that is interesting to man
as an intellectual being, as a member of society,
and as a candidate for a blessed immort'.lity.

In the meantime, I am fully convinced (how-
ever extravagant aud paradoxical the sentiment
may appear ), that the great majority of our
youth acquire more real and substantial knowledge,
during their play hours, and in their various
amusements and intercourses with each other,
than they acquire during the formal process of
teaching while in school. At these times they
acquire a rude knowledge of the appearances and
qualities of various objects; of some of the laws
of Nature and its general scenery ; of the forms,
economy, and varieties of vegetables, — of the
habits and instincts of animals ; of tlie applica-
tion of several mechanical powers ; and of the
various modilicatioiis of human temper and ac-

RESULTS OF INEFFICIENT EDUCATION.

29

tion. Their games at shuttle-cock, uine-pins,
marbles, balls and tops — their exercises iu svviin-
ming, ruuiiiiig, climbing, swinging and jumping
— their visits to museums, menagi-ries, and other
exhibitions of natural auJ artificial curiosities —
tlieir views of the siiipping, and the operations
coimected witii it in seaport towns — their occa-
ai.nal excursions to the delightful and romantic
scenes of the country, and the daily spectacle of
the ebbing and ilowing of the sea, of the sun
shining in his glory, and of the moon walking in
brightness among the hosts of stars — convey to
their minds fragments of useful knowledge, more
diversified and practical, than anything they ac-
quire f\-om their catechisms, spelling-books, gram-
mars, and "English Readers," in the manner iu
which they are generally taught. Iu school they
acquire, indeed, tiie means of knowledge, in being
taught the arts of reading, writing, and arithme-
tic; but as they are seldom taught to apply these
means to their proper ends, little knowledge is
thereby acquired; and, iu the majority of in-
stances, they depart from school, and pass the re-
mainder of their lives, without ever thinking of
making the further cultivation of their minds
even a subordinate object of pursuit — glad that tliey
are at length released from the confinement and
drudgery connected with scholastic discipline.
As a proof of this I need only appeal to the igno-
rance, and prejudices, the foolish opinions and
the wayward passions, which still pervade the
greater portion of the inferior ranks of our
population, and even of the middling and higher
classes — and the disincliuatioa which so generally
exists to rational investigations, and to prosecut-
ing the path of mental improvement.

Much has of late been said on the subject of
tbolishlng corporeal punishment in schools; and it
to certainly a highly desirable object, which we
aiffuld endeavor to promote by every means in
our power. But we can have little hope that this
will ever be fully attained while the present plan
of education continues in operation, and while
the Pjajority of children are so injudiciously
traii.ed, as at present, by their parents and guar-
diai>>i. If, however, the evils complained of in
this chapter were removed; if the books which
are put into the hands of children were interesting
and level to their comprehension ; if they were
taught to understand the lessons tliey read and
commit to memory; if the understanding and the
affections were as frequently exercised as the
memory; if the mechanical drudgery of gram-
mar were postponed to a period when they could
enter into its spirit and applications; If the i)ro-
cesses of arithmetic were more frequently illus-
trated by sensible objects and representations ; if

interesting experiments and representations, cal-
culated to illustrate the operations of nature and
art, were frequently exhibited ; if ample and
agreeable accommodation were furnished, both
within and without doors; if they were not too
long confined iu school ; if a spirit of concilia-
tion on the part of teachers, and a disposition to
bestow merited commendation, were generally
exercised ; if every brauch of education wera
taught at separate hours, and the attention of the
pupil completely engaged while in school; and if
a system of moral training were to form a proini-
nent object in the business of education — wo have
good reason to believe that corporeal punishment
might be almost, if not altogether superseded ;
and the employment of teaching in crowded
promiscuous schools, instead of resembling Paul's
" fighting with beasts at Epliesus," might become
a rational, interesting, and delightful employment,
both to the teacher and to the scholars.*

* The preceding strictures, chiefly written in 1S21, were
pul)lisheil in the Eilinhurgh Christian Instructor, for March
18^, and February 1823. Tlie Autlior lias good ground*
for slating, that they proved a stimulus to the active mina
of its learned Editor, the late Dr. A. Thomson, in exciting-
to those arrangements which were afterward made in St.
George's Parish, over which he presided, for establishing
schools on a more enliglitened system, both for the children
of the higher and the lower ranks within that district. In the
autumn of 1823, the author had several conversations with
the Doctor, by special request, in reference to this subject,
in which he unfolded his leading ideas on what he consid-
ered the true principles of education and the improvements
that required to be introduced, wliich in general met the
Doctor's approbation, and appeared to coincide with the
views he bad lately adopted on the subject. He showed
the author, at the same time, a variety of natural and arti-
ficial objects, which he had jiartly purchased, and partly
received as donations from certain benevolent ladies, with
the view of introducing them as part of an improved sys-
tem of tuition which he intended soon to establish; and
urgently requested him to continue his disquisitions on edu-
cation, in the Christian Instructor, at certain moderate in-
tervals between the appearance of the different essays, in
order that the sidyect miglit be kept for some time before t.h«
view of the public. The intended communications, owing
to certain circumstances, were never published; liut the
substance of what was then intended to be communicated
will be found in the following pages. The schools estab-
lislied by Dr. Thomson, alluded to above, along with tli«
Edinburgh Sessional School, under the superintendence of
iMr. Wood, are material improvements on the usual mode
of scholastic instruction, and though deficient in many im-
portant particulars, approximate, in a considerable degree,
to the true intellectual mode of tuition.

The strictures thrown out in the preceding pages, more
particularly apjdy to the parochial and other schools in Scot-
land, for the instruction of the midille and lower classes;
but most of them are likewise aj)|)licable to the general
modes of tuition in England. Since the period stated
above, when they were first written, a few schools on more
improved plans, have been established; but their number
does not, perhaps, exceed twenty or thirty throughout the
whole of North Britain; so that the jireceding remarks will
still apply to the modes of instruction geneiaily practiced ia
our country.

Yon. L— ay

CHAPTER III.

HINTS IN REFERENCE TO A COMPREHENSIVE AND IMPROVED SYSTEM

OF EDUCATION.

The education of human beings, coiisiJcrcd in
its most extensive sense, compreiieucis evei-ytliiiig
wliich is requisite to the ciillivalion and improve-
ment of the facuhies bestowed upon them by the
Creator. It ought to embrace everytliiiig that has
a tendency to strengthen and invigorate the ani-
mal system — to enlighten and expand the under-
standing— to regulate the feelings and dispositions
of the lieart — and, in general, to direct the moral
powers in such a manner as to render tliose who
are the subjects of instruction liappy in them-
selves, useful members of society, and qualiiied
for entering on the scenes and employments of a
future and more glorious existence. The series
of instructions by which these ends are to be at-
tained, ought to be continued, not mei-ely for five
or six years, or less than the tenth part of the
period of human existeuce — but during the whole
of that inierval which lies between the cradle and
ike </rave.

It is a very common but absurd notion, and has
been too long acted upon — that the education of
our youth terminates, or should terminate, about
the age of thirteen or fourteen years. Hence, in
an article on this subject, in one of our encyclo-
pedias, education is defined to bo "that series of
means by which the human understanding is gra-
dually enlightened, between infancy and the
period when we consider ourselves as qualified to
take a part in active life, and ceasinc/ to direct our
views to the acquisition of new knowledge or the
formation of new habits, are content to act upon
the principles we have already acquired." This
definition, though accordant with general opinion
and practice, is certainly a very limited and defec-
tive view of the subject. In the orihuary mode
of our scholastic instruction, education, so far
from being fnished at the age above stated, can
scarcely be said to have commenced. The key of
knowledge has indeed been put Into the hands of
the young; but they have never been taught' to
unlock the gates of the Temple of Science, to
enter within its portals, to contemplate its trea-
sures, and to feast their minds on the entertain-
ments there provided. Several moral rules and
maxims have been impressed on their memories;
but they have seldom been taught to appreciate
them in all their bearings, or to reduce them to
practice in the various and minute ramifications
of their conduct. Beside, although every rational
means were employed for training the youthful
mind until near the age of puberty, no valid reason
can be assigned why regular instruction should
cease at this early period. Man is a progressive
being; his faculties are capable of an indefinite
expansion; the objects to which these faculties
may be directed are boundless and infinitely diver-
sified; he is moving onward to an eternal world,
and, .n the present state, can never expect to
grasp the universal system of created objects, or
to rise to the highest point of moral excellence.
His tuition, therefore, cannot be supposed to ter-
minate at any period of his terrestrial existeuce;
(30)

and the course of iiis life ought to be c^-ns.aered
as nothing more than the course of his education.
When he closes his eyes in death, and bids a last
adieu to everything here belov/, he passes into a
more permanent and expansive sphere of exist-
ence, where his education will likewise be pro-
gressive, and where intelligences of a higher order
may he his instructors; and the education he
received in this transitory scene, if it was properly
conducted, will form the groundwork of all his
future progressions in knowledge and virtue
throughout the succeeding periods of eternity.
There are two very glaring defects which
appear in most of our treatises on education. In
the first place, the inoral tuition of youthful
minds, and the grand principles of religion
which ought to direct their views and conduct,
are either entirely overlooked, or treated of in so
vague and general a manner, as to induce a belief
thai, they are considered as matters of very infe-
rior moment; and, in the business of teaching,
and the superintendence of the young, the moral
precepts of Christianity are seldom made to bear,
with particularity, upon every malignant affection
that manifests itself, and every minor delinquency
that appears in their conduct — or to direct the
benevolent affections how to operate in every
given circumstance, and in all their intercourses
and associations. In the next place, the idea
that man is a being destined to an immortal exis-
tence, is almost, if not altogether overlooked.
Volumes have been written on the best modes of
training men for the profession of a soldier, of a
naval oliicer, of a merchant, of a physician, of a
lawyer, of a clergyman, and of a statesman; but
I know of no treatise on this subject which, in con-
nection with other subordinate aims, has for its
grand object to develop that train of instruction
which is most appropriate for man considered as
a candidate for immortality. This is the more
unaccountable, since, in the works alluded to, the
eternal destiny of human beings is not called in
question, and is sometimes referred to as a general
position which cannot be denied — yet the means
of instruction requisite to guide them in safety to
their final destination, and to prepare them for the
employments of their everlasting abode, are either
overlooked, or referred to in general terms, as if
tiiey were unworthy of particular consideration
To admit the doctrine of the immortality of the
human soul, and yet leave out the consideration
of it, in a system of mental instruction, is both
impious and preposterous, and inconsistent wilh
the principle on which we generally act in other
cases, which requires, that affairs of the greatest
moment should occupy our chief attention If
man is only a transitory inhabitant of this owe?
world, if he is journeying to another and more
important scene of action and enjoyment, .'f his
abode in this higher scene is to be permanent and
eternal, and if the course of instruction thiough
which he now passes has an important bearing ou
his happiness in that state, aud lus preparaUoDa

PROCESS OF INFANTILE EDUCATION.

31

for its employments — every system of education
must be gUiriugly defective which either over-
looks, or tlirows into tlie shade, tiie immortal des-
tination of human beings.

If tiiese sentiments be admitted as just, the
education of tlie young must be a subject of the
highest importance — and there cannot be an object
more interestiug to Science, to Religion, and to
general Christian society, than the forming of
tliose arrangements, and the establishing of those
institutions, which are calculated to train the
minds of all ranks to knowledge and moral recti-
tude, and to guide their steps in the path which
leads to a blessed immortality. In this process
there is no period of human life that ought to be
overlooked — we must begin the work of instruc-
tion when the first dawning of reason begins to
appear, and continue the process through all the
succeeding periods of mortal existence, until the
spirit takes its flight to the world unknown.

In the following cursory observations, I shall,
in the first place, offer a few general remarks on
the proper training of the young during the
earlier stages of life, and afterward illustrate
some of the modes of instruction which may be
proper to be adopted in the more advanced stages
of human existence. It may be proper, however,
to premise, that I have no intention of presenting
to the reader a detailed system of education, but
only a few general hints in reference to the out-
lines of this important subject, and to the princi-
ples on which a system of rational tuition ought
to be conducted

SECTION I

On the eddcation of the young during the
period of infancy.

At the moment a child is ushered into the
world, and first draws into its lungs the atmo-
spheric air. it may be said to commence its edu-
cation. What its sensations are, when it has
emerged from the watery fluid with which it was
surrounded, and inhales this new element, it is
impossible to determine ; but from the sounds
which it utters, we may reasonably conjecture
that they are attended with jiain. It struggles
and cries — hunger produces an uneasy sensation
— it feels a want — that feeling opens its lips, and
makes it seize and greedily suck the nourishing
breast of its mother. At this period its eyes are
generally dull and languid; it seems to keep them
fixed and idle; they want that luster which they
aftenvard acquire; and if they happen to move,
it is rather an accidental gaze, than an exertion
of the faculty of seeing. But, after some months
have elapsed, its vision becomes distinct, its or-
gans are fortified, and it becomes susceptible of
various impressions from surrounding objects.
Then the senses of seeing, hearing, tasting, touch-
ing, and smelling, begin to act with a certain
degree of vigor; all the avenues to the mind are
thrown open; the objects of nature and art rush
in crowds to their respective organs of sensation,
and engrave an indefinite assemblage of ideas
upon the mind, though perhaps with a certain
degree of irregularity and confusion. In this
first stage of existence, the various sensations it
feels, and the multifarious external objects it per-
ceives, may be considered as so many instructors
conveying the rudiments of knowledge to the in-
fant mind.

As the infant advances in its new career, mul-
titudes of objects of various descriptions begin to
solicit its attention. A thousand sounds, of dif-
ferent degrees of intensity, and variously modi-
fied, strike its ears, producing various indescriba-
ble emotions; a thousand visible objects of diver-
sified forms and colors present themselves to his
visual organs, producing pleasure or pain, desire
or aversion. By insensible degrees it learns to
see and to hear — to mark the difference between
one sound and another, and between one object
of vision and another — to distinguish the form
and countenance of its mother from those of
other iuJividuals, and to bike an interest in some
of the objects which compose the surrounding
scene. Being uniformly struck with the same
sensations and emotions in the presence of the
same objects, its memory begins to be exercised,
and it acquires a more accurate idea, and a more
distinct remembrance of them, in proportion to
the frequency with which these objects are pre-
sented to view. Its body, in the meantime,
gradually expands, and becomes more firm, vig-
orous, and alert. It crawls along the nursery or
parlor, below tables and chairs, examining every
object that falls in its way, and appears delighted
in exerting its muscular powers. It tries to stand
erect, and at length to walk; it tumbles and rolls
on the floor, uttering screams of pain and disap-
pointment. Numberless and repeated falls lead to
more caution, and teach it to endeavor to pre-
serve the equilibrium of its body, and to stand
firmly upon its legs; and the more frequent and
painful the falls, the more instructive they
prove, to teach it to balance its body, and to walk
with adroitness and ease. Having acquired, after
repeated exertions, a certain firmness of step, it
runs from one place to another, eagerly intent
upon new objects and pursuits, and feeling a de-
light in proportion as the range of its perceptions
is increased. It tries to climb a stair, and, after
repeated efforts, and exertions of hands and feet,
succeeds in the attempt; but, when arrived at the
top, and wishing to descend, it looks down to the
bottom, and, remembering the falls it formerly
experienced, feels a sense of danger, and screams
for assistance.

The child (whom we shall now distinguish by
the masculine pronoun) now runs about through
the garden or in the fields, and perceives a variety
of objects and operations. He sees a stone throwa
into tiie water, and siuk to the bottom; he sees a
piece of wood or the leaf of a tree fall into the same
water, and yet float on the surface; he amuses him-
self with numberless experiments of this kind, and
from these he graduallj' acquires his first ideas of
the specific gravity of bodies. If he take the
stone and the wood out of the water, and by
chance they fall upon his feet, he learns that the
heavier body falls with more force than the lighter,
from the unequal degree of pain occasioned by
the fall, and has his mind impressed with the idea
of their unequal hardness and weight. He strikes
a table with a stick, and soon after, a pane of
window-glass with the same weapon; he perceives
the glass broken to shivers, while the table re-
mains as before, and thus learns the difference be-
tween substances that are hard, and those that are
brittle, and that some bodies are broken with a
blow which others can resist. He views witli
pleasure a brilliant light, and ventures to put his
fingers to the blazing hearth, or to the flame of a
candle, but feels a sudden sensation of acute pain,
which warns him of the danger of using too
much familiarity with fire, notwithstanding its
alluring aspect He sees a cow, a dog, or a cat.

32

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

and is told its name, and, aftor froqiuMit roj>ptition.',
he learns to connnct the sound willi tlic object
which it is intended to repr.'si-nt. Ilo sees a horse
walking along a road, and afterward its tignre as
represented in an engraving, and soon learns to
recognize the resemblance of tlie one to tiie other.
In short, every person with wiiom he is acquaint-
ed, every individual object of which he becomes
fond — his rattles and his bells, hi:, drums and his
whistles, his little coaches and his jumping Jacks,
may all be considered as so many instructors
conveying lessons to his opening mind. — In ac-
quiring the information such objects are calculated
to afford, repeated exertions of the undcrsttinding
must necessarily be made. The knowledge of
any particular object, .-^s to its powers and qnuli-
ties, cannot he supposed to bo attained without an
effort similar to that which an adult person must
exert, when investigating the laws of Nature, and
the general economy of the universe. For, every-
thing a child sees or hears, in the first instance,
all the marks and characters of Nature, and the
qualities and operations of surrounding objects,
are as much unknown to him as the sciences of
Philology, Mathematics and Astronomy, to the
untutored savage; and, consequently, require a
certain degree of attention and reasoning before
the knowledge of them can be acquired.

The little student, however, prosecutes his ob-
Bcrvations and studies with apparent pleasure, and
with evident marks of industry, and soon ac-
quires pretty correct notions of the nature and
relations both of the inanimate and of the living
world. He learns to correct tiic illusions to
which he was at first exposed — to distinguish one
object from another, and to exert liis memory so
as to know them again, and to recognize their
general forms and qualities. It is amazing what
a degree of knowledge a child has thus acquired
before he arrives at the age of two years, or even
twenty months. By this time he has made a
thousand experiments on an indefinite variety of
objects, all which he has arranged in his mind,
and distinctly remembers. Light and heat, the
properties of fire and flame, of water and air, the
laws of projectiles and moving bodies, things
sweet and bitter, soft and hard, rough and smooth,
articulate sounds and the objects they denote,
sounds soft or loud, agreeable or terrible; horses,
cattle, dogs, asses, sheep, ducks, birds, butterflies,
beetles, worms, the clouds, the sun, moon, stars,
and numerous other objects — are all distinguished,
and many of their properties and relations indelibly
imprinted on the mind. He has acquired more
real knowledge during this short period, than he
generally does, on the present plan of instruction,
throughout the eight or ten succeeding j'cars of
his life; and it is a striking instance of the Be-
nevolence of the Creator, and a prelude of the
vast extent of knowledge he is afterward capable
of acquiring, that all these acquisitions are not
only made without pain, but, in the greater num-
ber of instances, are accompanied with the high-
est pleasure and enjoyment.

In the process of instruction, now described,
during the first two j-ears of human existence,
although Nature is the principal instructress, yet
she frequently requires to be guided by the liand
of Art; and much is left to the judicious atten-
tions of parents and guardians, that her benevo-
lent designs may not be thwarted, and that her
efforts may be conducted to their proper ends.
In throwing out a few hints on this point, our
remarks may be arranged under the following
heads — Physical, Moral, and intellectual Educa-
tion.

I. THE PHYSICAL EDUCATIOV OF rNFAN'ra.

The influence of physical education during in
fancy, on the future happiness of the individual,
is much greater, and more extensive in its conse-
quences, than is generally imagined. A proper
attention to food, climate, cleanliness, air and ex-
ercise, may have an important eff'ct, not only
in developing the diff-rent parts of the body, and
strengthi-ning the animal system, but also in
invigorating, and calling forth into exercise, the
powers of the mind. We find, in advanced life,
tliat the state of the body as to health or sickness,
has a poweiful influence on the vigor of the in-
tellectual faculties; and we have reason to be-
lieve that the same connection between the
physical system and the development of mind
exists in the most early period of life. A certain
writer has observed that, " as the manifestations
of mind depend on organization, it is con-
ceivable why even talents and moral feelings
depend on the influence of climate and nourish-
ment."— In throwing out a few cursory remarks
on this subject, I shall attend, in the first place, to
Tlie food of Infants. — As soon as an infant is
ushered into the world. Providence has provided
for it food exactly adapted to its situation. The
,milk of the mother is at first of a thin, watery
consistence, fitted to evacuate the meconium, and
no other substance is found to be so efficacious
for this purpose. Syrups, wines, oils, honey, or
rhubarb, which have been so frequently adminis-
tered to new-born infants, by midwives and
nurses, are repugnant to nature, and are con-
demned, except in extraordinary cases, by every
medical practitioner. Children require very little
food for some time after birlh; and what they
receive should be thin, weak, light, and of a
cooling quality. After a few days the mcther'a
milk becomes thicker and more nutritious, and
should form the principal nourishment of the
child during the first three months. It appears to
be tlie dictate of nature, that every mother ought
to suckle her own child, since she is furnished
with the proper nutriment for this purpose; and
nothing but downright necessity should prevent
her from undertaking the task, or induce her to
have recourse to a substitute. We might tell the
moiiier who, without necessity, throws the care
of her issue upon a stranger, that the admirable
liquor which the God of Nature has provided for
her child, may become mortal to her for want of
a discharge, diffuse itself within, gather and stag-
nate, or, at least, bring on a dangerous fever —
that there is a natural proportion between the
blood that runs in the veins of a child, and the
milk it receives from its mother — that to receive the
caresses, to enjoy the smiles, and to mark the gra-
dual progress of her child toward maturity, would
be more than a compensation for all the fatigue she
would undergo in watching over its infant years
— that the mutual affection of a mother and her
child depends, in no inconsiderable degree, on the
child's spending the period of its infancy in its
mother's arms — and that, when she substitutes
another in her place, the child naturally trans-
fers its affection to the person who performs the
duties of a mother. But, before such co))si<lera-
tions can have much weight with the higher
classes of society, who chiefly indulge in this
practice, their general system of education must
be altered and reformed. The daughters of the
nobility and of opulent citizens, must be more
accustomed to the open air and rural employments,
and their bodies trained to the bearing of burdens,
the endurance of severe heat or intense cold, and

INFLUENCE OF AIR AND LIGHT UPON INFANTS.

33

Vo the resisting of danger and fatigue; — in short,
tliey must te educated like the daughters of
Betliuel and of Laban — the nobles of ancient times
—who did not disdain to "keep their father's
sheep," and to go " to the well of water, with
their pitchers on their shoulders."

As tiie child advances, ho may be gradually
accustomed to other food beside tiie milk of his
mother — beginning with liquids, such as milk
and sugar, broth, boiled biscuits, thin milk pot-
tagOt aiid similar aliments, and then going on to
more solid nutriment, according to the strength
O'f hi3 digestive powers. The younger the child,
Jie less nourishment should be given at one time,
and the oflener repeated; older children may take
more food at once, and at longer intervals. All
high-seasoned, salted, and smoke-dried provisions,
tough, heavy, and fat meats, unripe fruits, sweet-
meats, wines and spirituous liquors, are injurious
to children. Few things are more so than the
common practice of sweetening their food, which
ciitices them to take a greater quantity than is
necessary, and makes them grow fat and bloated.
All cramming of their stomachs, pampering them
with delicate meats, and guzzling of ale and
other fermented liquors, ought to be carefully
avoided. Pure water for drink, plain and simple
food — which will never induce them to take more
than enough — and abstinence from physic, except
in very critical cases, will be found the most ju-
dicious means for preserving and confirming the
health of children, and invigorating their mental
powers.

No loss attention ought to be paid to the air
they Itre-athe, than to the food with which they
are nourished. Pure atmospheric air is indispen-
sable to the existence of every sensitive being,
for v'here it is greatly corrupted or exhausted,
ani'jals languish or die. It may be regarded as a
uai'< ersal medicine and restorative, and as the
principal pabulum of life. Wherever it is confined
for want of circulation, and impregnated with th'»
deleterious fumes of sulphur, putrid substances,
smoke, dunghills, excrements, and other noxious
exhalations, it acts as a slow poison, induces dis-
eases, and gradually undermines the human con-
stitution. Hence the propriety of rearing children
in apartments where the air is clear and dry, un-
contaminated with the steam arising from cooking
victuals, and from ironing linen, and from the
breath and perspiration of persons crowded into a
narrow room — and the necessity of frequently
leading them abroad into the open air, to enjoy
the light of heaven and the refreshing breeze.
Hence the impropriety of crowding two or three
children's beds into one small apartment, — of
covering a child's face when asleep, and wrapping
him up too close in a cradle, by which means he
is forced to breathe the same air over and over
again, all the time he sleeps. In great towns,
where the poorer class of inhabitants live in low,
dirty, confined houses, and narrow lanes, where
pure air has seldom access, the want of whole-
some air often proves destructive to their off-
spring; and those of them who arrive at maturity
are most frequently weak and deformed. In the
Improvements now going forward in society,
it would be of vast importance to the health and
comfort of the laboring classes, that such dwel-
lings were completely demolished, and forever
prevented from again becoming the habitations
of men.

In connection with air, the influence of lijht
ought not to be overlooked. Almost all organ-
ized bodies require the influence of light for their
heulth/and the full development of their parts

and functions. It changes the color of plants
and animals, and tiie complexion of man. As
plants when deprived of light grow pale, and in-
sects confined to dark places remain white, so
those who spend their lives in their closets, or in
gloomy apartments, acquire a pale and yellowish
complexion, and many sickly persons become
worse about sunset, and during the continuance
of night. Hence the propriety of nursing child-
ren iu light and cheerful apartments, and of carry
ing them frequently into the fields, to enjoy the
full influence of the radiant sun. And hence it
follows, that dark habitations, close and narrow
lanes, houses sunk beneath the level of a street,
small windows, somber walls, trees immediately
in the front of dwellings, and whatever intercept
the light of heaven from the habitations of men,
must damp the animal spirits, and prove noxious
to the vigor of the human frame. Whereas, a
full and uninterrupted view of the beauty, the
variety, and the lively colors, of the scenes of
nature, has the happiest effects on the temper,
and a tendency to exercise and invigorate the
powers of the mind; — for there can be little
doubt, that the faculties of the understanding, and
the dispositions of the heart, which characterize
the individual in the future part of his life, ac-
quire their particular bias and distinguishing fea-
tures from the circumstances in which he is
placed, and the objects with which he is sur-
rounded, in early life. — It may not he improper
to add, that, as the eyes of very young children
are delicate, they should not at once be exposed to
a strong light; and, when they advance, as they
are eager to stare at everything, particularly at a
brilliant light, their eyes should be turned so as
to have the object in a straight line before them,
or their backs turned directly to it. To allow
them to look at it sideways, or with one eye,
would teach them a habit of squinting.

Few things are of more importance to the
health and comfort of children than cleanliness.
The functions of the skin are of peculiar impor-
tance in the animal system, and have a great in-
fluence in preserving the health and vigor of the
corporeal frnme. Through its millions of pores,
the insensible perspiration is incessantly flowing,
and more than the one-half of what we eat and
drink is in this way discharged. Hence the dan-
ger which must arise from frequent obstruction
of this e.ssential function, from wet, excrements,
dirty linens, and every kind of uncleanlincss.
From want of attention to this circumstance,
various diseases of the skin, eruptions, catarrhs,
coughs, the itch, obstructions of the first pas-
sages, and even many fatal disorders, derive
their origin. It is injurious both to the health
and the virtue of man; it stupefies the mind, sinks
it into a lethargic state, deprives him of animal
enjoyment, and of the esteem and n gard of
others. Whereas cleanliness promotes both health
and virtue, clears the understanding, encourages
to cheerfulness and activity, prevents many loath-
some maladies, and procures the attachment and
esteem of associates. Hence the incessant and
minute attention which ought to be paid to this
circumstance, by parents and nurses, in the rear-
ing of tlie y^oung. Cleanliness in domestic life,
may be considered as one of the cardinal virtues,
as an essential requisite in the physical education
of children, and, perhaps, the only province of
parental care in which they can never do too much.
The pores of the skin should be kept open by
washing the body, and changing the clothes and
linen whenever they are unclean. In the first
instance, children may be bathed iu lultewatin

84

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

water, and afterward with water of a colder tem-
perature, as tliey are able to bear it. Some parts
of the body, such as tlio interior of the legs, the
folds of the neck, the arm-pits, and the parts be-
hind tlie ears, which are liable to be inflamed,
demand particular attention. The nose, likewise,
should be occasionally washed and thoroughly
cleaned; it having been found, that the unpleasant
smell peculiar to some infants, is owing to the
habitual neglect of cleaning that organ. Great
attention ought to be paid to children in regard to
their evacuations; and everything that may occa-
sion dampness, and every kind of otFensive mat-
ter that might adiicre to the skin, should be speed-
ily removed. As children are liable to p'erspire
more than adults, frequent change of their linen
is a matter of some consequence ; and all pa-
rents who can aflbrd it, should give them clean
dry linen CKcry day. It is as much the duty of
parents to wash and clean their children, as it is
to feed and clothe them ; and children that are
frequently washed'and kept clean, gradually im-
prove in health and vivacity; cleanliness becomes
familiar to them, their spirits are enlivened, and
they grow up virtuous, polite, and happy.

The Russians, with all their ignorance and
rusticity of manners, are said to be superior to
the more refined Englisli, French, and Germans,
both in a delicate sensibility of cleanliness, and
in the practical use of the bath. A foreign gen-
tleman, traveling in Russia, had hired one of the
natives as his groom or postillion. After having
traveled several days together in very sultry
weather, the semi-barbarian, upon his knees, re-
quested his employer to grant him leave of
absence for two or three hours, to refre.sh himself
with the luxury of a bath, which to him was in-
dispensable, and the want of which he had long
felt. — In Russia almost every house has its bath;
and the peasants in that country possess a refine-
ment of sense, with respect to the surface of the
body, with which the most elegant ladies in
other countries seem totally unacquainted. Even
the American Indiafis, who cannot change their
furs so frequently as we can our clothes, put
under their children the dust of rotten wood,
and renew it as often as it becomes damp.

The clothing of children likewise requires some
degree of skill and attention. This, indeed, is so
simple a matter, that it is surprising that persons
living in civilized countries should ever have erred
so egregiously in regard to it; and yet it is a fact,
that many children have been rendered deformed,
and others have lost their lives, by the pride and
folly of their parents in respect to this circum-
stance. The time has not long gone by (if it
have yet passed), since a poor child, as soon as it
breathed the vital air, had as many rollers and
wrappers — sometimes ten feet in length — applied
to its body, as if every bone had been fractured
in the birth; and these were often drawn so tight,
as to gall its tender frame, and even obstruct its
vital organs — a piece of folly so repugnant to
the dictates of nature, that even the most savage
nations never commit it ; and hence, deformed
children are seldom or never found among them.
By the weight and pressure of stays, bandages,
heavy and tight clothes, children, who were well-
proportioned at their birth, have afterward ap-
peared with flat breasts, high shoulders, crooked
spines, and other deformities. For when a child
is cramped in its clothes, it naturally shrinks
from the part that is hurt, and puts its body into
unnatural postures: and every part of it, even the
bones themselves, being soft and flexible, deform-
ity, of some kind or other, is the natural result.

To this cause physicians nave ascribed tbo'nnm^r
ous instances of children dying of convulsions
soon ^fter their birth.

The general rule which reason suggests, in
regard to the clothing of children is — "That
a child have no more clothes than are neces-
sary to keep it warm, and that they be quite easy
for its body." In conformity to this rule, the
dress of children should be simple, clean, light,
and cheap — free, wide, and open, so as neither to
impede the vital functions, nor the free and easy
motions of the body, nor prevent the access of
fresh air, and be easily put on or taken ofT. Tho
following cut exhibits tho smiple dress of a little

girl. — Fins should be used as little as possible, and
the clothes chiefly fastened with strings, which
would prevent tlie occasional scratching of their
tendfer skins, and those alarming cries which so fre-
quently proceed from this cause. Such a light and
simple dress would induce children to live with
less restraint in the society of each other; and
check that sillj' pride, which leads them to ape
the fashions of their superiors, and to value them-
selves on account of the finery of their clothes
During the first months, the head and breast may
be slightly covered; but as soon as the hair is suf-
ficiently long to afford protection, there appears
little necessity for either hats or caps, unless in
seasons of rain or cold. By keeping the breast
and neck uncovered, they acquire more firmness,
are rendered hardier, and less susceptible of being
affected with cold. Beside, a child has really a more
Interesting aspect, when arrayed in the beautiful
simplicity of nature, than when adorned with all
the trappings which art can devise. The follow-
ing anecdote, related. by Herodotus, illustrates the
advantage conrected with a cool regimen of tho
head. "After the battle fought between tho Per-
sians, under Camhyses, and the Egyptians, the
slain of both nations were separated; and upon
examining the heads of the Persians, their skulls
i were found to be so thin and tender, that a small
stone would immediately perforate them ; while,
on the otner hand, the heads of the Egyptians were
so firm, that they could scarcely be fractured by the
largest stones." The cause of this remarkable dif-
ference was attributed to the custom of the Egyp-
tians shaving their heads from earliest infancy,
and going uncovered in all states of the weather;
while tho Persians always kept their heads warm
by wearing heavy turbans.

Attention ought likewise to be paid to the pro-
per covering of the feet. It is scarcely necessary for
children to use shoes before they are a year old ;
or if they do, the soles should be thin and soft.
The form of the human foot is such, that, at the

ON THE CLOTHING OF CHILDREN

35

toes it is broad, at the heel narrow, and the inside
of the foot is longer than the outside — a form
which is evidently intended by Nature to enable
us to stand and walk with firmness and ease. It
IB therefore a dictate of nature, that shoes should
be made in the same form as the feet, and be suffi-
ciently roomy for the toes to move with ease; and
tu order to this, they must be formed upon two
separate lasts, corresponding to the right and the
)eft foot. How shoes came at first to be made
tapering to a point at the toes, almost like a bod-
kin— iiow higli heels became the darling fashion
of the ladies — and how a small foot came to be
reckoned genteel — I pretend not to determine ; but
certainly nothing can be more absurd and prepos-
terous. Such opinions and practices, along with
many others which abound, particularly in the
fashionable world, have a direct tendency to coun-
teract the benevolent intentions of Nature, and
are nothing short of an attempt to arraign the
wisdom of the Creator, in his arranging and pro-
portionating the different parts of the human frame
— as if puny man, by his foolish whims, were
capable of improving the workmanship of Infinite
Intelligence. — The following figures (taken from
Dr. Faust) plainly show the absurdity of the shapes
which have been given to shoes. Fig. 1, shows
the original shape of the sole of the left foot. Fig.
3, shows how the sole of the left shoe ought to be
formed, — and Fig. 2, shows clearly that the shoes
usually worn, and made on one last, cannot cor-
respond to the natural shape of the foot. If they
taper toward a point, the large toe, and some of
the small ones, must be crushed and pressed against
each other, causing pain to the wearer, and produ-
cing corns. The simplest and most accurate mode
of taking the true measure and form of shoes, is,
to place each foot upon a sheet of paper, and then
draw its shape with a pencil, to which two separ-
ate lasts should nearly correspond, after having
ascertained the curve of the upper part of the
foot

3 12

With regard to the clothing of children, in gen-
eral, it is the opinion of Dr. Faust, that, from the
beginning of the third, to the end of the seventh
or eighth year, " their heads and necks must be
free and bare, the body clothed with a white shirt,
and frock with sliort sleeves, the collar of the shirt
to fall back over that of the frock, with the addi-
tion of a woolen frock, to be worn between the
ehirt and the linen Irock, during innter, and that the
feet be covered only with a pair of socks, to be
worn in the shoes." Such a cheap and sim-

Ele dress, If generally adopted, would undoubtedly
e beneficial to mankind in general, and tend to
promote the strength, beauty, and graceful atti-
tudes of children, — and, at the same time, check
the foolisli propensity of parents to indulge their
children in flimsy ornaments and finery, beyond
what their means can afford. At present, child-
ren are frequently muffled up with caps, hats,

bonnets, cravats, pelisses, frills, muffles, gloves,
ribbons, and other paraphernalia, as if they were
to be reared like plants in hotbeds, — so that the
shape and beautiful proportions which Nature has
given them can scarcely be distinguished. I shall
only add, that the dress of children ought to bo
kept thoroughly clean; as dirty clothes not only
gall and fret their tender skins, but tend to produce
disagreeable smells, vermin, and cutaneous dis-
eases; and no mother or nurse, however poor, can
have any valid excuse for allowing her children to
wallow in dirtiness.

We may next offer a remark or two on the sleep
and exercise of children. The exercise of the cor-
poreal faculties is essentially necessary to the
health, the growth, and the vigor of the young.
The desire of exercise is indeed coeval with our
existence, which is plainly indicated in the delight
which children take in beating with a stick, crawl-
ing along a floor, or climbing a stair, as soon as
they are able to make use of their hands and feet.
It is, therefore, the duty of parents to regulate this
natural propensity, and direct it to its proper end.
When children are very young, they may be exer-
cised by carrying them about, giving them a gen-
tle swing, encouraging them to move their hands
and feet, talking to them, alluring them to .smile,
and pointing out everything that may please and
delight their fancy. When they first begin to
walk, the safest method of leading them about, is
by taking hold of both their hands; and when they
fall, they should never be lifted up by one part
only, such as by onehand or one arm, as luxations,
or loosening of the joints, may be occasioned by
this practice. The practice of swinging them in
leading-strings, is sometimes attended with hurtful
consequences. It induces them to throw their bod-
ies forward, and press their whole weight upon
their stomach and breast, by which their breutliing
is obstructed, and their stomach compressed. When
they are able to walk with ease, they should be
encouraged to run about in places where they are
not xposed to danger, to exert their hands and
limbs, and to amuse themselves in the company of
their associates. When they cannot go abroad,
they may be exercised in running along a room
or passage, or in leaping and dancing. A certain
eminent physician used to sa}-, " that he made his
children dance, instead of giving them physic. "
When children fall, or get into any difficulty in
the course of their movements, if they are in no
danger, we should never be forward to express our
condolence, or to run to their assistance; but leave
them to exert their powers, and to scramble tha
best way they can, in order to extricate themselves
from any painful situations in which they may
have been involved. By being too attentive to
them, and appearing too anxious, in such case^
we teach them to be careless of themselves; — by
seeming to regard every trifling accident which
befalls them as a dreadful calamity, we inspire
them with timidity, and prevent them from ac-
quiring manly fortitude.

With regard to the sleep of children, it is uni-
versally admitted, that they require far more than
persons of adult age; and the younger the child,
the more sleep he requires. An adult requires
only about seven hours in the twenty-four; but
very young children require double that number.
However long they may happen to sleep, they
should never be suddenly awakened. It is danger-
ous in the extreme to lull them to sleep by doses
of laudanum, or other soporific medicines, as is
frequently done by mercenarj' and indolent nurses.
In order to induce children to repose, they are gen-
erally rocked in cradles; but there is no absolute

36

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

necessity for resorting to tliis expediont. If tlicy
are constantly kept dry andcL>:ui, and accustomed
to fresh air, and not frequently disturbed, they
will sleep comfortulily and soundly without any
violent 'igitation. . Some of my own children
were never in a cradle, and yet tlu^y were far more
easily managed, in respect to sleeping, and watch-
incf, and other circumstances, than those of them
who were accustomed to it; and many similar
instances, were it expedient, could be brought
forward. But if they are, to be locked in cradles,
it ought to be with the greatest gentleness. The
violence with which children are sometimes rock-
ed, jumbles their brain, and makes them uneasy,
giddy, and stupid, and is cousetiuently injurious,
both to body and minil. If the practice of rock-
ing, however, were altogether laid aside, it would
be a great relief to mothers and nurses, and afford
Uicm more uninterrapled leisiiie, for the perform-
ance of other domestic employments. — As it is
viewed by some to be hurtful and dangerous for
mothers to fake their infants with them to bed, —
in Italy, mothers who do so, use a machine which
protects them from all injury and danger. It is
called nrci/ccifl, and is 3 feet ^ inches long, and the
head-board, 14 inches broad and 13 inches high.

I shall only observe further, on the subject of
physical education, — that, when children begin
to lisp out a few words, or syllables, great care
ought to he taken to give them an accurate and dis-
tinct pronunciation. Every sound we wish them
to pronounce, should be slowly and distinctly utter-
ed before them, beginning with single sounds, and
proceeding to easy words; and they should never
be taught any pronunciation which they will after-
ward be under the necessity of unlearning. The
pleasure we feel at first hearing tliem aim at the
use of language, is apt to dispose us to listen with
such attention, as to relieve them from the neces-
sity of acquiring a distinct and open articulation.
The consequence is, that they get into a rapid,
indistinct, and hesitating mode of speaking, w^hich
is afterw^ard very difficult, and sometimes impos-
sible to correct. Would we teach them a plain
and distinct articuhition, we should uniformly
speak with distinctness and accuracy in their
presence; and refuse to answer tiieir requests,
unless they are expressed with tlie greatest preci-
sion and accuracy which their organs of articula-
tion will permit. Attention to this circumstance
would smooth the vi'ay to accurate and early
reading, and prevent much trouble both to teacher
and scholar, when the child commences a regu-
lar train of instruction.

I have been induced to offer these few hints on
this subject, from a strong conviction, that the
■physical education of children is intimately con-
nected with the development of mind — and that
whatever tends to promote health, and to strength-
en the animal frame, will also tend to invigorate
the soul, and call forth into exercise its energies
and powers.

II. ON THE SIORAL IMSTRUCTIOX OF INFANTS.

This is a subject of peculiar importance, to
which tlie attention of every parent ought to be
early and thoroughly directed. No duties are
generally more trifled with than those which relate
to the moral tuition of infants; and even sensible
and pious parents too frequently err on this point,
and lay the foundation of many bitter regrets and
perplexities in after life, both to themselves unri
to their offspring. On the mode in which a child
is trained, during the two or three first years
of ita existence, will, in a great measure, depend

the comfort of its parents, and its ow n happi-
ness during the succeeding periods of its exi»*
tence.

The first and most important rule on this sub-
ject, and vk^hich may be considered as the founda-
tion of all the rest, is — that an absolute and entire
authority over the child, should, as early as jwssibh
be established. Ey authority I mean, a certain air
and ascendant, or such a mode of conducting our-
selves toward children, as shall infallibly secure
obedience. This authority is to be obtained nei-
ther by age nor stature — by tlie tone of the voice,
nor by threatening language; but by an even, firm,
moderate disposition of mind — which is always
master of itself — which is guided only by leasoD
— and never acts under the impulse of mere fancy
or angry passions. Ifwe wish such authority to
be absolute and complete — and nothing short of
tliis ought to be our aim — we must endeavor to
acquire this ascendency over the young at a very
early perind of their lives. Children at a very early
age are capable of reasoning, of comparing dif-
ferent objects with each other, and of drawing
conclusions from them. I have seen a child of
eight months turn round and point at a portrait,
when the name of the individual whom it repre-
sented v^as announced; and another, not much
older, point first to the original and then to the
painting, inuicating its perception of the resem-
blance of the one to the other. And as the ration
al and perceptive powers soon begin to operate, so
we find that stubbornness, obstinacy, anger, and a
spirit of independence, display themselves at a
very early period, even when the child is sucking
its mother's breast. "What mean those cries,
(says Augustine), those tears, the threatening ges-
ture of the eyes, sparkling with rage, in an infant,
when- resolved to gain his point, with all his force,
or inflamed with jealousy against one another?
Though its infantine members are weak and im-
becile, its passions are sometimes strong and fu-
rious. I have seen a child burning with jealousy
He could not yet utter a word, but, with a pate
countenance, could cast a furious look at another
child who was sucking with him at tho same
breast."

These circumstances clearly point oat the pe-
riod for subduing the bad inclinations of children,
and training them to submission and obedience.
From the age of ten or twelve months, and earlier
if possible, eveiy parent ought to commence tho
establishment of authority over his children; foi
the longer it is delayed after this period, the more
difficult it will be to bring them under complete
control. This authority is to be acquired — not
by passionately chiding and beating children at
an early age — but by accustoming them to per-
ceive ?/(«< our icill must always prevail over theirs,
and in no instance allowing them to gain an as-
cendency, or to counteract a command when it
has once been given. Dr. Witherspoon recom-
mends the following plan to accustom cliildren to
obedience: — "As soon as they begin to show their
inclination by desire or aversion, let siiigle in-
stances be chosen, now and then (not too fre-
quently), to contradict them. For example, if a
child shows a desire to have anything in his han3
that he sees, or has anything in his hand with
which he is delighted, let the parent take it from
him; and when he does so, let no consideration
whatever make him restore it at that time. Then,
at a considerable inten'al, perhaps a wli(de day ia
liltle enough, let the same thing be repeated. In
the meantime, it must be carefully observed, that
no attempt should he made to contradict the child
in the intervals. Not the least :ppearauce of

IMPORTANCE OF ACQJIRING AUTHORITY.

37

opposition, if possible, should be found between the
will of the jiarent and that of the ciiild, except in
those chosen cases when the pureut must always
prevail. Neither mother nor nurse should ever
presume to condole with the child, or show any
signs of displeasure at his being crossed; but, on
the contrary, give every mark of approbation.
Tiiis e.xperiinent, frequently repeated, will in a
little time so perfectly habituate the ciiild to
yield to the parent whenever he interferes, that he
will make no opposition. I can assure you from
experience, having literally practiced this metiiod
myself, that I never had a child of twelve months
old but would suffer me to take anything from him
or her, without the least mark of anger or dissatis-
faction, while they would not suffer any other to
do so without the bitterest complaints."

Such experiments, if properly conducted, would
gradually produce in children habits of obedience;
but tiiey require to be managed with judgment and
prudence, and gradually extended from one thing
to another, until absolute submission is produced;
care, however, being taken that tiie child lie not mi-
necessarilij contradicted or irritated. The Rev.
i\Ir. Cecil, in some of his writings, relates an ex-
periment of this kind which he tried on liis own
daughter, a little girl of about three or four years old.
She was standing one day before tlie fire, amusing
herself with a string of beads, with wiiich she ap-
peared to be highly delighted. Her father ap-
proached her, and said, "What is this you are
playing witb, my little dear?" " My beads, papa."
" Show me these beads, my dear." She at once
handed them to her father, who immediately threw
them into the fire. " Now," said he, "let them
remain there." She immediately began to cry.
•' Yon must not cry, my dear, but be quite con-
tented." She then sat down on the floor, and
amused herself with some other toys. About two
or three days after tiiis, he purchased Hnotherstring
of beads much more valuable and brilliant, which
he i-mmediately presented to her. She was much
delighted with the appearance of the new set of
beads. "Now," said her father "I make a pres-
ent of these to you, because you was a good girl,
and gave me your beads when I asked them."
She felt, in this case, that obedience and submis-
sion to her parent were attended with happy
etFects, and would be disposed, in her future con-
duct, to rely on his wisdom and affection.* Chil-
dren trained in this way, with firmness and affec-
tion, soon become ha|)py in themselves, and a
comfort to their parents; and those scoldings,
contentions, and sounds of discord, so frequently
heard in the family mansion, entirely prevented.

In order to establish com|)lete authority, and
secure obedience, the following rule must be in-
variably acted upon — that vo coinmand, eilher by
woid, look, or (/estiire, should he (jiven, which is not
intended to be enforced and obeyed. It is the rock
on which most parents split, in infantile educa-
tion, that, while they are almost incessantly giv-
ing commands to their children, they are not
careful to see that they are punctually obeyed;
and seem to consider the occasional violation of
their injunctions, as a very trivial fault, or as a
matter of course. There is no practice more com-
mon than this, and none more ruinous to the au-
thority of parents, and to the best interest-^ of
their ofispring. When a child is accusto.med, by

* This relation is not taken directly from Mr. Cecil's v.ri-
tincs. Ifl riv;ollect right, it was intenileil to illustrnle the
r.nt'ure offait/i: hat it may likewise exeinplify the l)>.'neflts
wl.ioh flow from unreserved obedience to the comijrinds of
an ali'ectionale parea'.

frequent repetitions, to counteract the will of his
l)arent, a habit of insubordination is gradually in
duced, which sometimes grows to such a hight,
that neither entreaties, nor threats, nor corporeal
punishment, are sufficient to counteract its ten-
dencies; and a sure foundation is laid for many
future perplexities and sorrov/s. The rule, there-
fore, should be absolute — that every parental
command ought to bo enforced. And, in order
to this, it is requisite that every command be rea-
sonable— that a compliance with it produce no
unnecessary pain or trouble to the child — that it be
expressed in the words of kindness and afftction —
and that it ought never to bo delivered in a spirit
of passion or resentment. Reproof or correction
given in a rage, and with words of fury, is ahvaj's
considered as the effect of weakness and of the
want of self-command, and uniformly frustrates
the purpose it was intended to subsei-ve. " I have
heard," says Dr. Witherspoon, "some persona
often say, that they cannot correct their children
unless they are angry; to whom I have usually
answered, ' Then you ought not to correct them
at all.' Every one would be sensible, that for a
magistrate to discover an intemperate rage in pro-
nouncing sentence against a criminal, would bo
highly indecent; and ought not parents to punish
their children in the same dispassionate man-
ner?"

One of the greatest obstacles in the way of ac-
quiring complete authority, is the leant of fortitude
and perseverance, especially on the part of the mo-
ther. She is sometimes oppressed with anxieties
and difficulties, busied with domestic affair.s, or
perhaps has a young infant at the breast, that re-
quires her chief attention, or strangers may have
paid avisit to the family. Her older child becomes
restless and fretful, and runs through the dwelling
disturbing every one with his cries. She tries to
coax him with flattering promises; but it is of no
avail. He is perhaps crying for something which
she. does not think proper to gi\-3. She at length
scolds and threatens, and attempts to strike, which
generally makes the child redouble his cries.
Wearied out, at length, with his cries and tears,
and anxious to attend to some necessary affairs,
she allows herself to be vanquished, and submits
to his desires. Sugar, jellies, or plumcakes, are
supplied to pamper his depraved appetite, and put
an end to his crying; and, being exhausted with
screaming, in a short time he drops asleep. The
same proci;ss is repeated, when similar circum-
stances occur. Now, it is admitted that there is
a difficulty in such cases; but it is a difiiculty which
must be overcome, if we would not become slaves
to our children, and render them disobedient and
unhappy through life. Were a mother, for a few
days,"or weeks at most, to make a strong effort,
an<i to sacrifice for a little her own ease, and even
some urg'Mit business, and never flinch from the
object until complete submission be accomplished,
she would soon gain the requisite ascendency;
and, having acquired it, it would save her from a
multitude of troubles and perplexities, which must
otherwise be felt during succeeding years — i)reveut
the necessity of scolding, threatening, and whipping
— and lay a sure foundation for domestic harmony
and filial affection. But the longer she delays, the
more diflicult it will be to acquire the requisite as-
cendency; and the mother who trifles with this
important duty, from day to day, lays the founda-
tion of many bitter regrets and- self-reproaches —
renders her children curses instead of blessings —
and will, sooner or later, feel the effects of her
misconduct, and behold her sin in her punish-
meut

u

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

The violation of parental anthority, especially
amonrf the eliildren of tlic lower ranks, is so com-
mon, that it ceases to excite wonder or surprise.
One can scarcely walk the streets witliout seeing
parentnl authority disregarded. A father is beheld
with a whip or a stick in his hand,driving home his
Btubborn son, as if he were " a bullock unaccus-
tomed to the yoke" — and a motiier running after
her child, with looks of fury and words of execra-
tion, seizing him bv the shoulders, beating him
with her fists, and dragging him along like a piece
of lumber, while the little urchin is resisting with
all his might and bellowing like an ox. A short
time ago, I was passing along the suburb of a
large town, when I beheld a child of about three
years old amusing himself on the footpath before
his dwelling. His mother approached the thresh-
old, and call'-d him in. " Come awa' Jamie, to
the house, it's a cauld day." Jamie paid no atten-
tion to the command, biit moved with the utmost
deliberation to a greater distance. " Come awa',"
says his mother a second time, "and I'll gie ye
some good thing." James, however, marched on
to a still greater distance. " Come back, Jamie,"
rejoined the mother, " and I'll giB ye an apple."
James paused for a moment, and looked back
with a kind of leer; but, recollecting, perhaps,
that his mother had often promised, and failed in
performing her promises, he set off with more
speed than iTefore. His mother now became vo-
ciferous, and bawled out, " Come back, you little
villain, or I'll whip you, as sure's I'm alive."
James, however, who appeared to have known his
mother better than she knew herself, still marched
on. The foolish mother now became furious,
rushed after the child, and dragged him home
like a squeaking pig, lamenting that her children
were so stubborn and disobedient; and forgetting,
in the meantime, that she herself was their in-
structor, and the cause of their obstinacy and dis-
obedience. Children brought up in this manner
are not only unhappy in themselves, but not un-
frequently become pests in society, and particu-
larly to the public instructors of youth, vfho find
it extremely difficult, and sometimes i>ext to im-
possible, to bring them under control and subordi-
nation to scholastic order and discipline — without
which their progress in learning cannot be pro-
moted.

Some children, even in the same family, are
pliant and of tender feelings, and are easily brought
under subjection by a judicious parent; while
others are naturally proud, self-willed and obsti-
nate. But even in the worst supposable cases, it
is quite practicable, by firmness and prudent man-
agement, to bring the most stubborn under sub-
jection. This may be illustrated from the follow-
ing fact, extracted from an excellent little work,
entitled " Tlio Mother at Home, or the Principles
of Maternal Duty familiarly Illustrated; by the
Rev. John S. C. Abbot, of Worcester, America."*

• Wliile I was writing the preceding paragraphs, this in-
teresting little volume was put into my hands, — a volume
which I wonld strongly recommend to the perusal of every
parent. Its style is simple and perspicuous, its sentiments
rational and pious, and are uniformly illustrated with a va-
riety of appropriate examples taken from real life — so that the
most ignorant and illiterate may easily enter into all the
views and representations of the author, and feel their pro-
priety and force. Were the principles inculcated in this
small volume universally recofrnized and acted upon, the as-
pect of the moral world would, ere long, undergo an important
change, and a new generation would soon spring up, to reno-
vate the world, and to hail the commencement of the millen-
nial era. The amiable author himself appears to be an affec-
tionate and "Grateful Son;" for instead of attempting to
curry favor with the great, by dedicating his work to the
Earl of F. the Duchess of G., or the President of the United

" A gentleman, a few years since, sitting by Ma
fireside one evening, with his family around him,
took the spelling-book, and called upon one of his
little sons to come and read. John was about four
years old. He knew all the letters of the alpha-
bet jjerfectlj^ but happened at that moment to b«
rather in a sullen humor, and was not at all dis-
posed to gratify his father. Very reluctantly he
came as he was bid; but when his father pointed
to the first letter of the alphabet, and said, 'What
letter is that, John?' he could get no answer
John looked upon the book sulky and silent
'My son,' said the father pleasantly, 'you know
the letter A.' 'I cannot say A,' said John. You
must,' said the father in a serious and decided
tone; 'what letter is that?' John refused to answer.
The contest was now fairly cominenced. John
was willful, and determined thathe wouldnot read.
His father knew that it would be ruinous to his
son to allow him to conquer; he felt that he must
at all hazards subdue hiin. He took him into an-
other room, and punished him. He then returned
and again showed John the letter; but John still
refused to name it. The father again retired with
his son, and punished him more severely. But it
was unavailing. The stubborn child still refused
to name the letter; and when told that it was A,
declared thathe would not say A. Again the fa-
ther inflicted punishment as severely as he dared
to do it, and still the child, with his whole frame
in agitation, refused to yield. The father was
suffering with most intense solicitude. He regret-
ted exceedingly that he had been drawn into the
contest. He had already punished his child with
a severity v\'hich he feared to exceed; and yet the
willful sufferer stood before him,sobbingand trem-
bling, but apparently as unyielding as a rock. I
haVe often heard that parent mention the acute-
ness of his feelings at that moment; his heart was?
bleeding at the pain which he had been compelled
to inflict upon his son. He knew that the ques-
tion was now to be settled, who should be master;
and after his son had withstood so long and so
much, he greatly feared the result. The mother
sat bj', suffering of course most acutely, but per-
fectly satisfied that it was their duty to subdue
the child, and that, in such a trying hour, a mo-
ther's feclinsfs must not interfere. With a heavy
heart, the father again took the hand of his son,
to lead him out of the room for further punishment ;
hut, to his inconceivable joy, the child shrunk
from enduring any more suffering, and cried, 'Fa-
ther, I'll tell the letter.' The father, with feelings
not easily conceived, took the book and pointed to
the letter. 'A,' said John distinctly and fully.
'And what is that?' said the fatherj pointing to
the next letter. 'B,' said John. 'And what is
that?' 'C,' he continued. 'And what is that?'
pointing again to the first letter. 'A,' said the now
humbled child. 'Now carry the book to your mo-
ther, and tell her what the letter is.' 'What letter
is that, my son?' said his mother. 'A,' said John.
He was evidently subdued. The rest of the child-
ren were sitting by, and they saw the contest, and
they saw where was the victory; and John learned
a lesson which he never forgot: he learned never
again to wage such an unequal warfare — he learned
that it was the safest and happiest course for
him to obey."

The conduct of the parent, in this case, so far

States, he very appropriately dedicates it to his "Father and
.Mother," of Whom he speaks with affectionate regard. The
volume is very neatly got up, contains above 140 pages, pretty
closely printed, and is sold, neatly bound, for only one shil-
ling; so that it is within tne reach of the poorest family

IMPORTANCE OF ADHERENCE TO TRUTH.

89

from beingf branded with harshness or cruelly,
was the dictate of mercy and love. Had the son
been permitted to obtain the mastery, it might
not only have proved his ruin tlirongh life, but
have produced a spirit of insubordination ainon^
the other branches of the family. Tlie only fault
which, perhaps, may be attributed to the father,
in the present instance, was his insisting^ on his
son pointing out the letters when liP happened
to be in "« sullen humor.'''' But, after the contest
was commenced, it was indispensable to the hap-
piness and order of the family, that victory should
1)6 obtained on the part of the parent. And this
circumstance suggests the following rule, — that.
When children happen to be in a fretful or sulky
humor, any disayreeahle command or injunction
that is not indispensable, ought to be avoided; for it
is best to prevent collisions of this kind, at a
time when children are disposed to " summon up
all their energies to disobey."

Another important maxim in infantile instruc-
tion is, that nothing he told or represented to chil-
dren but what is strictly accordant with truth.
This maxim is violated in thousands of instances
by mothers and nurses, to the manifest injury of
the moral principles and the intellectual powers
of the young. The system of nature is fre-
quently misrepresented, and even caricatured,
when its objects are pointed out to children;
qualities are ascribed to them which they do not
possess; their real properties are concealed, and
even imaginary invisible beings, which have no
existence in the universe, are attempted to be ex-
hibited to their iraaginHtion. The moon is some-
times represented as within reach of the child's
grasp, when he is anxiously desired to take hold
of it; a table or a chair is represented as an ani-
mated being, when he is desired to strike it in re-
venge, after having knocked his head against it;
a dog or a cat is represented as devoid of feeling,
when he is encouraged to beat or whip these ani-
mals for his amusement; certain animated beings
are represented as a nuisance in creation, when a
boy is permitted to tear asunder the legs and
wings of flips, or directed to crush to death every
worm or beetle that comes in his way; and the
shades of night are exhibited as peopled with
spectere, when a child is threatened with a visit
of a frightful hobgoblin from a dark apartment.
In these and similar instances, not only is the
understanding bewildered and pers'erted, but the
moral powers are corrupted; — falsehood, deceit, a
revengeful disposition, cruelty toward the lower
animals, superstitions opinions and vain alarms,
are indirectly fostered in the youthful mind.
Even the pictorial representations which are ex-
hibited to children in their toy-books, too fre-
quently partake of this character. The sun and
moon are represented with human faces, as if
they were small and insignificant objects, and
partook of the nature of animated beings. Pea-
cocks and cranes, foxes and squirrels, cats and
mice, are represented in the attitude of speaking
and of holding conversation with each other, as
If they were rational beings endowed with the
faculty of speech. A monkey is represented as
riding on a sow, and an old woman mounted on a
broom, as directing her course through the air to
the moon. Even when real objects are intended
to be depicted, such as a horse, an elephant, or a
lion, they are often surrounded and interwoven
with other extraneous objects, so that the prin-
cipil figure intended to be exhibited can scarcely
be distinguished. Hence, most of our books ui-
tended for the nursery, convey little else than
vague and distorted views of the objects of nature

and the scenes of human life, and are nothing
short of trifling with the ideas that ought to bo
distinctly exhibited to the infant mind.* If chil-
dren were permitted to imbibe no ideas but what
are true, or accordant with the existing scenes of
nature, their progress in useful information would
be rapid and sure, and its acquisition easy and
pleasant. But, as matters now stand, one of the
most diflicult parts of education consists in coun-
teractinrj the iumioral principles and erroneous
ideas which have been impressed upon the mind
in early life — whi'^h, in many cases, requires ar-
duous and long-continued efforts.

It has a still more pernicious effect on the
moral principles of the young, when false asser-
tions and representations are made to them in re-
ference to facts and circumstances of a moral na-
ture. How common is it, for example, for a
mother to cajole a child into obedience by pro-
mising him an article or a gratuity which she has
no intention of bestowing, or which, perhaps, it is
out of her power to bestow! She is about to take
a walk, or to pay a visit, and little Tom wishes to
go. along with her. This proposal his mother
thinks proper to refuse. Tom begins a-crying,
and attempts to assail his mother by his tears.
She tries to cajole him, by telling him she will
bring home to him apples and oranges, a little
coach and four, a fiddle, a drum, or a fine new
jacket. Little Tom, perhaps, is somewhat ap-
peased by such flattering promises. His mother
leaves home, pays her visit and returns, but for-
gets her promises, as she never intended to fulfill
them. The same* thing is frequently repeated,
until at length the child learns that no dependence
is to be placed on the word of his parent. There
can scarcely be a more direct way than this of
training children to prevarication and falsehood,
and exciting them to view with contempt their
parents and guardians. — Such deceptions are very
commonly attempted, when children are urged to
take nauseous medicines for the recovery of their
health. The loathsome drug is represented aa
pleasant, or in nowise unpalatable, until the child
tastes it, and finding it offensive to his palate, spits
it out, and absolutely refuses to take any more of
the draught— ^while, at the same time, he clearly
perceives that he has been deceived. Mr. Abbot
relates the following story, illustrative of this
point: — " A mother was once trying to persuade
her little son to take some medicine. The medi-
cine WHS very unpalatable; and she, to induce
hiui to ttike it, declared it did not taste bad. He
did not believe her. He knew, by sad experience,
that her word was not to be trusted. A gentle-
man and a friend who was present took the spoon
an<l said, ' James, this is medicine, and it tastes
badly. I should not like to take it, but I would,
if necossarj-. You have courage enough to swa.-
low something which does not taste good, have
you n»t?' ' Yes,' said James, looking a little less

• A considerable degree of knowledge may be commnni-
cated to the young by means of pictorial exhibitions; bat
in order to this, they must be of a difFerent description from
what is found in most of our school-books and publications
intended for the nursery. Instead of caricatures, and jidis-
tinct groups of objects unnaturally huddled together, every
object ought to be neatly, vividly ,"and accurately ensraved,
and the principal figures well defined and detached from
mere adventitious accompaniments; and, if possible colored
after nature. The best little books and figures of this de-
scription I have seen, are most of those published by Darton
and Harvey, London, entitled " Instructive Hints," " Th«
prize for Good Children," "Little Truths, for the Instruc-
tion of Children," &c. &c., in which the scenes of human
life are neatly and accurately exhibited, and accompanied
with many instructive lessotis adapted to the capacitiei
iBf vooth.

40

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

sulky, 'but that is vcrj' bud indeed.' 'I know it,'
Baid the gentleman, ' I presume you never tasted
anything nnicli worse.' The gentleman tiien
tasted of the medicine himself, and said, ' It is
very unpleasant. But now let us see if you have
not resolution enough to take it, bad as it is.' The
boy hesitatingly took the spoon. ' It is bad,' said
the gentleman, ' but tlic best way is to summon
all your resolution, and down with it at once, like
a man.' James made, in reality, a great effort for
a child, and swallowed the dose. And whom will
tliis child most respect, his deceitful mother, or
the honest-dealing stranger? And whom will he
hereafter most readily believe? It ought, how-
ever, to be remarked, that, had the child been pro-
perl}' governed, he would, at once, and without a
murmur, have taken what his mother presented."

He'nce the following practical rules may be de-
duced:— Never attempt in any instance to deceive
Vie young. How can a parent, with any consis-
tency or hope of success, inculcate upon a cjiild,
that, "it is wicked to tell a falsehood, "when the
child perceives his parent setting before him,
in his own conduct, an example of this vice?
Such conduct necessarily leads a child to dis-
trust his parents, to despise them in his heart,
and to practice himself the same arts of decep-
tion.— Never make a promise to a child tchich is
not intended to be punctually performed; — and —
Never threaten a punishment which is not intended
to be injiicted. Children have better memories in
regard to these things than what we are apt to
suspect, and they draw their conclusions, and act
accordingly. A proper consideration of these
things will point out the propriety of beinc/ very
cautious and circumspect as to what u-e promise
and ichat we threaten in respect to the young, — if
we sincerely wisli them to respect truth, and be
submissive to their superiors and instructors.

Another rule to be attended to in infant educa-
tion, is, that — we should beware of indulging the
habit of incessantly finding fault with children.
The same principles and feelings which operate
on adult minds are generally found to affect, in a
similar manner, the minds of the j'oung. When
a man is continually found fault with, in every
operation he performs — when his most minute de-
viations from accuracy are censured and exaggera-
ted, and his prominent excellencies overlooked,
and refused their due meed of praise, he becomes
disheartened in his pursuits, and feels little stimu-
lus to improvement; wliereas, the bestowment of
deserved approbation animates the mind, and ex-
cites to more assiduous exertions. In like manner,
children are discouraged in tlieir aims to please
their parents and guardians, when fault is found
with almost everything they do; but there is
nothing th-\t tends more lo cheer and animate the
mind of a child, and to produce a desire of pleas-
ing his parents, than the hope of receiving the
due reward of his attentions, and the smile and
approbation of those whom he is taught to love
and obey. Many little irregularities in the con-
duct of children, if they be not directly vicious,
or acts of disobedience, must be overlooked; or if
they are reproved, it should be as seldom as possi-
ble, and with gentleness and affection. We should
always be more ready to express approbation, and
to reward good conduct, than to chide and frown
at 3very trivial fault that may be committed
through thoughtlessness and inattention. And it
is surely more delightful to the heart of an affec-
tionate parent to have his children excited to good
conduct from the desire of pleasing and the hope
of reward, than merely from a fear of offending.
But when children are almost iuce^santly scolde^^

— when, after endeavoring to do the best they
can, they are told that they never do anything
right — that they are stupid asses — that they will
never be made to learn — that they are continually
giving us trouble and vexation — that they are
like no other children, and that we will give over
attempting to teach them, — such disheartening
remonstrances, when daily repeated, tend to chill
the susceptible hearts of the young, to sour their
dispositions, and to render them indifferent to
making improvement either in knowledge or
virtue. On the other hand, nothing tends more
to promote filial affection, cheerful obedience, a
spirit of improvement, and to cherish the best
feelings of the human heart, than the prospect of
well-merited approbation, and the hope of re-
ward.

Every child should be made to see and feel the
natural consequences of his conduct, whether good
or had: — and the punishments and rewards he
receives should be of such a nature as to make
him perceive the unhappy tendency of thought-
less and obstinate tempers, and the happiness'
which invariably results from obedient submis-
sion, and the exercise of amiable dispositions.
There are certain natural and moral laws which
cannot be infringed by any one without his feel-
ing the consequences of their violation; and this
holds true in the case of children, as well as in
that of adults. When a child rushes heedlessly
into a room, without looking before him, he ia
almost certain of getting a fall, or knocking his
head against a table. When he climbs on the
back of a chair, when he approaches too near the
grate, amuses himself with a firebrand, or handles
without caution, knives and forks — he is certain,
sooner or later, by various pains and accidents, to
feel the consequences of his conduct; and in such
cases he should be made distinctly to perceive th«
connection between his fault and his punish-
ment.

But, in the next place, although we should be-
ware of constantly finding fault with children,
ive must carefully guard against everything that
migld excite them to vanity and self-conceit. We
encourage such vicious propensities, when we
expatiate on their good qualities to visitors, and
praise them for the excellent things they have
said or done, while they themselves are standing by,
and eagerly listening to the conversation. At
such times we are apt to forget, that they are
paying strict attention to everything tiiat is said,
and drinking in with pleasure the flattering ex-
pressions bestowed upon them. One should never
speak in the presence of children about anything
which he does not wish them to know, if they are
above fifteen or twenty months old. It is amaz-
ing how soon children become acquainted w'th
the meaning of language, even before they are
capable of expressing their ideas in words, or en-
tering upon a regular conversation. "A little
child," says Mr. Abbot, " creeping upon the floor,
and who could not articulate a single word, was
requested to carry a piece of paper across the room,
and put it in a chair. The child perfectly com-
prehended the direction, and crept across the
room, and did as he was told. An experiment or
two of this kind will satisfy any one how far a
child's mind is in advance of his power to express
his ideas; and yet when a child is three or four
years old, parents will relate in their presence
shrewd things which they have said and done, and
sometimes even their acts of disobedience will be
mentioned with a smile!" — .Another circu-nstanco
by which pride and self-conceit are excited in the
breasts of the young, is, the conduct of parents

VANITY SHOULD BE CO [JNTER ACTED.

41

in exhibiting the acquirements of tlieir children
to strangers, and to almost every visitor that hap-
pens to call. Little Ann has been taught to re-
peat by rote a few verses of a psalm or hymn,
and Andrew, a liltle more advanced in years, has
learned Sempronius' "Speech for War," or a
piece of an old play. Although they know no-
thing of the meaning of the pieces they liave
committed to memory, and cannot perhaps, an-
nex a single idea to the words they pronounce,
yet tiieir mamma is so enraptured with their at-
tainments, that when any visitors happen to call,
or a party is assembled, she introduces them to the
company, and encourages theiii to spout in their
presence, sometimes to their no small disgust and
annoyance. Of course every one pats them on the
head, and praises them for the exhibition they
have made, while they eagerly catch the words
of approbation, to nurse tlieir latent vanity and
self-conceit. Such exhibitions, when frequently
repeated, cannot but have an injurious effect on
the youthful mind. Pride and self-conceit, how-
ever common in society, are so odious, and so in-
consistent with the character and circumstances
of man, that instead of fostering such unamiable
principles, every exertion should be made to check
their growth, and counteract their influence. And
modesty and humility are so amiable, and so con-
genial to beings so ignorant and depraved as man,
— who is but an atom in creation, and stands near
the lowest point of the scale of intellectual ex-
istence— that everything ought to be carefully
guarded against that would prevent their culture,
and every mean used which has a tendency to
cherish and promote them. I do not mean to
insinuate, that it is improper, in every instance,
to exhibit the attainments of children ; but it
should be done with judgment and caution, so
that it may produce no immoral effects, or be the
means of adding to the impudence and self-con-
ceit which too much abound in the world. The
practice of teaching children to repeat, like par-
rots, what they do not understand, ouglit to bo
entirely discarded. The best exhibition of a
child's attainments would be, to malie liiin read a
passage from any of his toy-books, and give the
meaning of the words, and an account of the
facts or sentiments it contains.

To the rules on this subject, already stated,
may be added the following: — Never attempt to
frigJden children to their duty by presenting to their
fancy terrific objects, and exciting imaginary
alarms. This rule is violated, when frightful
hobgoblins are represented as liavingbcen seen in
darkness, and during night, and when foolish
tales of fairies, witches, and apparitions, are
gravely related to children. And, when their
minds are thus stuffed with confuseil ideas of im-
aginary objects, they are afterward frightened
into obedience by the terror of some of these
visionary beings suddenly making their appear-
ance. Darkness is thus associated with terrific
phantoms, and children are sometimes thrust into
dark and narrow rooms, to make them cease their
crying, or to frighten them into obedience. It is
not uncommon to hear nurses, and even foolish
mothers, threatening to send for the " black tnan,"
with cloven feet, and horns on his head — to cut
off their children's heads, to toss them out of a
window, or to send them to the black-hole. Such
a mode of frightening children into obedience,
not only lays the foundation of superstitious no-
tions, and renders them afterward cowards in the
dark, but is sometimes attended with the most
tragical effects. An English writer, says Mr.
Abbot, gives an account of two instances in which

fatal consequences attended the strong excitement
of fear. lie says, "I knew in Phikul(>l])hia a
child, as fine and as sprightly, and as intelligent a
child as ever was born, made an idiot for life, by
being, when about three years old, shut into a
dark closet by a maid-servant, in order to terrify
it into silence. The thoughtless creature first
menaced it with sending it 'to the bad place,' as
the phrase is; and at last, to reduce it to silence,
put into the closet, shut the door, and went out
of the room. She went back in a few minutes,
and found the child in a fit. It recovered from
that, but was for life an idiot." — It is not long
since we read in the newspapers of a child being
killed by being thus frightened. The parents had
gone out to what is called an evening party. The
servants had their party at home, and the mis-
tress, who, by some unexpected accident, had
been brought home at an early hour, finding the
parlor full of conjpany, ran up stairs to see her
child; who was about two or three years old. She
found it with its eyes open, but fixed; touching
it, she found it inanimate. The doctor was sent
for in vain; it was quite dead. The maid affected
to know nothing of the cause; but some one of
the persons assembled discovered, pinned up to
the curtains of the bed, a horrid figure, made up
partly of a frightful mask! This, as the wretched
girl confessed, had been done to keep the child
quiet, while she was with her company below
It is surely unnecessary to add more, in order to
deter parents and sei-vants from practices fraught
with such dangerous and appalling consequences.
Let children be inspired both with ])hysical and
moral courage. Lot them be taught, that there
is nothing more frightful in the dark than in the
light of day, ' except the danger of knocking
against any object we do not perceive. Let them
be accustomed, at times, to be in the dark, both
in company and alone, in the house, and in the
open air, when there is no danger of meeting
with accidents. Let them be taught, above all
things, to'Iove God and fear him; and that they
need not be greatly alarmed at whatever may
befall them from any other quarter.

In practicing the rules now laid down, and in
every branch of domestic education, it is a matter
of the first importance, that fathers and mothers,
nurses and servants, should act in harmony in the
commands and instructions given to children.
When a foolish mother, from a mistaken affection,
indulges her children in their vicious humors and
impertinent whims, and is careless whether or not
parental authority be respected — it is next to im-
possible for a father, however judicious his plans,
to maintain domestic order and autiiority, and to
"train up his children in the way they should
go." The altercations which not unfrequcntly
happen between parents, as to the mode of man-
aging their offspring, and that, too, in the pres-
ence of their children, subvert the very founda-
tions of family government, and endanger the
best interests of those whom they profess to hold
dear. Little John has, perhaps, been for some-
time in a sulky humor; he has struck his sittei,
torn her frock, and tossed her doll into the fire,
and obstinately refused to comply with some
parental commands. His father wishes to cor-
rect him for his conduct, which his mother
en(ieavors to prevent. Punishment, however,. is
inflicted corresponding to the crime; but the silly
mother, instead of going hand in hand with her
husband in maintaining family order, — exclaims
against the severity of the correction, and, taking
the child iu her arms, caresses him, and condoles
with him on account of the pain he has suffered

42

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

— ^plainly indicatinnr to the child that his father
had acted toward him witli cruelty and injustice.
Wherever such conduct frequently recurs, do-
mestic order is overtlirown, tlie moral principles
of the yoniig corrupted, deceit and hypocrisy
cherished, filial affection undermined, and a sure
foundation lai(jj^for many future perplexities and
sorrows. However much parents may ditFer in
opinion about certain principles, or modes of
conducting family affairs, it ought never to be
displayed in the presence of their children: and,
for the same reason, parents ought never to speak
disrespectfully of any teacher they employ, while
their children are listening to their remarks,
whatever may be the private opinion they enter-
tain respecting his qualifications or conduct.

ni. O.N THE INTELLECTUAL INSTRUCTION OF INFANTS.

In regard to the intellectual instruction of Infants,
I have already thrown out a few cursory remarks,
and shall afterward illustrate more particularly a
few principles applicable to this subject. In the
meantime, the following brief hints may suffice.
— As the senses are the primary inlets of all
knowledge — every object, within view, in the
system of nature, which has a tendency to convey
a new idea, should be distinctly presented to the
eyes of a child. He should be taught to contem-
plate it for some time with steadiness and atten-
tion, and the sound or name by which it is dis-
tinguished frequently repeated to him. In order
gradually to enlarge the sphere of his information,
the objects more immediately around him may,
in the first instance, be separately and distinctly
pointed out, uniformly accompanying the name
with the exhibition of the object. He should
next be occasionally led into the fields, and to the
banks of a river, the margin of the ocean, and a
seaport, if such places lie adjacent, and his atten-
tion directed to the most prominent objects con-
nected with those scenes; care being taken not to
confuse his imagination with too many objects at
one time. Perhaps it may be sufficient to confine
his attention to about three or four objects at a
time — such as a house, a tree, a co\^, and a horse.
To these his attention should be particularly
riveted, so that the idea of the object and its
name may be inseparah'y connected, and indeli-
bly impressed upon his mind. Afterward, other
objects, as a ship, a boat, a spire, a flower, the
clouds, &c., may, in t]ie same manner, be pre-
sented to his view, varying the scene, and gradu-
ally presenting new objects to his attention.
When he has thus acquired some knowledge of
the most interesting objects which compose the
scene around him, he may be desired to point out
any particular object when its name is men-
tioned. Supposing him in the fields, or on the
banks of a river, let him be desired to point to a
tree, a sheep, or a boat, if such objects are within
view; and by this means, he will become gradu-
ally familiarized with the scenery of nature, and
the terms by which its various parts are distin-
guished. His attention may also be directed to
the sky, not merely for the pui-pose of distinguish-
ing its objects, but for tracing their motions. Let
him be taken to a certain point, where he will
observe the rising sun, and, on the evening of the
same day, let him be brought to the same position
to behold his setting, and let him be taught to
mark the different direction in which he sets from
that in which he arose; from which he will na-
turally conclrde, that motion of some kind or
other has taken place. In like manner, about
twilight, when Ihe moon begins to appear, let him

be directed, from a certain station, ,o mark hei
position in the heavens with respect to certain
objects on the eurth over which siie appears, and
before going to bed, let her be viewed from the
same station, and the different position in which
she then appears pointed out. Such observations
will pave the way for more particular instruc-
tions on such subjects, as he advances in yearsi

In the same manner, artificial objects of vari-
ous descriptions, as windmills, tables, sofas, can-
dlesticks, hammers, scissors, organs, piano-fortes,
clocks, watches, globes, telescopes, microscopes,
&c., may be exhibited, and some of their uses
explained. It might not be improper to give a
child of two years old a lesson of this kind every
day, — making it a -rule to have, if possible, some
new object to exhibit to him at every lesson, and
occasionally recurring to the objects to which his
attention was formerly directed, that they may
become still more familiar to his mind. — In com-
municating to children the names of the various
objects of nature and art, all improper pronuncia-
tions and diminutives ought to be avoided — such
as doggie, cattie, horsie, chairie, instead of dog, cat,
horse, chair. It should be considered as an im-
portant rule of infant education — that a child
sliould never be taught any pronunciation, or any
sentiment, opinion, or idea lohatever, ichich he wUl
afterward be obliged to unlearn. Were this rule
universally attended to, in connection with the
hints now suggested, the path to knowledge would
be rendered smooth and easy — every day would
increase the ideas which tend to enlarge the ra- " '
pacify of the infant mind — the way for regular
scholastic instruction would be thoroughly pre-
pared— as the youth advanced toward manhood,
his knowledge and perceptions, if properly di-
rected, would increase with his growing years—
and, as no limits can be affixed to the expansion
of the human mind, he may go on to increase his
perceptions and intellectual enjoyments to an
indefinite extent, not only during the fleeting
periods of time, but throughout the ages of eter-
nity. But, in the present state of infant training,
a very considerable portion of our scholastic
instructions must consist in counteracting the im-
pressions which have been previously received.

After various objects of nature and art have been
presented to the view of a child, in conjunction
with the names by which they are distinguished
— their qualities should next be pointed out and
illustrated. Objects are either animated or in-
animated, vegetable or mineral, hot or colli, rough
or smooth, hard or soft — black, blue, green, yel-
low, or white — round, oval, square, triangular —
high, low, long or short, &c. Several properties
such as these can easily be illustrated to children
by familiar examples. To convey an idea to a
child that fre is hot, he may be presented with a
piece of iron, and caused to feel it; it may then
be put into the fire until it becomes just as hot as
a person may touch it without danger, and then
desire the child to put his finger upon it, which
will convince him of the nature of that property
which resides in the fire — the epithet cold being
applied in the first case, and h/)t, in the last. To
illustrate the ideas of roughness and smoothness,
he may be made to press his hand along an un-
hewn stone, and the top of a mahogany table.
Seven small boards or pieces of card paper, painted
with the seven primary colors of light, red, orange,
yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet — occasion-
ally exhibited for his amusement, in connection
with these terms, would soon teach him to dis-
tinguish the prominent colors of natural and
artificial objects; and, when he is led into the fields

INTELLECTUAL INSTRUCTION OF INFANTS.

43

and gardens, he should be induced to apply his
knowledge of colors by naming the prominent
color of every flower or shrub that may be pre-
sented to him. The qualities hard and soft may
bo illustrated by mailing him press his finger upon
a stone or a bar of iron, and upon a piuce of clay
or a lump of dough. Tlie property of light in
enabling us to discover the forms and colors of
objects may be shown, by closing the window-
shutters, or putting out a caudle under night, and
tlien desiring him to name the objects and colors
he perceives; — and the correspondence of the
organ of vision to the rays of light may be im-
pressed upon his mind by blindfolding him for a
minute or two, — and accompanying such exhibi-
tions with appropriate remarks level to his com-
prehension. The figures of objects may be re-
presented by pieces of wood or pasteboard cut
into the shapes of squares, parallelograms, trian-
gles, trapeziums, circles, ellipses or ovals, and
other mathematical figures, which would gradu-
ally impress the names and characteristic*" of
such figures upon his mind, and tend to facilitate
his progress in the scholastic instructions that may
bo afterward imparted. His idea of length, mea-
sure, or distance, may be rendered somewhat
definite, by presenting to him pieces of wood of
the length of an inch, a foot, a yard, and a pole,
and causing him to notice how many lengths of
the one is contained in that of the other; and the
idea of the specific gravities of bodies may be
impressed, by causing him to lift a weight of
brass, or cast iron, and another, of nearly the
same size and shape, make of light wood. The
sonorous qualities of bodies may be exhibited by
making him strike a small hand-bell with a key
or a piece of thick wire^ and immediately after-
ward, an egg-cup, or any small dish made of hard
wood. The various odoriferous smells •connected
with the vegetable kingdom may be communi-
cated by presenting to his nostrils, in succession,
a rose, a bunch of thyme, of balm, of pepper-
mint and of southernwood. Such experiments
and illustrations of the qualities of bodies may be
varied and multiplied to an indefinite extent; and
as they form the foundation of all knowledge, and
may be rendered subservient to the child's amuse-
ment, they ought not to be considered as unwor-
thy of our attention.

Many useful ideas might likewise be commu-
nicated to infants by means of engravings; es-
pecially in relation to objects which cannot be
diroclly presented to their view. Foreign ani-
mals, such as the elephant, the lion, the buffalo,
the camelopard, the monkey, the dromedary and
camel, may be in this way exhibited — and also
domestic animals, as the cow, the horse, the ass,
the dog, 8lc. — as children feel a considerable de-
gree of pleasure in being able to trace the resem-
blance between pictures and the objects they have
seen, when accurately represented in engravings.
Foreign scenes, as towns, churches, bridges,
mausoleums, triumphal arches, rural landscapes,
mountains, volcanoes, cataracts, lakes and other
objects, when accurately delineated, may likewise
lend to expand the conceptions of children, and
give them an idea of objects wliich their own
country does not exhibit. Various objects of art,
as ships, boats, windmills, towers, -spires, light-
houses, coaches, wagons, smiths' anvils, forges
and hammers, weavers' looms, &c., may also be
thus exhibited. One of tiie most pleasing and
usi'ful modes of exhibiting real objects by means
of pictures, is that of viewing pers-^jective prints
of streets, towns, villages and rural landscapes, by
meuua of the optical diagonal macldne; of which

I shall, in the sequel, give a short description. In
exhibiting objects to a cliiUl through the medium
of engravings, it may be proper, in the first in-
stance, to present to him only one object, well-
defined and disconnected with every adventitious
circumstance, as a man, a horse, a mountain, or a
tree, so that he may acquire a correct and well-
defined idea of the particular object exhibited
Afterward, a landscape in which these and other
objects are embodied may be laid before him, and
he may be desired to point out the individual ob-
jects of which it is composed, when their names
are mentioned. It is almost needless to remark,
that the pictures contained in most of our nur-
sery and toy-books, are altogether unfitted for the
exhibitions to Vi^hich I allude. They are generally
mere caricatures, and are little short of an insult
to the young, both as to the objects they most fre-
quently represent, and the manner in which they
are represented. Engravings, calculated to con-
vey instruction, should be on a moderately large
scale — every part of the object represented should
be accurately delineated — no objects should be
placed in awkward or unnatural positions — and
they should, in most cases, be colored after nature,
care being taken that they be not daubed with
fantastic or too glaring colors — a fault which
attaches to most of our pictures intended for
children. A series of engravings exhibiting all
the prominent scenery and objects of nature and
art, on a cheap plan, and properly classified and
arranged for the purpose now specified, is still a
desideratum.

While writing the above hints, I had an oppor-
tunity of trying the experiments now suggested,
on a fine little boy, a friend of my own, about two
years old. Little Tom was first presented with
the plates of a book of Natural History, and desired
to name the lion, the elephant, the camel, and
about tw nty or thirty other animals when their
figures were pointed out, which he did without
the least hesitation. The plates were then put
into his hand, and he was desired to turn up any
particular animal when its name was mentioned,
which he accomplished with considerable facility.
A sheet, containing about sixty engravings of
birds, quadrupeds, and fishes, where the diflerent
kinds of animals were grouped without any order
— was next laid before him, when he was request-
ed to point out a particular animal, when its name
was given, which he also did, in almost every in-
stance, after casting his eye up and down, and
across the engraving, and, when he had hit on the
object, he pointed to it with exultation, saying,
" There's the lion — there's the goat — there's the
dromedary," &c. The figure of a compound mi-
croscope was next exhibited, which he readily
named; and several hours afterward, a microscope
of the same construction as represented in the en-
graving, was placed before him, which he imme-
diately recognized and named, and then turned up
the engraving where its figure was delineated,
marking the resemblance between the one and the
other. The same experiments were made with a
terrestrial globe, an orrerj', a telescope, a clock, a
watch, and various other objects. He was next
desired to point to several articles in the apartment
— the table, a chair, the tongs, the shovel, the po-
ker, a map, a portrait of a friend whom he knew,
and other objects, which he at once recognized
and distinguished. Several engravings of land-
scapes were then presented to his inspection, when
he was requested to point out the men, women,
tree^, ships, houses, &c., of which they were com-
I osed; which he did with pleasure, and without
hesitation, pointing his little fingers to different

44

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

parts of tlie scene, and saying, "There's a dog —
there's a man — there's a lioiise — tliere's a tree,"
OLC. I next led liini into the garden, and placed
him in a proper sitnation for viewing the snrroun-
dinw ohjeets. I Hrst asked him to point to a
windmill — there being one, and onlyowe, in view.
He looked around for a few seconds, and, after fix-
ing his eyes on the object, and pointing with his
finger, exclaimed with pleasure, "There's wind-
mill"— and, looking at it with steadiness for a few
seconds, said with a kind of surprise, " No going
round;" whicii was actually the case, as there was
no wind. He was next desired to point out a flower,
a tree, a cow, a ship, and other objects, which
he at once distinguished with the same facility.

Tlie desire of this little boy for the exhibition
of new objects, especially as represented by pic-
tures, was almost voracious. After spending sev-
eral hours in succession, in exhibiting to him sev-
eral hundreds of plates of different encyclopedias,
and books of travels, he was still nnsatisfied, call-
ed for more books, and seemed to forget both hun-
ger and sleep. He recollected, with considerable
accuracy, the prominent objects that had been
presented before him in these engravings; and,
therefore, when a volume containing plates, which
he had already seen, was again presented, he push-
ed it away, and requested another. Every morn-
ing, as soon as he was dressed, his first request was,
"See more pictures — you please;" and, leading
me into the room where the books were kept,
pointed to the particular volumes he wished to in-
spect. Even his cravings for breakfast seemed to
be forgotten, amidst the delight with which he
contemplated new exhibitions of nature and art.
The varieties of animated nature seemed to afford
him the greatest degree of pleasure; but every
striking and well-defined object, of whatever de-
scription, which he had never seen before, par-
ticularly arrested his attention. The exhibition
©f perspective views, through the optical diagonal
machine, where the objects appear as they do in
nature, afforded him a high degree of gratification
while he described, in his own way, the different
parts of the scene. — These circumstances evident-
ly demonstrate the innate principle of curiosity,
or desire for knowledge, implanted in the infant
mind, which only requires to be judiciously regu-
lated, and a sei-ies of interesting objects exhibited,
in order to raise the human soul to the highest
pitch of intellectual improvement. They also in-
dicate the vast capacity of the mind for receiving
an indefinite variety of ideas — the pleasure associ-
ated with their acquisition — and the boundless de-
sires; after new and varied scenes and enjoyments,
which evidently point to a higher state of exis-
tence, where they will be fully gratified.

In stating the above circumstances — which to
some readers may perhaps appear trifling — my in-
tention is not to insinuate that the child alluded to
is superior to others of the same age. Every child,
whose physical and mental powers are in a sound
state, is capable of making the same acquisitions,
and feeling the same enjoyments; provided due
care be taken to direct the principle of curiosity
into a proper channel, and to supply it with
proper objects. Some children, in consequence of
their physical organization, may have more vigor
of intellect than others, they may feel higlily grati-
fied with some objects and pursuits, and iiidifter-
ent toward others; but they have all, substantial-
ly, the same faculties, and the same desire for the
acquisition of knowledge, in one shape or another
when its objects are presented, in an interesting
manner, to their view. — Such exhibitions as I
have now described ought not to bo viewed as

mere amusements. While they gratify the mind
of a child, and increase his enjoyments, they alsc
embody a train of useful instructions, which lay
the foundation of mental activity, and of all those
improvements he may afterward make during
the future scenes of his existence, whether in the
present life, or in the life to come. And, if this
be admitted, it will evidently appear to be a mat
ter of considerable importance — that nothing but
useful and correct ideas be imparted to the in-
fant mind, and that care be taken that everything
that is whimsical, fanciful, or inconsistent with
existing facts, be excluded from juvenile instruc-
tion, so that a child may never afterward have
occasion to struggle with youthful prejudices or
to counteract any of the instructions or impres-
sions he had previously received. And in order to ac-
complish this end it is requisite that servants, nurses,
and every other person connected with a family,
be specifically instructed as to the manner in which
they ought to conduct themselves toward children
both in their words and their actions, — and strictly
looked after, that nothing be said or done inconsist-
ent with the rules of parental tuition. — At the period
of life to which I now refer, it would be almost
preposterous, to pester the child with learning the
characters of the alphabet, or the uninteresting
sounds of b a, ba, b i, bi, b o, bo; unless it can be
done purely in the way of amusement. For a
child is generally disgusted with everything given
him as a task, and which is not accompanied with
pleasing emotions. It is quite time enough, at
the age of four years, in ordinary cases, to instruct
a child in reading his native language; though,
before this time, he may speak it with considera-
ble correctness, and acquire an indefinite number
of ideas. And when he.^has once seriously com-
menced his scholastic instructions, they should be
associated»with everything that may have a ten-
dency to render- them interesting and delightful —
a principle which ought to be kept in view through-
out all the subsequent departments of education.

I have enlarged farther on the subject of infant
education than I at first intended, from a strong
conviction of its primary importance to the im-
provement of society in knowledge and virtue.
If domestic training, during the three first years
of human existence, be either trifled with, or not
conducted on rational and moral "principles, the
arrangements in regard to their future education
will be to a certain degree frustrated. The habits
acquired, and the impressions made upon the mind
of a child, during this period, may have an influ-
ence on his improvement and happiness, not only
in the present world, but throughout the whole
of that endless existence to which he is destined.*

* It gives rae pleasure to learn, that the sulyeet of infhnt
education is now beginning; to excite more attention than it
has hitherto received; particularly by the establlshmerit of
Maternal JJssociatioiis. The first maternal institution ap-
pears to have originated with Mrs. Payson of Portland, pro-
vince of Maine, North America, about 1815. A maternal
association was first organized in Utica, in 1824. It com-
menced with eight members; but it appears from the Report
of 1833, that it now consists of above a hundred. Similar
associations were formed, about the same time, in Boston,
Xew England, and at Hartford, and they have lately been
organized in Glasgow, Greenock, and several other towns in
Great Britain. Their object is to diffuse information in re-
lation to the best methods of training up children in know-
ledge and moral linbits, and promoting their best interests,
both in respect to the present life and the life to come. For
accomplishing these objects — beside regular meetings for
prayer and conversation, at which the children sometimes at-
tend— a periodical has been commenced in America, entitled
"The Mother's Magazine," which is reprinted in London,
containing various useful facts, narratives, and observations,
illustrative of this subject. Such associations, if judiciously
conducted, cannot fail of producing a highly beneficial effect
on the rising generation, and ultimately on the state of gen-
eral society.

CH APTE 11 IV.

ON INFANT SCHOOLS.

Not many years ago, it would have been deem-
ed romantic, and even absurd in the extreme, to
have attempted the establishment of seminaries
for the instruction of infants of the age of eighteen
or twenty months, or even of two or three years.
But such institutions have not only been attempt-
ed, but actually established to a considerable ex-
tent in various States both in Europe and America
and have been attended with the most delightful
and beneficial effects. Children, at a very early pe-
riod as formerly noticed, before they have acquired
the alphabet of any language, are capable of receiv-
ing a very considerable portion of mental instruc-
tion. They possess the five senses, in nearly as
great perfection as those of mature years; and it is
through the medium of these senses that all our
knowledge, whetiier historical, philosophical, or
niligious, is acquired. Children possess, in a high
degree, the desire of novelty and the principle of
curiosity — faculties intended by the Creator to
stimulate to the prosecution of knowledge; and it
is only requisite that we direct the oj)eration of
these faculties in a proper channel, and present
interesting and appropriate objects to stimulate
their activity.

The principal objects of infant schools ought
therefore to be — to exhibit to the view of child-
ren as great a variety as possible of the scenes of
nature and the operations of art, either by direct-
ing their views immediately to the objects them-
selves, or by means of pictorial representations — to
teach them to distinguish one object from another,
to mark its peculiar qualities, to compare one object
with another, and to deduce certain useful truths or
conclusions, frv)m them — to instruct them how to
use their voices, their eyes and ears, their hands
and feet — to teach them the properties of num-
bers, the magnitudes, distances, and relative posi-
tions of objects, the forms and habits of animals,
tlie different classes and uses of vegetables and
minerals, the various objects to be seen in the
fields and gardens, and the general aspect and
phenomena of the atmosphere and the heavens —
to impress their minds with the existence of a Su-
preme Being, of their continual dependence upon
him, of his Goodness, Power, and Omnipresence,
and of the duties they owe him — to teach them the
fundamental maxims and rules of the Christian
system, and make them reduce them to practice
— to train them to kindness and affection toward
one another, to liabits of cleanliness, neatness, and
regularity in all their movements, and to conduct
themselves with moral order and propriety, both
in the school, the play-ground, and in their do-
mestic associations — in short, to develop all the
intellectual and moral powers of the mind, at a
much earlier period than has hitherto been deem-
ed expedient, in order to prevent the growth of
vicious habits and false opinions, and to prepare
them for all the subsequent instructions'and scenes
of action through which they may afterward
pass, that they may become blessings, instead of
curses, to the world, and rise up in wisdom

Vol. I.— 29

and knowledge, and in favor with God and witli

man.

In order to accomplish these purposes with the
greatest effect, infant schools, as well as all others,
should be erected, if possible, in an open and com-
manding situation, that a full view may be obtain-
ed of the heavens, the earth, and the ordinary phe-
nomena of nature. The best dimensions for the
school-room are found to be about 80 feet long,
by 22 or 24 wide, with seats all round, and a rising
platform or gallery at one end. Connected with
this should be a room, from 14 to 18 feet square,
for the purpose of teaching the children in classes,
and for those children who have made greater pro-
gress than the rest, that they may be trained for
monitors. The furniture necessary for such a
school, consists of a desk for the master; a rostrum
for the occasional use of the monitors; seats for
the children, who should all sit round the school-
room with their backs to the wall; a lesson-stand
of a considerable elevation, for exhibiting pictures
and lessons pasted on mill-board; stools for the
monitors; slates and pencils; pictures of natural
history, of scriptural subjects, of landscapes, of ru-
ral and domestic life, &c.; alphabets and spelling-
lessons; brass letters and figures, with boards for
them; cubes, parallelograms, geometrical figures
of various descriptions, illustrative of plain and
solid geometry; the transposition-frame, or arith'
meticon, for illustrating the properties of numbers.
To these should be added various little books, with
cuts, level to the comprehension of children; and
sets of maps, on a large scale, with the states,
kingdoms, provinces, counties, &c., accurately
distinguished and neatly colored. It is indispen-
sably requisite that a play-ground be attached to
every infant school, containing swings and other
contrivances for the purpose of amusemfent, and
that the children may divert themselves without
danger, in any innocent way their fancies may
devise. This play-ground should be as spacious
as possible. Even in towns, where property is
most valuable, the space allotted for this purpose
(including the school-room and teacher's house)
should not, if possible, be less than about 180 feet
long, and from 60 to 100 feet broad. In villages
where the ground is less valuable, it may be made of
still larger dimensions. With such accommodations
infants, to the number of 150 or 200, may be
trained by a master, and an occasional assis-
tant.

One of the main principles on which infant
schools should be conducted, is that oi Love; and
therefore, in commencing such an institution,
every action and every circumstance should be
attended to, which is calculated to convince them
that their teacher sincerely loves them, and wish-
es to promote their happiness, and that they ought
to be kind and affectionate to one another. The
first difficulty to be encountered, is to arrest and
keep up their attention, to make them act in con-
cert, and to class them according to their age and
capacities, causing those who obey any commands

(45)

46

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

^Ith the greatest promptness to be classed together.
Such (iilKculties are generally sunnomitcd by ma-
king tliein all 'move their luinds and feet at the
same time, wiicn repeating any sentence; some-
times by causing them to march in a regular body
round the school; sometimes by making them
put their hands one on the other when they are re-
peating a fact or a sentiment, and somi'times by
excitiirg them tc dance to the sound of aclarionet
or the viol. Monitors are selected by drilling the
oldest and the most expert of the children at sep-
arate hours, instructing them particularly in the
work they have to perform, and making every one
of them answerable for the conduct of his class.
These little masters frequently conduct themselves
with great shrewdness and ability, and sometimes
with a degree of importance and pomposity which
it is found necessary to check. The children are
taught sinking, by the master singing a psalm or
hymn several times in their hearing, until they
acquire a certain idea of the tune; after which
they are required to join with the teacher, and, in
a short time, the greater part are enabled to join
in the music with considerable correctness; and
nothing can be more interesting and exhilarating
to a piolis and benevole.it mind, than to listen to a
hundred young voices thus joining in unison, in
a hymn of praise to their Creator. They are
taught to repeat hymns generally in the following
manner. One of the monitors is placed in the
rostrum, with a book in his hand; he then reads
one line, and pauses until all the children in uni-
son have repeated it; he then reads or repeats an-
other, and so on in succession until the hymn is
finished. The same method is adopted in teaching
them spelling, catechisms, moral maxims and pre-
cepts, and whatever else is to be committed to mem-
ory. It should, however, be attended to, that
everything they commit to memory from cate-
chisms, hymns, or other books, should be previ-
ously explained; so that in every case, if possible,
they may acquire the ideas contained in the pass-
ages they are to repeat, before they charge their
memories with the vocables by which they are
expressed.

The Alphabet is taught by means of twenty-six
cards, corresponding to the number of letters, on
each of which is engraved a letter, along with some
object of nature or art, whose name begins with
that letter. Thus, on the card of the letter A is
engraved an apple. This card is held up to the
children, who name the letter and the object de-
picted beside it. A variety of questions is then put
respecting the nature, form, and properties of
the apple, and of the root, trunk, branches, leaves,
&c., of the tree on which it grows; by which the
attention of the children is kept alive, certain por-
tions of useful knowledge communicated, and the
idea of the lettermore deeply unpressed upon their
minds. On the card of letter C, a cow, a camel,
or a cat, is depicted; which is exhibited in the same
manner, and various questions put respecting the
figuie, parts, habits, and uses of either of these
animals: and so on through the other letters of
the al[)habet. This exhibition is varied as much
as possible, and practiced only two or three times a
week, that the children may not be wearied by
its too frequent repetition. Another plan is some-
times adopted, — an alphabet, printed in large let-
ters, both Roman and Italic, is pasted on a board,
and placed against the wall; the whole class then
Btands.around it, and the master or mistress points
lo the letters, desiring the children in a body to
pronounce the letter to which he points. In
spelling, each child is supplied with a card and
tin, on which certain short words are printed. A

monitor leads the rest in the following manner.
"C-h-a-i-r;" the other children immetliately fol-
low: and wlien they have spelled one word, he re-
peats another, until he has gone through all the
words on the card. For the purpose of teaching
the older children to tvrite the alphabet, they are
supplied with slates, on which the whole alphabet
is engraved — some in capital letters, and other.*! in
text; the children then put the pencil into the en-
graving, and work it round into the shape of the
letter, which they can scarcely avoid doing, as the
pencil will keep in the engraved part. In thi.<»
way they gradually learn both to form the letters
correctly, and to read written characters and sen-
tences.

The properties and numbers, and the funda
mental rules of Arithmetic, are taught by various
modes; particularly by an instrument which llUs
been termed the Arithmcticon, or Transposition-
Frame. The following is a figure and descrip-
tion of the use of this instrument, taken from
Mr. Wilderspin: — "The frame is sixteen inches
square, and made of wood: twelve wires pass
through it at equal distances; on which wires, sev-
enty-eight movable balls are to be placed, begin
ning with one on the first, two on the second,
three on the third, &c., up to twelve." By this
instrument may be taught " the first principles
of grammar, arithmetic, and geometry. It is
used as follows — Move one of the balls to a part
of the frame distinct from the rest: the children
will then repeat, ' There it is, there it is.' Apply

your finger to the ball, and set it running round;
the children will immediately change from 'saying,
' There it is,' to ' There it goes, there it goes.'
When they have repeated ' There it goes,' long
enough to impress it on th?ir memory, stop the
ball: the children \viil probably say, 'Now it
stops, now it stop;.' ■'>S')i.«ii that is the case, move
another bail to it, and ihiu oiplain to the child-
ren tlie diiterenco !.**lw3^^^ singular and plural,
desiring them to csM cvA, ' There they are, there
they arc;' and when {Key nave done that as long
as may be proner, set both balls moving, and it is
likely they will call out,, ' There they go, there
they go,' &c. &c. By Ihe natural position of
the balls, they may be tar ght to begin at the first.
The master, raisin,'^ it at the top of the frame,
says, 'What am I doing?' Children answer,
'Raising the ball up with your hand.' Q. 'Which
hand?' A. ' Left hand.' Then the master lets the
ball drop, saying, 'One, one.' Raise the two
balls, and propose questions of a similar tendency:
then let them fall; the childre » will say, ' Twice
one:' raise three, and let them fill as before; the
children will say, ' Three times one.' Proceed to
raise the balls on each remaining wire, so that
they may say, as the balls are let fall, Four times
one', five times one, six times one, seven times
one, eight times one, nine times one, ten times
one, eleven times one, twelve tim"." one. Wo

ADVANTAGES OF INFANT SCHOOLS.

47

now proneed as follows; 1 and 2 are 3, and 3 are
G, and 4 are ID, and 5 are 15, and U are 21, and 7
are 2S, and H are 'Mi, and 3 are 45, and Itl are 55,
and 11 are (J(), and 12 are 78. S'lli'.raction is
taujrht by tiiis iustrunient tiius; — Take 1 from 1,
nolliing remains, moving tlie first ball, at tlie same
time, to tlie other end of the frame. Then re-
move one from the second wire, and say, 'Take 1
from 2;' the chiklrcu will instantly perceive tliat
only one remains: then 1 from 3, and 2 remain;
1 from 4, 3 remain; 1 from 5, 4 remain, ifcc.
Multiplication is tanght as follows: — The teacher
moves the first ball, and immediately after the
two balls on the second wire, placing them un-
derneath the first, saying, at the same time,
•Twice one are two,' which the children will
readily perceive. Next, remove the two balls on
the second wire, for a multiplier, and then remove
two balls on the third wire, placing them exactly
under the first two, which form a square, and
th'-n say, ' Twice two are four,' which every
child will discern for himself, as he plainly per-
ceives there are no more. We then move three
on the third wire, and place three from the fourth
wire underneath them, saying, 'Twice three are
six.' Remove four on the fourth wire, and
four on the fifth; place them as before, and say,
♦Twice four are eight;' " and so on, through all
the wires and balls.

The first principles of arithmetic are also
taught, by means of small cubes. The children
are formed into a square, in the center of which
Is placed a table, on which the cubes are placed —
one, two, three, or four at a time. The master
puts down three, for example, and inquires of the
children how many there are; when they natu-
rally call out, "Three." He puts down two
more; and inquires as befoi'e, "How many
are three and two?" they answer "Five;"
and thus goes on until he has put down to the
uumber of fifty or sixty. In a similar manner
Subtraction is illustrated, by placing, for example,
9 cubes on the table, and saying, "Take 5 from
9, how many will remain?" and, removing 5
cubes, it will be seen that 4 remain, &c. Tlie
multiplication table, the pence tables, the tables
of money, time, weights, and measures, are taught
by a monitor repeating certain porlions of them
at a time, and being imnieciiately followed by all
the chil;lren in unison. Thus, when tlie monitor
announces " 7 times 8 are 56," or " Forty pence
are tl-.ree and fourpence," the children in a body
repeat the same; and in a short time the whole of
these tables are impressed upon their memories.

The leading facts of Sacred History are com-
municated by means of a series of historical pic-
tures, and by a variety of minute descriptions and
interrogatories. The more interesting facts of
Natural History are exhibited by a number of
large cards, on which are pasted engraved repre-
sentations of quadrupeds, birds, fishes, insects,
tiees, flowers, and similar objects; in the expla-
nation of which an opportunity is taken of detail-
ing tlv^ir forms, qualili.s, and uses, and any anec-
dotes that may occur respecting tliem. Knowledge
is also communicated in relation to many common
and useful subjects, by presenting before them
r-txl objects, such as gold, silver, copper, brass,
tinfoil; a piece of flax, thread, raw silk, twisted
silk, cotton, linen, gauze, nankin, gingham, silk
Velvet, &c., describing the different processes con-
nected with their manufacture, and teaching the
children how to recognize and distinguish such
substances. But, as I have no intention of enter-
ing into the minute details connected with infant
schools, I refer those who wish a more particular

account of these institutions, to Mr. Wilderspin's
excellent treatise on " Infant Education," and Mr.
Stow's " Moral Training,"* and shall conclude
th.s article by a few general remarks on the ad-
vanfagrs which would result from the universal
establishment of such seminaries.

1. The establishment of infant schools in every
region of the globe would increase to an indefi-
nite degree, the mass of useful information
among mankind. Three or four years of the
most important period of human life have hith-
erto been suffered to pass away without any ma-
terial intellectual improvement. The young,
indeed, during this period, acquired various frag-
ments of useful knowledge, in spite of our re-
missness and inattention; for the principle of
curiosity was always alive, and could never bo
altogether suppressed, wherever objects appeared
by which it might be roused and gratified. But
we never thought of directing their senses and
mental powers, regularly and systematically, to
the forms, qualities, uses, and characterislie features,
of surrounding objects, as if such things had
been beyond the range of their comprehension;
while, at the same time, we tortured their memo-
ries with the retention of sounds and sentences
with which they felt disgusted, and which they
could not understand. But the experiment of in-
fimt schools has shown (and if we had not acted
like fools in the business of education, it might
long ago have been demonstrated), that children
from the age of three to six years are capa-
ble of acquiring far more of what may properly
be denominated knowledge, than what had been
acquired by our usual insipid modes of instruc-
tion at the age of twelve or fourteen. And, what
is worthy of particular attention, this knowledge
has been acquired, not only without " stripes and
imprisonment," but with the highest degree of
satisfaction and enjoyment on the part of the
young. If the world, therefore, is ever to lie
thoroughly enlightened, in everything which ro-
lates to the present happiness and the eternal in-
terests of mankind, and if the knowledge of
Jehovah is "to cover the earth as the waters
cover the seas," the foundation must be laid in
the universal establishment of infant schools, on
the most judicious and expansive plans, in every
nation under heaven.

2. It is not only the amount of knowledge ac-
tually acquired, during the period alluded to, but
the intellectual habits formed during its acquisition,
which render such instructions of immense im-
portance. For want of these habits being formed
in ea.dy life, the great bulk of mankind may be
said to have "eyes, but see not — ears, but hear
not," and consequently "do not understand;" they
know neither the proper use of their sensitive
organs, nor are qualified to deduce proper conclu-
sions from the objects to which they are occasion-
ally directed; but pass through life without any
rational application of the senses and faculties
with which tliey are furnislied. Is there one out
of ten who has ascertained, from his own obser-
vations, that the starry heavens perform an ap-
parent revolution round the earth every twenty-
four hours, around a certain fixed ))oint called the
pole? Is there one out of twenty that can tell at
what seasons of the year the new moon will ap-
pear at a high elevation above the horizon, and
when the full moon will ap])ear high or low ?
And yet these facts may be ascertained, without

* " Moral Traininj, Infant and Juvenile, as ajipilcable to
the conilition of the Population of lar^e Towns. By David
Stow, a IJirector of the Moilel !?chools, Glas'jow. Second
Edition, enlarged." With plates.

48

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

Uie least difllcuity, by a siiii[)lt> application of the
organs of vision to tlie respective objects, com-
bined with a ddsire to know the results; — in the
first case, the object may be (Ictenniaed in the
course of a single day, and in the latter case,
within the course of a year; and yet it is a fact,
that sixty or seventy years luive passed away, in
the case of thousands and millions of those who
are denominated rutional hiitigs, vviliiout their
knowing either tiie one or the other. Tiie same
position might be illustrated in thousands of
similar instances, where the grossest ignorance
prevails in relation to multitudes of ol)jects, which
might have been prevented by a rational use of
the sensitive organs with wliicli the Creator has
endowed us. Now, in infant schools, children
are trained to a proper application of their sensi-
tive powers — presented with suitable objects on
which tliey may be exercised, and tauglit to de-
duce from them useful truths, with their practical
applications. Those intellectual habits being
formed in early life, will naturally be brougiit
into more vigorous and extensive exercise as they
advance in years, and lay the foundation of all the
treasures of knowledge they may accumulate,
both iu the present life and throughout the ages
of eternity. Such habits being formed and con-
tinually exercised, a relish for knowledge, and
activity of mind, are produced, which will facili-
tate all their subsequent acquisitions, and render
them interesting and delightful ; so that, in
whatever stations in society they may afterward
be placed, they will be distinguiL^hed as men of
wisdom and intelligence — provided their subsequent
education be conducted on the same rational prin-
ciples.

3. What is of still greater importance, — in
tliese schools the foundations are laid of moral and
religious habits. It has been the practice hitherto,
iu infant schools — a practice which I trust will
never be abolished — that tiie cliildren have their
minds impressed with the idea of an Omnipresent
Being, who continually supports them, and to
whom they are amenable for all their actions —
that their exercises are uniformly commenced with
prayer, and with a hymn of praise to the Creator
and Redeemer of men — that the leading facts of
Revelation are detailed in the most simple and in-
teresting manner, and its moral precepts enforced
in all their associations with each other — that the
principles of fraud, dishonesty, deceit, hatred and
malignity, wherever they appear, are strictly
checked and counteracted, and the practice of
love, kindness, honesty, justice and truth, en-
forced and exemplified. Now, such truths incul-
cated, and such practices enforced and exempli-
fied, for several years, when the mind is suscepti-
ble of every impression, and of being molded
into any habit, must be of immense importance
in a moral point of view — and if such seminaries
were universally established, conducted on liberal
and judicious plans, and succeeded by seminaries
of a higher order, conducted on similar moral
principles — society would soon assume a new
moral aspect, wickedness and debauchery would
be banished from our streets, thefts and robberies
would gradually be diminished, brawlings, con-
tentions and execrations would cease, and har-
mony and good-will be introduced into the
schemes and associations of mankind.

It is an injunction inculcated by the highest
authority, "Train up a child in the way he should
go, and when he is old he will not depart from it."
The last part of this sentence contains a most
important truth, stated without the least excep-
tion or modification. The interpretation generally

; given of it by divines is, "He will not ordinarilif
; depart from it." But what warrant have we thus
to limit and modify tlie dictates of insjiiration?
i Let the dijclaration be viewed as a universal and
I eternal truth, and the problem to be solved will be,
"Has over a child hitherto, in all points of view,
intellectually and morally, been trained up iu the
j way he should go?'' If so, we ought to believe
that the declaration iu this passage was fully rea-
, lized in such a case. Much has been said respect-
j ing the children of pious parents turning aside
from the paths of rectitude in their rijjer years.
I But the fact to be determined is, Have such pa-
i rents trained up their children in a rational, judi-
cious, and benevolent manner? I have seen per-
I sons piously disposed, and even ministers of the
I gospel, train up their cliildren as foolishly and
j injudiciouslj^ as those who made no profession of
religion, and even with less wisdom and discretion.
I Not that they intended to train their otlspring in
any bad principles and practices, but that they
were either ignorant of the true mode of training
j children, or had imbibed false maxims, or in-
dulged a foolish fondness, or had neglected to
i bring their children under a judicious control, or
had humored their whims and pampered their ap-
I petites, or were placed in certain circumstances,
and iu the mi ist of difficulties over which they
had little control. Even in attempting to teach
'. their children the principles of Christianity, their
plans have been calculated rather to excite dis-
gust at religion, than to allure their hearts to the
practice of its heavenlj' precepts. What else
could be expected, when children, on the Sabbath,
were confined to a corner, conning memorial
; tasks, comniitfing to memory catechisms. Psalms,
and ciiapters from their tattered New Testaments,
of which they understood not a single sentence—
' and at the same time deprived of their usual sen-
sitive enjoj'ments, and, doubtless, exclaiming in
their hearts, •' 0 what a weariness is iti when will
the Sabbath be over?" — just as if religion con-
i sistad in the acquisition of technical terms, sounds
and sentences, and metaphysical dogmas. Is this
' the way to induce the young to love God, " to call
his Sabbaths a delight, and the holy of the Lord,
honorable?" or is it to be wondered at, that those
I who have been brought up in this way have some-
; times struck off at a tangent from the restraints
; of religion *o the ways of sin and folly? If the
I whole train of education tlirough which such
! children passed, from the first year of their exist-
ence to the period when they turned aside from
the paths of righteousness, were laid open to our
view, we should doubtless, be enabled to account
: for all such moral aberrations, and to trace the
intimate connection between cause and effect.

I have thrown out these remarks for the pur-
pose of showing, that if public and domestic
education be conducted with judgment and piety,
if children be trained in infant schools and other
seminaries in useful knowledge, and to the habits
of piety and moral order, — we have the surest
grounds for concluding, that, when arrived at
mature age, they v/ill become intelligent and use-
ful members bolli of Christian and of civil society,
and that our arrangements and labors in these
respects "shall not be in vain in the Lord." The
dictates of Inspiration on this point are in perfect
unison with the laws of the moral world, and are
corroborated by universal experience. Almost
every person feels that early impressions are the
most vivid and the most lasting; and it is a fact,
that, according to the bent which the habits, dis-
positions, and conduct the young receive, during
tlie first ten or twelve years of their existence,

MORAL EFFECTS OF IXFAXT SCHOOLS.

49

Buch will it gciiorally remain, with a few slight
modifications, during' the future periods of their
lives. Hence tlie difficulties — in many cases in-
surmountable— which must he encountered, in
order to counteract the habits and vicious propen-
sities acquired during this early period; and hence
the comparative ease vvitli which children may
be trained to intelligence and moral habits, when
they are committed, at a very early age, to the
care of a judicious and intelligent teacher of an
infant school.*

•As an illustration of the moral and intellectual effects
of infant teachin«r, I subjoin the Ibllowin'; examples, taken
from Mr. VVililerspin's " Infant Education," as what occur-
led in the course of his own experience; —

1. The Whistle. "Many of the cliildren were in the
habit of hringincT marbles, tops, whistles, and other toys, to
the school, which often caused much disturbance: I found it
necessary to forbid tlie children from bringing anything of
tlie kind. After giving notice two or tlitee limes in the
school, r told them, that if any of them brought such things,
they would be taken from them. In consequence, several
tilings tell into my hands, whicli I did not always think of
returning; and among other things, a whistle from a lillle
boy. Tlie child asked me for it as be was going home, but
havin" several visitors at the time, I put the cliild off, tel-
ling him not to plague me, and he went home. I had for-
gotten the circumstance altogether, but it ap))ears theAliild
did not; for some time af or, while T was lectiuiug the children
upon the necessity of telling truth, and on the wickedness
of stealing, th^ little fellow appro.ached me and said, 'Pha-ie,
sir, pou stole my whistle' 'stole your whistle,' said I, 'did
I not give it you again!' 'No, teacher, I asked you for it
and you would not give it to me.' 1 stood self convicted,
being accused in the middle of my lecture, before all the
children, and really at a loss to know what excuse to make,
for I had mislaid the whi.-itle, and could not return it to the
child. I immediately gave the child a halfpenny, and said all
I could to persuade the children that it was not my intention
to keep it. — This trifling mistake of mine did more harm
than I was able to repair for some time; for if we wish to
teach children to be honest, we should never take anything
from them without retnrning it again." — This story shows
how necessary it is to teach by example as well as precept
—and that children have a clear perception of any discre-
pancy tnat may take place in this respect.

2. 7ne boy and the sous. "One day while I was walking
ir. the playground, I saw at one end of it about twenty
children, apparently arguing a subject, pro and con. From
the attitude of several of the orators, f judged it was about
something which appeared to them of considcrablo import-
ance. I wished to know the subject of debate, but was
satisfied that if I approached the children it might put an
end to the matter altogether. Some of the by-standers saw
me looking very attentively at the principal actor; and, as I
suppose, suggested to the party the propriety of retiring to
some other spot; for immediately they all retired behind a
partition, whish afforded me an opportunity of distinctly
hearing .all that passed, without \>e\n;i observed by them.
I soon found that the subject of debate was a song. It
seems that one of the children had brought a song to the.
school, which some of the monitors had read, and having
decided that it was an improper thing for the child to have
in his possession, one of them had taken it from the owner,
and destroyed it ; the aggrieved party had complained to
some of the other children, who said that it was thieving
for one child to take anything from another child without
his consent. The boy, nettled at beini; called a thief, de-
fended himself by saying that he, as a monitor, had a right
to take away from any of his class anything that was cal-
culated to do them harm; and was, it seems, backed in this
opinion by many others. On the other hand, it was con-
tended, that no such right existed; and it was doubtful to
me, for a considerable time, on which side the strength of
the argument lay. At last, one of the children observed to
tlie following eflect: 'You should have taken it to master,
because he would know if it was bad better than yon.' This
was a convincing argument, and to my great delight the boy
replied — 'How mncli did the song cost?' The rpply was,
'.^L halfperny.' 'Here, then, take it,'s?,ys the child, 'I hail
*ne given nie to-day; so now remember I have paid you
for it; but if you biing any more .songs to school, I will tell
Bi.'.ster.' This seemed to give gen.'ral satisfaction to the
whole party, who immediately dispersed to their several
amosements. A -truggle like this between the principles
of duty and honest i, among children so very younj, exem-
plifies, beyonxi a doubt, the immense advantage of early in-
struction.''— Here we have a specimen, rn the case of very
yonng children, of nice discrimination in regard to the prin-
ciples of moral rectitnde and of reasoning, which w^ould
have done no discredit to an assembly of senators.

4. Lifant schools are calculated to rescue thou
santlg of children fro7ii the pernicious injtiience of
iffuoraut and immoral parents, and to prevent rrmsi
of tliose crimes ichich injure the peace and prosper ihj
of society. The immoral princijiles and vicious
habits iu which multitudes of children are trained
under the domestic roof, not only lay the founda-
tion of their own unhappiuess and ruin, but are
productive of many pests and nuisances to gene-
ral society. In cities and populous towns this
fact is too frequently realized. Maiiy children
are trained up, even by their parents, to habits of
pilfering, which they .sometimes learn to jirac-
tice with the utmost cunning and expcrtness,
without the least sense of moral delinquency. It
was estimated, that in the year 1819, in the city
of London alone, the number of boys who pro-
cured the greaterpart of their subsistence by pick-
ing pockets, and thii^ving in every possible form,
amounted to from twelve to Jifteen hundred ! One
man had forty boys in training to steal and pick
pockets, v/ho were paid for their exertions with a
part of the plunder; and a woman who had entrap-
ed eight or ten children from their parents, had
them trained up and sent out in every direction
for the, purpose of thieving, until she was happily
detected. Such children, in all probability, were
chiefly procured from the families of the ignorant
and the vicious; and when a habit of pilfering is
early indulged, it not only leads to the practice of
falsehood, cunning .and deceit, in all their diversi-
fied forms, but entirely blunts the moral sense,
and leads to the commission of almost every other
crime. It is no uncommon thing to observe in
the police reports of London, accounts of boys, and
even girls, of six or seven years of age, being ap-
prehended for the ofFenses of pocket-picking, shop-
lifting, stripping children of their clothes and or-

3. Infant critics. "Having discoursed one day on the
difference between isosceles .ind scalene triangles, I ob-
served that an acute isosceles triangle had all its angles
acute, and proceeded to observe that a richt-angled scalene
triangle had all its angles acute. The children immediately
began to laugh, for which I was at a loss to account, and
told them of the impropriety of laughing at me. One of
the children immediately re]>iied, 'Please, sir, do yon know
what we were laughing at?' I replied in the negative.
'Then, sir,' says the boy, 'I will tell you. Please, sir, you
have made a blunder.' I, thinking I had not, proceeded to
defend myself, when the children replied, 'Please, sir, you
convict yourself.' I replied, 'How sol' 'Why,' said the
children, 'you said a right-angled triangle had one right angle,
and that ail its angles are acute. If it has one right angle, how
can all its angles be acute?' I soon perceived that the
children were right, and that I was wrong. — At another
time, when lecturing the children on the subject of cruelty
to animals, one of the little children observed, 'Please, sir,
my big brother catches the poor flies, and then sticks a pin
through them, and makes them draw the pin along the
table.' This afforded me an excellent opportunity of ap-
penling to their feelings on the enormity of this offense; and,
among other things, I observed, that if a poor fly had been
gifted with powers of speech like their own, it probably
would have exclaimed, jehile dead, as follows; — 'Yon
naughty child, how can you think of torturing me so? Ig
there not room enough in the world for you and me? Did I
ever do yon any harm? Does it do you any good to put me
to such harm? How would you like a maii to run a piece of
wire through your body, and make you draw things about?
Would you not cry at the pain?' &c. Ilavmg finished, one
of the children replied, 'How can anything speak if it is
dead?' 'Why,' said I, 'supposing it could speak.' 'You
meant to say, sir, rfi/in?, instead of dead.' — In this easel
purposely misused a word, ami the children detected it." —
Here we have another instance of the nice discrimination
of winch children are capable, and of the great importance
of their being tanght to think — one of the most important
parts of edncation, which has been so long overlooked. In
eonsecjnence of their having acquired the elements of
thought, they were enabled, in the one case, to refute the as-
sertion of their teacher, by a conclusive argument; and, in
the other, to detect the misapplication of a term. A whol«
community taught to think and reason, would be the means
of preventing numerous evils, anj of intfoducing innumei-
able blessings into the social state.

60

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

nanienis, and similar depreilations committed with
all llie oxpertiiess of an experienced deliiiquoiit.
And, if sucli montal aclivilios arc so early display-
ed in tiio arts of wickodnoss, how important must
lit be to bond the active powers of the young in a
contrary direction, and how many useful energies
might we soon bring to bear upon the renovation
of the moral world I For, notwithstanding the
depravity of human nature, children may bo train-
ed to exert their skill and activities in the cause
of virtue, hs well as in the arts of mischief, if the
same care and ingenuity be employed in their in-
struction.— Now, infant schools are peculiarly
calculated to promote in children habits of virtuous
activity. They arc taught to think and reason,
and to apply the rules of Christiauily to their ac-
tions and social intercourses with each other — arc
instructed in the evil of lying, swearing, stealing,
and other vices; and some of them who liad pre-
viously been addicted to these vices have been effec-
tually cured of such evil propensities. Not only
80, but the sentiments and habits they have carried
home to their parents have sometimes been the
means of arousing them to consideration, and
turning them "from the error of their ways."
And, although infant schools were established for
no other purpose than prevention of crimes, it
would save to the public ten times the expense
that might be incurred in their erection and su-
perintendesce; for, in large cities, such young
delinquents as I have now alluded to, regularly
supply the place of the hundreds of old and expe-
rienced thieves that are yearly convicted and trans-
ported to another country; and the expense at-
tending the conviction and transportation of one
delinquent, is sometimes more than would suffice
for the erection of an establishment for the in-
struction of a hundred children.

5. In infant tchools, social hahits and feelings
may he cultivated with safetij and with pleasure by
the young. In most other circumstances the so-
cial intercourse of the young is attended with a
certain degree of danger, from the influence of
malignant passions and vicious propensities which
too frequently appear in the language and con-
duct of their companions. "Evil communications
corrupt good manners;" so that the minds, even
of those who are trained with pious care under
the domestic roof, are in danger of being tainted
with vice, when allowed to indulge in promis-
cuous intercourse with their fellows. Eut in in-
fant establishments, they are, during the greater
part of the day, under the inspection of their
teachers, both in scliool and at play-hours, where
nothing immoral issuffered to make its appearance ;
and the exercises in which they are emploj'ed, the
objects exhibited to tlieir view, the mutual conver-
sations in which they engage, and the amusements
in which they indulge, form so many delightful
associations, equally conducive to mental improve-
ment and sensitive enjoyment, which will after-
ward be recollected with a high degree of plea-
sure.

'5. The establishment of infant schools in hea-
then land<, wherever it is practicable, tcill, I con-
ceive, be the most efficient means of undermining the
fabric of Pagan superstition and idolatry, and of
converting unenlightened nations to ihefai.'h and prac-
tice of our holy religim. When we would instruct
adults in anything to wliich theyhave been unac-
customed, we find the attempt extremely difhcult,
find frequently abortive, in consequence of the
strong influence of long-established habits. In
like manner, when we attempt to expound the
truths of Christianity to the heathen, and enforce
them on their attention, we encounter innumera-

ble diiliculties, arising f;'o.ii preconceived opinions,
inveterate habits, long-estaMislied customs, ancient
traditions, the laws and usag'i's of their forefather*,
the opinions of their suptrnrr., and their igno-
rance of the fundamental ])rinv'ij)le.-) of legitimate
reasoning; so that comparatiro^y fe^y of the adut-.
heathen have been thoro uglily coi.vortcd to llu
Christian faith, notwithstandiud; t.he numcrciu
missionary enterprises which hax'e been carrie*
I'orward for the last thirty years. But if in
fant schools were extensively esttbllslnd, it
all those regions which are the scene of i-aission-
ary operations, we should have thoupiwds of
minds prepared for the reception of Divine trUh,
having actually imbibed a portion of the spirit of
Christianity, and being unfettered by those heath-
enish pi-ejudices and habits to which I have alluded.
Every infant school, and every school of instruc-
tion conducted on the same principles, at wliich
they might subsequently attend, would become a
seminary for Christianity; and we might, on
good grounds, indulge the hope that the greater
part of the ciiildren trained up in such seminaries,
when the truths and foundations of religion were
more fully exhibited to them, would ultimately
make a profession of adherence to its cause and
interests, and regulate their conduct by its holy
requisitions. In this case, instead of a kw insu-
lated individuals occasionally embracing the relig-
ion of the Bible, we should frequently hear (to
use the language of Scripture) of "nations being
born at once, and a people as in one day." For,
the young, thus instructed, when arrived at youth
and manhood, would exert a most powerful influ-
ence on their fathers, mothers, friends, and rela.-
tives, and on all around them — while their own
minds have been brought luidor the most salutary
inlluence, being pre-occupied with those truths
aud habits which will preserve them from the con-
tamination of the heathenish practices wiiicii pre-
vail around them.

It gives me much pleasure to learn, that in the
rudest portion of the pagan world (namely, in the
regions ofSouthern Africa) such institutions have
been recently established, and been accompanied
with many beneficial effects. Mr. Buchanan,
sui)erintendeut of the infant school at Cape
Town, during the yea- 1832, established aud reor-
ganized a number of these inatitutions, at Caledon,
Pacaltsdorp, Hankey, Bethelsdorp, Port Elizabeth,
Theopolis, Philipston, ButFalo River, and other
places; and, though the returns of scholars are
not complete, they amount to about 500 children.
After the school in Theopolis had been established
only six months, the number of children in daily
attendance amounted to from 110 to 120. Many
of the children were capable of giving effect to
the monitory system, and their conduct is describ-
ed as cheerful, gentle, and compliant, although
but a few months before they were most of them
j " in a state of nature." The infant school at
Bethelsdorp, was re-estaVdished under the care of
a native female. About two years ago it was dis-
continued, after having been carried on for six
months. The advantages, hov.-ever, which the
I children had derived during that short period,
were evinced, notwithstanding the iutei-val which
had elapsed, by the superiority of manner and in-
telligence which they appeared to I\Ir. Buchanan
to possess over the uninstructed children of other
1 stations. They had been accustomed, after the
! school was discontinued, to assemble in groups,
I and repeat for their amusement the lessons and
1 hymns they had learned at the school. Jlr. Bu-
chanan, on a former occasion, assisted in opening
I and organizing a school at Caledon. O-i his lat«

ERRONEOUS VIEWS OF INFANT SCHOOLS.

31

visit, he peroeived a marked improvement in the
dress and personal ceaidincssof the children. At
tlieopeniiig of the school, out of thirty pupils, two
only hud any otjjcr covering than sheep-skins,
nnd many were unclothed. AV'hen he ht.st took
his leave of them, thoy were all dressed like other
children, and many of tiieni with consivlerable
neatness It was apparent, that tlie children luid
acquired some sense of the propriety of dress and
personal cleanliness, from their manner during
the repetition of the lesson, "To put my clothes on
neat and tii/IU, and see my hands and face are clean ,"
and it was equally obvious that their parents ap-
preciated the advantages of the institution, from
tlie fact of some of taeiu having voluntarily re-
quested to be allowed gratuitously to clean out
the school-room, alternately, and of their having
continued regularly to perform that service. The
inhabitants of many otiier villages have expressed
the desire for the introduction of infant scliools
among themselves — offered to appropriate for
that puri)ose the best house they had, and promis-
ed, when their lands shall be measured out to them
to erect a proper building at their joint expense.
In several of the villages they had placed their
children under the care and instruction of one of
tlieir own number, until a better teacher could be
procured. Mr. Buchanan left at Piiilipston suffi-
cient apparatus and lessons for the establishment
of twelve schools — arrangements were in progress
for their commencement — and six young persons
were attending the schools, to qualify themselves
for becoming teachers.*

Such are the auspicious beginnings of infant
education in heathen lands, and the pleasure with
which its introduction is hailed by the adult pop-
ulation. While many of them are unaware of the
blessings to he derived from a reception of the
doctrines of religion, they are attracted by the
beautiful arrangements and exercises of infant
establishments, and at once perceive their benefi-
cial tendency and effects on the objects of their
affection; and as their children advance in the
accomplishments th<^y acquire at these seminaries,
they will every day become more interesting and
delightful in their eyes; and it is not too much to
suppose, that the knowledge and habits acquired
by the children will be the means of enlightening
tlie understandings and polishing the manners of
their parents. It ought, therefore, to be one of
the first objects of every missionary, to whatever
part of the heathen world he is destiu-^d, to estab-
lish, as far as practicable, seminaries for the de-
velopment and instruction of infant minds; and
every facility for this purpose should be afforded
him by the Society under wliose auspices he goes
forth to evangelize the nations.

7. Infant schools ought to be universally esfub-
hshed Jbr all classes, and in every country of the
civilized world. It is an opinion which still too
much prevails, that such establishments are chiefly
calculated for the instruction of the lower classes
of society. But this is a f/ross misconception of
tlie nature and tendency of infant institutions, and
a very dangerous mistake. These schools are
adapted no less for the improvement of the higlier,
than the lower ranks of the community; and,
unless they be soon adopted by the superior classes,
the lower ranks may soon advance before them,
both in point of intelligence and of moral decorum.
For, in many of the families of the higher ranks,
immoral mavms are inculcated and acted upon,
and many foolish and wayward passions indnlg-d,
as well as in the families of their inferiors; and,

• See Evangelical Magazine for December, 1833.

although the manners of their children receive a
superficial polish superior to others, their moral
dispositions are but little more improved, and they
possess nearly as little of what may be termed
useful knowlcdye, as the great body of the lower
ranks around them. Until the families of aH
classes feel the influence of the instructions and
habits acquired at such institutions, the world will
never be thoroughly regenerated. In the mean-
time, if the higlier classes feel averse that their
children should associate with those of an inferior
grade, they have it in their power to establish
infant seminaries exclusively for themselves. But
I am sorry to find, that, in this country, scarcely
any schools of this description have yet been estab-
lished. Tliere ought, however, to be no objec-
tions to children of different ranks associating
together for the purpose of instruction; unless in
those cases where children are accustomed to
dirty habits, or where they may be exposed to
infections diseases. In the Northern States of
America, perhaps the most enlightened in the
world, children of all ranks are taught in the semi-
naries, without any artificial distinctions; — all
are nearly equally enlightened and improved, and
society, in its several departments, moves on with
the greatest harmony.

In concluding these remarks, it may not be
improper to observe, that teachiny the children to
read ought not to be considered as one of the main
objects of infant sciiools. Many parents are still
so ignorant and foolish, as to estimate the advan- -
tages of such schools, merely by the progress they
conceive their children have attained in the art of
reading. They are unqualified for appreciating
intellectual instruction and moral habits, and have
no higher ideas of the progress of education, than
what arise from the circumstance of their children
being transferred from one book to another; and
hence, they frequently complain, that their child-
ren are learning nothing, because no taslcs are
assigned them, and no books put into their hands.
But, it ought to be generally understood, that the
art of reading is not the main object of attention
in such seminaries, and that they wouI(i.be of
incalculable importance, even although the child-
ren were unable to recognize a single letter of the
alphabet. At the same time, the knowledge of
the letters and elementary sounds, and the art of
spelling and reading, are acquired in these schools
— almost in the way of an amusement — with more
facility and pleasure than on any plans formerly
adopted.

In throwing out the above remarks, I have all
along taken for granted that infant schools are
conducted by men of prudence and intelligence. It
is not sufficient for insuring the beneficial effects
of these institutions, that the individuals who
superintend them have been instructed in the mode
of conducting their mechanical arrangements.
They ought to be persons of good sense, of benev-
olent dispositions, having their minds thoroughly
imbued with the principles of Christianity, of an
easy, communicative i\ui\, '^nd possessed of all that
knowledge of history, art, and science, which they can
possibly acquire. For no one can communicate
more knowledge to others than what he has him-
self acquired; and no teacher can render a subject
interesting to the younc, unless he has acquired a
conqirehensive and famili ir acquaintance with it.
In order to secure efficient teachers for these estab-
lishments, normal schools, or other seminaries,
would require to be established, in which candi-
dates for the office of infmt teachers might be
instructed, not only in the mode of conducting
such institutions, bat in all the popular branches

S2

ON THE MOilAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

of useful knowledge. For, upon tlic intellit/ence,
as well as the prudence and moral disposition, of
the teachers, the elKciency of infant seminaries
will in a great measure depend.

The first idea of infant schools appears to have
been suggested by the asylums provided by Mr.
Owen, oTNcw Lanark, for the infant children of
the people who were employed at his spinning-
mills. Mr. Buchanan, under whose superintend-
ence they were placed, was soon after invited to
London, and a school was opened under his direc-
tion and management, on Brewer's Green, West-
minster, which was established and patronized by
H. Brougham, Esq., M. P., the Marquis of Lans-
downe,Zachary Macauley, Esq., Benjamin Smith,
Esq., Joseph Wilson, Esq., and about eight or nine
other philanthropic gentlemen. Mr. W'ilson soon
afterward established one at his own expense in
Quaker Street, Spitalfields. He built the school-
room, and supplied everything thatv/as necessary;
and, on the 24th July, 1^20, the school was open-
ed. On the first day, 26 children were admitted,
en the next day 21, and, in a very short time, the
number of children amounted to 220, all of whom
came forward unsolicited. Mr. Wilderspin, who
has since distinguished himself by his unwearied
zeal in promoting the establishment of such insti-
tutions, was appointed teacher. The Rev. Mr.
Wilson, brother to J. Wilson, Esq., above men-
tioned, next established a similar school at Walth-
amstow, of which parish he was vicar; and an
excellent lady, Miss Neave, opened one in Palmer's
village, Westminster, for 160 children. In Dun-
can Street, Liverpool, the Society of Friends estab-
lished, soon after, a very large one, and, in one

day, collected among themselves, for this purpose,
no less than one thousand pounds. All these
schools were attended with complete sncce.«s. A
icw years afterward, namely, on tlie 1st of June,
1824, the Infant School Society was organized,
at a meeting held at Freemason's Hall, London.
The meeting was addressed, and powerful speeches
delivered on the occasion, by the Marquis of Lans-
downe, Mr. Brougham, late Lord Chancellor, Mr.
Smith, M. P., Mr. Wilberforce, Sir J. Mackintosh,
W. Allen, Esq., Dr. Thorp, Dr. Lushington, the
Rev. E. Irving, and others; and, before the meet-
ing had separated, a subscription, amounting to
upward of £700, was collected.

Since the above period, infant schools have been
estiiblished in most of the populous towns, and
even in some of the villages, of the British Empire;
and, wherever they have been conducted with
prudence and intelligence, have uniformly been
accompanied with many interesting and beneficial
effects. They have also been established in many
towns on the continent of Europe, and even in
Southern Africa, and in the Peninsula of Hindos-
tan. The enlightened inhabitants of the North-
ern States of America, who eagerly seize on every
scheme by which moral and intellectual improve-
ment may be promoted, are now rapidly estab-
lishing such institutions, along with Maternal
Associations, throughout every portion of their
increasing and widely-spreading population; and,
I trust, they will soon be introduced into every
nation under heaven. But, before society at
large feel the full influence of such seminaries,
they will require to be multiplied nearly a
hundred-fold beyond the number that oresentlj
exists.

CHAPTER V.

ON SCHOOLS FOR YOUNG PERSONS FROM THE AGE OF FIVE OR SIX, TO THE
AGE OF THIRTEEN OR FOURTEEN YEARS.

During a period of two or three centuries, we
)iave had schools established among us for the in-
struction of the young, during the period of life
to which I now refer. There are few countries in
Europe where such institutions for the instruc-
tion of the great mass of society, are more numer-
ous and respectable than in the island in which we
reside; — and had we not unfortunately stopped
ehortat the very porch of the Temple of Science,
we might by thi.s lime have been as far superior,
in point of intelligence, to every other nation, as
we now are to the savages of Patagonia and New
Zealand. But, what is the amount of all the in-
struction generallj^ furnished at our common ini-
tiatoiy schools? The elements of spelling and pro-
nunciation— a jargon of abstract grammar rules
crammed into the memory without being under-
stood— the art of writing — the capacity of repeat-
ing the vocables of a catechism, — and a mechanical
knowledge of arithmetic, without understanding
the foundation of its rules. This is the sum of
all that tuition which is generally considered as
necessary for enlightening the human mind, and
carrying forward the great body of the commu-
nity in the path of moral and intellectual improve-
ment,— a system of tuition by which the memory

has been tortured, the understanding neglected,
and the benevolent affections left waste and un-
cultivat'^d. The effects it has produced, are visi-
ble to every intelligent mind that looks around
and contemplates the ignorance, servility, and li-
centiousness, which still abound in every depart-
ment of society.

If we, therefore, desire to behold knowledge and
religious principle, more extensively diffused, and
society raised to its highest pitch of improvement,
we must adopt more rational and efiicient plant
than those on which we have hitherto acted, and
extend the objects of education to all those depart-
ments of knowledge in which man is interested,
as a rational, social, and immortal being. — The
following remarks are intended to embody a few
hints in reference to such a system of tuition;
— and, in the first place, I shall attend to the

PLA.V, SITUATION, AND ARRANGEMENT OF SCHOOL-
ROOMS.

The efficiency of anj^ system of intellectual edu-
cation that may be formed, will in some measure
depend upon the situation of school-rooms, and
the ample accommodation afforded for the scholas-

PLAN AND SITUATION OF SCHOOL-ROOMS.

53

tic exercises and amnsements of the young.
Every 8cliool-house should bo erected iu,an airy
and pleasant situation in the outskirts of a town or
village, detaclied from other buildings, with an
ample area arcfnnd it; — and, if possible, should
haveacoiiHnun'ding view of the variegated scenery
both of the earth and of tiie heavens, — to the va-
rious objects of wliich t!ie attention of tiie young
Bhould be occasionally directed, in order to lay a
foundation for general knowledge, and for a ration-
al contemplation of the works of the Almighty.
Both the interior of the school, and the surround-
ing area, should be arranged and fitted up in such
a manner, as to be conducive to the pleasure, the
convenience, and amusement of the young, so that
the circumstances connected with education may
not only be associated with agreeable objects, but
rendered subservient to the expansion of their minds
and to their progress in the path of knowledge.

The following is a rude sketch of vi'hat might
be the plan and accommodations of a village school.
The plot of ground allotted for the establishment,
might be about 180 feet long, by 100 in breadth,
or more or less according to circumstances. Neai--
ly in the center of this plot, the school-house
might be erected, which should contain, at least,
tlie following conveniences: — 1. A large room, or
hall, for general teaching, about 40 feet long, by
30 in breadth, and 12 or 14 feet high. 2. Two
rooms, about 18 feet long, and 15 broad, into
which certain classes may occasionally be sent,
to attend to their scholastic exercises, under the
inspection either of an assistant or of monitors.
3. Two closets, or presses, S T, off the large hall,
about 12 feet, by 4 in breadth, for holding por-
tions of the apparatus, to be afterward described,
for illustrating the instructions coJiimunicated to
:he pupils. 4. At each end of the plot, or play—

H, might be allotted for the classification of cer-
tain plants, as illustrations of some of the princi-
ples of botany. They might be arranged into 24
compartments, as in the figure, each exhibiting a
different class of plants. The remainder of the
plot, p.-irlicularly that portion of it immediately
ill front of the school-house, might be smoothed
and graveled for a play-ground, and he accommo-
dated with a few seats, or forms, and an apparatus
for gymnastic exercises. 6. Behind the building,
two v/uter closets, I K, should be erected, one for
boys, and another for girls, separated by a wall or
partition. The roof of the building should be flat,
and paved with flag-stones, and surrounded with
a parapet, three or four feet high. The pavement
of the roof should be formed so as to have a slight
slope toward one corner, so that the rain which
falls upon it may be collected in a large barrel, or

ground, should be two covered walks, A 13. one
for boys, and another for girls, in which the children
may amuse themselves in the winter season, or
during ruiny weather; and, during winter, a fire
might be kept in them, and a few forms, placed
for the convenience of those who come from a
distance, who may partake of their luncheon, and
enjoy themselves in comfort during the dinner
hour. 5. The spaces C D E F might be laid out
in plots for flowers, shrubs, and evergreens, and a
few for. st trees. A portion of these plots, us G

cistern, placed underneath. An outside stair con-
ducting to the roof may be erected at the poste-
rior part of the building. This flat roof is intend-
ed as a stage, to which the pupils may be occasion-
ally conducted, for the purpose of surveying tlie
terrestrial landscape, of liaving their attention di-
rected to the several objects of which it is com-
posed, and of listening to descriptions of their
nature, positions, properties, and aspects, — and
likewise for the purpose of occasionally surveying
the apparent motions of the stars, and of viewing
the moon and planets through telescopes.

Such are some of the external accommodations
wViich every village school ought to possess. The
plan here presented, is not intended as a model to
be generally copied, but merely as exhibiting the
requisite conveniences and accommodations — the
plan of which may be varied at pleasure, accord-
ing to the taste of architects, or the superintend-
ents of education. The plot of ground should
not, in any case, be much less than what is here
specified; but where ground can be easily procur-
ed, it may be enlarged to an indefinite extent. I
do not hesitate to suggest, that even two or three
acres of land might, with propriety, be devoted to
this object. In this case, it might he laid out in
the form of an ornamental pleasure-ground, with
straight and serpentine walks, seats, bowers, and
the various trees and shrubs peculiar to the cli-
;nyte. In these walks, or bowers, busts might be
placed, of such characters as Bacon, Newton,
Hoyle, Penn, Washington, Franklin, Pascal, How-
ard, Clarkson, Wilberlbrce, and Venning, and par-
liciilarly of those who in early life were distin-
guished for knowledge and virtue. At every short
interval, sentences, expressing some important
truth, or moral maxhn, should be inscribivl on
posts erected for the purpose; such as God is
eren^where present. — His Wisdom and Goodness
shir/fl.'in all his zcorks. — Thou shall lore Ihe Jjord
thy God irith all ihj licart. — Thou shall love thy
nriqhhor as thyself. — Whatsoever ye would that men
should do to you, do ye eoen so to them. — Love yovr
enemies, do c/ood to them that hate ynit, and pray for
those who despitrfully use you. — The Lord is ijood to
all; He maketh his sun to arise on the <xil and on.
the good, and sendeth rain on the just and i!t.r

aA

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

tinjust. — God resistdh the proud, but bestowelh
favor on (he humble. — Lying tips are an abom-
tnaiion to the Lord. — Tlie lip of truth shall be
established Jhrevcr; but lijint/ lips are onlij for
a mmneiit. — To be virtunits, we must strive against
many of our inclinations and desires. — The re-
membrance of virtuous action is the most delightful
consolation of old age. — Anindustrious and virtuous
educaiion of children is a better inheritance than a.
great estate. — The first step to knouie'lge is to be sen-
sible of our own iyucraucc and defects. — Wisdom is
better than riches. — Virtue and good betiamor are
naturally productive of happiness and good fortune.
— The present life is only an introductory scene to a
future and eternal world; and, therefore, the know-
ledge and habits we now acquire sluiuld have a ref-
erence to that endless state which succeeds the pres-
ent, SfC. tSf-c. — Such moral truths and maxhns,
along with brief statements of scientific facts,
should meet the eye of the young in every direc-
tion, so as to be quite familiar to their minds; and
they might occasionally be referred to, and ex-
plained and illustrated, in tiie discipline enforced,
and the instructions communicated in school.

FURNITURE OF THE SCHOOL.

In fitting up the principal apartment of the
school, it may be expedient that the seats be
movable, in order that they may be occasionally
arranged, so that the children may sit in one com-
pact body, with their face^ toward their instructor.
But every^ seat or form should be furnished with
a back, or rail, and a board before, on which the
pupil may lean his arm, and feel quite comforta-
ble and easy; for children very sooii feel cramped
and uneasy, when sitting long on bare forms,
without such conveniences. Every boy should
likewise have a wooden peg, either before or be-
hind him, for hanging his liat and satchel. The
Beats in the two smaller apartments may be fitted
up to accommodate those who are chiefly em-
ployed in writing, arithmetic, or geometry. In
these, and various other arrangements, every mi-
nute circumstance should be attended to, which
may contribute to the convenience and comforta-
ble accommodation of the young, and to the
maintenance of good order and regularity in all
their movements.

Apparatus and Museum. — The principal furni-
ture of every seminary intended for intellectual
instruction should consist of specimens of the
various objects connected with Natural History,
and an apparatus for illustrating the popular
branches of Physical s<;ience. These objects may
be arranged under the usual divisions of Zoology
Botany, and Mineralogy; or in other words. Ani-
mals, Vegetables, and Minerals. Under the first
division may be arranged specimens of such do-
mestic animals as can easily be procured; such
as, the dog, the cat, the hare^ the rabbit, the mole,
the rat, the mouse, the bat, &lc. — the peacock, the
turkey, the partridge, the pigeon, the thrush,
the linnet, the canary, the link, the swallow, the
goldfinch, the chaffinch, &c. — tog<'ther with as
many specimens of lizard'!, serpents, fishes, and
insects, as can be most easily collected and preser-
ved. Those foreign animals, such as the elephant,
the camel, the lion, and the tiger, which cannot
be directly exhibited, may be represented by col-
ored engravings. The leaves of different kinds
of vegetables might be stuck on large sheets of
drawing-paper, and occasionally exhibited for the
purpose of distinguishing the different trees or
shrubs to which they belong — several rare exotic
plants might be kept in flower-pots — and the sev-

eral vegetable pots around the seminary would
furnish various specimens, in their natural statA,
of whi(?ri physiological and botanical descriptions
njight be given. Various fo.ssils and mineral sub-
stances, which can easily be procui»ed, may also be
collected and arranged in classes, — such as, pla-
liiia, silver, mercury, copper, iron, lead, bismuth-
zinc, nickel, manganese, with specimens of theii
ores — chrysolites, garnets, agates, corundunis, jas-
pers— sulphur, carbon, bitumen, amber, caout-
chouc, asphalt, charcoal — quartz, feldspar, horn-
blend, &c. — To these may be added various speci-
mens of artificial objects, and of substances used
in manufactures, as hemp, flax, cotton, silk,
wool, and the various fabrics into which they
are wrought.

The Apparatus may consist of such instru-
ments as the following; — an electrical machine,
an air-pump, a barometer and thermometer, 3
magnetical apparatus, various glass tubes and
vials, for hydros^tatical, pueumatical and chemical
experiments, a telescope, a compound and a solar,
or an oxy-hydrogen microscope, a camera-ob-
scura, concave and convex mirrors, a phantas-
magoria, a sun-dial, a planetarium, a terrestrial
and celestial globe, with large planispheres of the
heavens, — a burning lens or mirror, with various
instruments of recreation on philosophical sub-
jects, such as the optical paradox and deception,
the diagonal opera-glass, the communicative mir-
ror, tho sensitive fishes, the sagacious swan, the
cup of Tantalus, the fountain at command, &c.
Models might also be procured of wind and
water-mills, steam-engines, diving-bells, common
and forcing-pumps, gasometers, and the different
mechanical powers.

In addition to the above, it would be requisite
to procure systematic (sets of well-executed en-
gravings, exhibiting a view of the most striking
phenomena of nature and tlie processes of the
arts, — such as, views of rivers, sea-coasts, islands,
citi^'S, towns, and villages, streets, squares, aque-
ducts, columns, arches, public buildings, rural
landscapes, ranges of mountains, volcanoes, ice-
bergs, basaltic columns, glaciers, caves, grottos,
natural bridges — the operations of brewing, ba-
king, spinning, weaving, pin-making, forging,
glass-blowing, ship-building, &c. — in short, of
every object, natural and artificial, which can
convey to the mind a definite idea of the dilferenl
parts which compose the landscape of the world,
and the operations of human art. Colored maps
of the different poi'tions of the globe, on a large
scale, should likewise accompany such exhibi-
tions, in order that the positions of the countries,
where the different objects are to be found, may
be pointed out. These pictorial representations
may be hung around the walls, or on posts, fitted
up for that purpose, in such numbers as the
alloted spaces will conveniently contain. — The
specimens of natural history may be arranged
around the walls of the school in presses, with
wire or glass doors, so that the greater part
of them may be exposed to view; and the appa-
ratus and other articles may be deposited, when
not in use, in the two large presses or closets
formerly mentioned.

Although the various articles now uUuded to
could not be procured all at once, yet they might
gradually be increased, and a considerable variety
of them would doubtless be obtained in the way
of donations from the private museums of liberal
and philanthropic individuals in the vicinity
around; and many of the little urchins who
attend the school would rejoice in being instru-
mental in adding whatever they could procure

APPARATUS

to augment tlie spleudor and variety of the
museuiii.

Tliere is one very simple instrument, not liith-
erto duly appreciated, which might be rendered
subservient both to the amusement and the in-
struction of the j'oung; and that is, the Optical
Diagonal Machine, for viewing porsj)ective en-
gravings. This instn^nient, as solrl by opticians,
consists of a pedestal, somewhat resembling a
large mahogany candlestick, having a plain mir-
ror and a convex lens, movable at the top. The
print to be viewed is placed on a table, before the
instrument, in an inverted position. But this
form of the instrument generally produces but
a very slender elTect, owing partly to the small
diameter of the lens commonly used, and partly
to tlie circumstance, that the engraving is gi^ne-
rally visible to the eye, at the same time the
observer is viewing its magiiified image through
the machine. To obviate those defects, aboat
seventeen j'ears ago, I fitted up a machine of tills
kind on another and more simple plan, of which
the following is a brief descrii)tion. It consists
of the following parts: — 1. A box made of thin
deal, 2 feet deep, 2 feet long, and 1 foot broiid,
open in front. 2. In the side opposite to the
opening, and near the top, a circular hole, about
6 inches in diameter, is cut, into which a tube
containing the lens is put, capable of being
move^ an inch or two backward or forwar.i.
The convex lens is by^ inches diameter, and 20
inches focal distance, and its center is about 20
inches above the bottom of the box. 3. The
reflecting mirror — which is 12 '.^ inches long and
8 inches broad, and which should be formed of
the best English plate glass — the longest dimension
being perpendicular to the horizon. This mirror
is suspended, immediately before the lens, on two
pieces of wood connected with a cross-bar, which
is capable of being moved backward or forward
to its proper distance from the lens; and the mir-
ror itself moves on two pivots like a connnon
dressing- glass, so as to stand at any required an-
gle. When the instrument is properly adjusted,
the mirror should stand at half a right angle to
the horizon. The top of the box opens by means
of a hinge, to afford a facility for adjusting the
mirror. The perspective vi .ws are placed on the
bottom of the box, parallel with the horizon, and
in an inverted position with respect to the eye
of the observer. The engravings should be at
least 17 inches long and 11 inches broad, exclu-
sive of the margins, and colored after nature. —
This instrument, thus fitted up, is greatly superior
to the one commonly in use, as nothing is seen
but the magnified image of the objects, and no
conception can be formed of them to distract the
attention, until the observer actually looks through
the instrument. Every person who has looked
through this instrument, has at once admitted its
superiority to those of the common construction,
and many individuals have got similar machines
fitted up after this pattern. It may be fitted up
at an expense not exceeding eighteen or twenty
shillings; that is, nine shillings for the lens, seven
shillings for the mirror, and two or three shillings
for the box.

The following figures will convey some idea
of tiiis construction of the instrument. Fig. 1
represents a profile of the machine, one of the
sides of the box being supposed to be removed.
A is the mirror, stan<ling at half a right angle to
the len.g and the picture, with its back turned to
the eye. B is the lens, fixed either in a tube or
in a hole cut out of the side of the box next the
eye. C D is the bottom of the bo.\, ou which i

FOR SCHOOLS.
Fig. 1.
£

56

Fig 2.

C D

tlie perspectives are placed. E F is the top of
the box, from which the mirror is suspended.
Fig. 2 represents a view of the back of tlie box,
or that part which is next the eye wiien the ob-
server is viewing the prints, in which L represents
the lens by which the prints are magnified.

There is one glaring defect in the exhibitions
made with this instrument, which has never yet
been attempted to be remedied; and that is, that
in every landscape the r%if(d side ,of the view ap-
pears where the lejt should be, which presents a
confused and unnatural view, particularly of those
objects and scenes with which we are acquainted.
This defect may be remedied by cutting out or
etching the landscape on the coppci-plate — not
re\:ersed, as is always done, but in its natural posi-
tion; in which case, the engravings, when thrown
off, v/ould be reversed, like the picture formed by
the common camera-obscura. Such engravings,
when used for the Optical Diiigonal Slachiue,
would represent objects exactly in their natural
positions; and if the true perspective of a street,
a large liall, or a landscape, be accurately deline-
ated, the scene will appear almost as natural and
interesting as if we were viewing it from the
point whence the picture was taken. As there
are thousands of perspectives engraven expressly
for this machine, I would hainbly suggest to en-
gravers and print-sellers the propriety of having
such engravings etched on the plan now proposed.
The fineness of the engraving is of very little con-
sequence in such views, provided the perspective
has been accurately attended to; but the coloring
should be light and natural, and very different
from the glaring and clumsy daubings which ap-
pear in most of tlie perspectives which are sold
for the use of this machine.

Such are some of the objects and external ac-
commodations which might be procured for every
village school. Such a school would form a strik-
ing contrast to most of the schools which exist
in our country, particularly those which are
found in many of our cities and towns, pent up
in narrow closes and lanes, in the midst of filth,
noise and gloom, destitute of pure air, where the
children are packed liked hounds in a kennel,
cramped in their movements, and can_ scarcely
find a passage from one part of the school-room
to another, and where no objects of delight arrest
their curiosity and enliven their spirits. Instead
of such scanty and wretched accommodations —
which may be considered as so many juvenile
prison-houses, to which the young are frequently
driven by dint of force — we should thus have it
in our power to introduce thein into a kind of
magnificent museum, where every object would
excite curiosity and arrest attention. Instead of
associating with scholastic exercises the ideas of
tasks, stripes and imprisonment, we should thiia
present to their view a delightful avenue and por-
tal to t]ie Temple of Knowledge, which wouW

56

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

excite a spirit of observation, rouse thuir intellec-
tual eneigii.'s, and produce a liigli degree of plea-
sure and enjoyment. And notliiiig can be of
more importance to the best interests of the
younir, and to the cause of the universal diffusion
of knowledge, than to strew the path of science
with llowers of every hue, and to render all the
early associations connected with it exhilarating
and cheerful. The road which leads to knowledge,
moral virtue, happiness, and the higher enjoy-
ments of the life to come, ought undoubtedly to
wear a bright and alluring aspect, and to be di-
vested of every object which has the appearance
of aust<;rity or gloom.

In towns, a number of these schools might be
connected together in one large square or build-
ing, surrounded with as extensive a space as can
be procured, forming one grand seminary, where
children of ail ranks niiglit associate without dis-
tinction in their amusements and scholastic exerci-
ses. The amusements and the e.xercises of such
numerous groups of the young, both within and
Without doors, would form a lively and interesting
spectacle to every philantliropist ; and public
schools, when p»oper!y situated, and governed on
Christian principles, so far from being a nuisance
to the ncighbojhood, as they are generally consid-
ered, would constitute one of the best ornameiits,
and the most delightful scenes, connected with
general society. Where large towns diverge into
extensive suburbs, a variety of distinct semina-
ries might be erected at proper distances from
each other, to accommodate the inhabitants of the
adjacent district, so that the children would not
require to go too great a distance from their
homes.

SCHOOL-BOOKS.

There are few things of more importance in
the arrangements connected with education than
the judicious selection and compilation of the
Books intended to be put into the hands of the
young. I have already offered a few strictures
on the inefliciency of the school-books which
have been most generally in use in our borough
and parochial schools; and although of late years
several improved school-collections have been
introduced, scarcely any have yet appeared com-
pletely adapted to an intellectual system of tui-
tion. Tlie following general princijdes ought to
be recognized in tlie compilation of every class-
book for the use of schools: —

1. That the subjects introduced be level to the
comprehension of those for whose use the book is
intended.

2. That every article it contains be calculated
to covcey some portion nf tiseful knoioledcie.

3. That the selections in general have a mnral
tendency, and that everything that might foster a
spirit of pride, avarice, ambition or warfare, be
carefully excluded.

4. That moral and physical facts should form a
prominent feature in such books, and mcTefciions
be entirely discarded.

5. That the lessons be so constructed, that
every sentiment and description mav produce an
accurate and tcell- defined idea in the minds of the
young.

These rules proceed on the assumption, that
the communication of ideas — the elements nf thought
— and the fcrviaiion of moral character, are the
great and ultimate objects of education.

In the first hooks put into the hands of children,
the lessons should be so constructed that the lend-
ing ideas they contain, or the objects they describe,

may he immediaiehj pointed out, either by means of
the specimens contained in the museum, by pictoria
representaliovR, or by the objects around them in tlie
scene of nature; so that every word, or at least
every description contained in the lesfon, may be
associated in the mind of the child witii the idea
of its objects. Hence the propriety. In the first
instance, of restricting the descriptive lesscne
solely to sensible objects. It is through the medi-
um of the senses that the elements of all our
knowledge are derived. We perceive, in the
first instance, a variety of objects which immedi-
ately surround us, and gradually become ac-
quainted with some of their qualities. As we
advance in life, and mingle in society, and make
excursions from one place to another, the num-
ber of our perceptions is indefinitely increased.
We have the power of presenting to the view of
the mind the images or ideas of these objects at
pleasure, even when the objects which first pro-
duced them are removed. Those ideas are no-
thing else than renewed representations of what
we have at any time perceived or felt through the
medium of the organs of sensation. Having re-
ceived such impressions or ideas, the mind has the
faculty of contemplating them at pleasure, whe-
ther their objects be present or absent — of com-
bining them together, of compounding and de-
compounding them, and of modifying, comparing,
and examining them, in an infinite variety of
lights; by which means it is enabled to enlarge
the objects of its perceprion and contemplation,
and to acquire an inexhaustible treasure of other
ideas, distinct from the former, though necessa-
rily resulting fron» them. Such is the origin and
progress of all our knowledge — and thus the human
mind pursues its course from simple perceptions
and tnins of ideas, and from one discovery and
chain of reasoning to another, until it rises from
the first dawnings of reason to the full blaze of
intellectual light, and to the hight of moj-al im-
provement.

These considerations evidently point out the
mode in wliich instruction ought to be communi-
cated, and the objects toward which the youthful
mind should, in the first instance, be directed —
for want of attention to which, many of our
school-books are nearly as inefficient for the pur-
pose intended as if they had been written in a
foreign language. I have just now lying before
me two initiatory books lately published, entitled,
"First" and "Second Books for Children," in
W'hich there is not a single senteacc conveying
the idea of a sentiment or fact, nor even a single
word, that will produce an idea in the mind of a
child — every page being completely occupied with
such sounds as these — " gra, ere, dre, dro — gafT,
puff, grofF, snifF — gyve, gyre, gibe — baffle, socle,
struga-le, &.C. &c. Such books can never bo in-
teresting to the young, and must present to their
view nothing but a bleak and thorny path to the
temple of knowledge. Nor will such vague sen-
tences as the following, with which our primers
abound, produce a much better effect: — " My son.,
walk not in the way of bad men; for bad men go
on in sin all the day. — Set thy heart on the right
way, and mind the law of the Lord. — Do not
break the laws of God, and shun the ways thai
lead to death," &c. Such somber sentiment?
and exhortations, however sound the morality
they inculcate, can never produce a well-defined
idea in the mind of a child, or excite to moral ac-
tion, and consequently cannot have the effect of
producing pleasing emotions and a taste for
knowledge. — Every sentence of a child's lesson
should convey to his mind a picture or represcn-

MODE OF TEACHING MORALITY.

57

tation of some object; and it is quite possible to
Bccomplisii tiiis end, by simplifying our descrip-
tions, and selecting those sensible objects which
are calculated to attract attention, and which may
be presented to the view. For example: —

" The sr.n shines. Tlie sky is bhie, when it is not cover-
ed with clouds. The stars shine forth at night, i^now is
white. Rain comes trom the clouils. (joid is yellow; silver is
white; copper is red. Lead is heavy; cork is li^lit; coal is
black. Trees grow in the fields; they have rools,braiiches and
leaves, flowers grow in the fields and gardens; some of
them are red, some are white, some arc yellow, others are
blue. Corn grows in the fields; when it is ripe it is cut down,
and ground into meal, and then baked into hrrad. A dog has a
head, two ears, four feet, and a tail. A bird has a beal;,
two eyes, two wings, two legs, and a tail; it is covered with
feathers, it chirrups and sings, and tlics through the air.
When we strike a small bell with a key, it sends forth a
sound. When we shut our eyes, all appears dark around
us, and we can see nothing. When we open our eyes, we
can see the sky, the clouds, the fields, the trees, the houses;
and men, women, and children, walking along the road, or
sitting in the school. The sun rises in the east, and when
B, be rises it is day; when he sets in the west, it is night, and
" the stars appear in the sky. The sun shines upon the trees,
the houses, and the water, and everything looks bright and
beautiful when he shines upon it. He shines in all coun-
tries, over all the earth. He is so bright, that we cannot bok
at him, but when he is covered with thin clouds. If you
lake a piece of red or grei-n "lass, and hold it between
yonr eye and the sun, you may look at him without hurting
your eves. The sun gives us light and heat, and he is the
most bright and glorious work of Uod that can be seen in
the whole world," &c.

Such simple lessons may be made to produce a
well-defined idea in the mind of every child, by
exhibiting to his view, at the moment he is read-
ing, tlie very object which his lesson describes;
and if the object is not present, it tnay be repre-
sented by an engraving. When his lesson states
that "lead is heavy, and cork is light," a piece
of cork and a piece of lead of the same size may
be put into his hands, whicli will not only con-
vince him of the fact, but will enable Itim after-
ward to recognize these circumstances. When
he reads that "a bell, when struck by a piece of
iron, produces a sound," the experiment may be
e.xhibited before him — which circumstances will
have a powerful tendency to arrest his attention,
and keep alive his interest in the subject of his
lessons.

The first class-books for schools should, there-
fore, be confined chiefly to descriptions of the
appearances and qualities of such objects as may
bee.vhibited to the senses of children, and instantly
associat«.-d with the vocables of which their les-
sons consist. Descriptions of the form and habits
of animals, such as the dog, the cow, the ass. the
mole, the elephant, the rein-deer, the camelopard,
&c. — of rte^eta hies, the parts of which they con:-ist,
the places where tliey grow, the manner in
which they are produced and cultivated, tiieir
fruits and flowers, and numberless varieties — of
viinerah, their various qualities, colors, and ap-
pearances, the pkices whence they are procured,
the processes through which they pass, and the
uses to which they are subservient in human life
— might form one department of an initiatory
class-book. Descriptions of the more obvious
phenomena of nature, such as the apparent mo-
tions of the heavens, the rising and setting of the
eun, the phases of the moon, the movements and
aspect of the clouds, the phenome.ia of thunder
and lightning, winds, rain, hail and snow; the
most striking objects which appear in tov/ns,
"illages, and throughout the fields, on hiilp,
mountains, valleys, rivers, and sea-coasts — might
form another dejjartment of a school-book; care
being taken that the descriptions be sufKciently
Bimpie and vivid, and that long and hard words bo

as much as possible avoided. Descriptions of
some of the innocent games and amusements of
the young, accompanied with delinealions of
some of them, might likewise be introtiuced. As
a supplement or companion to a bonk of this kind,
descriptions migiit be given of the particular ob-
jects connected with the locality in which tho
school is situated. In the first place, the Bcliool
itself, with the various objects it contains; the
trees, flowers, and shrubbery which surround it;
the roads, streets, lanes and walks, and the most
remarkable public buildings it contains — might
be jiarticularly described, and the descriptions ac-
companied with a plan or map of the place and
its vicinity, and views of the most interesting ob-
jects, rural and architectural, which are connected
with it. Such descriptions would alv/ays be
read with interest by the young, and would e.xcite
them to habits of observation and reflection,
beside affording them materials for conversation
in their social walks and intercourses Children
are always extremely fond of having their ideas
of sensible objects enlarged, and view, with a
great degree of interest and pleasure, the repre-
sentations of them in well-e.xcuted engravings.
Yet, strange to tell, wh^n I attended school, it
would have been considered, as a crime to have
looked into a book which contained engravings.
I recollect of a boy having brought to school a
copy of "The Three Hundred Aiihnals," but it
was carefully concealed from the teaclier, and
from most of the scholars, through fear of pun-
ishment. We were so an.xious, however, to see
the novel figures it contained — the magnified pic-
ture of the louse and the flea, the bee-hive, the
peacock, tlie elephant, and the whale — that we
gave pins, marbles, cherry-stones, gooseberries,
and even sometimes a whole halfpenny, to the
proprietor, for half an hour's perusal of it.^

Some persons will perhaps be disposed to ob-
ject, that such lessons as I now allude to are
either trifling, or, at least, not so important as the
moral lessons generally introduced into our initia-
tory books. In reply to such an insinuation, it
may be sufficient to say, that it can never be
unimportant to convey a well-defined idea of any
object worthy of being known, to the mind of a
child, if it is admitted that the great object of
education is to communicate the elements of
thought. And as to producing moral impres-
sions, every pious and intelligent teacher has an
opportunity afforded of impressing the minds of
his pupils with a sense of the Goodness, Omni-
presence, and Agency of God, every time he is
teaching a lesson which is descriptive of the works
of nature. Morality can never be effectually
taught to the young by vague exhortations, and
general rules and maxims, — more es[)ecially when
such exhortations are not thoroughly understood.
If we wish to impress the youthful mind with
the odiousness of vice, and the excellence of vir-
tue, we must fix upon particular actions, apply to
them moral rules or precepts, and illustrate, by
familiar examples, their nature and tendency.
Every teacher has daily an opportunity of direct-
ing the attention of his pupils to certain actions,
both good and bad, which appear in their general
conduct; and the judicious remarks he makes on
the temper and dispositions manifested by par-
ticular individuals, will make a more definite
and lasting impression upon the minds of the
young than can be produced by the mere reading
or repetition of moral maxims or general rules.
And every child who has been regularly taught
to understand every sentence he reads, and to
exercise his judgment upon it, will undoubtedly

58

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

be better prepared tlian others for forming a judg- |
meiit of ti.e propriety or impropriety of certain
nionil aetions, wlien they are exi)i;iiiied to him
with simplicity and cleiirnesg. In a more ::J-
vanced staije of education, however, moral le:^-
sons, accompanied with examples of virlm^s and
vices, may with great propriety be introduced.

Some may likewise be disposed to inquire whe-
ther I intend to set aside exercises on the powers
of the letters and the elementary sounds. Al-
though I do not attach so much importance to
such exercises as lias generally been done, yet I
%vould not altogether set them aside. Lists of
monosyllables, exemplifying the long and short
sounds of the vowels, and the pronunciation pe-
culiar to certain combinations of the consonants,
might be pasted upon cards, and hung up in view
of the ditierent classes; on which they might be
occasionally exercised, rather as a kind of inter-
lude or amusement than as a serious task. But
it appears quite preposterous to confine a child for
four or five months to the pronunciation of mere
sounds, to which no ideas are attached. And,
from a good deal of experience, I am convinced
that the true pronunciation of words is to be ac-
quired more from reading interesting lessons, and
from the occasional remarks of tlie teacher on
particular sounds as they occur, than by long and
tedious exercises on the orthography of the lan-
guage.

In a more advanced stage of education, after
tlie pupil has read two or three small volumes
consisting of such easy descriptive pieces as those
alluded to above, a volume consisting of selections of
a higher order may be put into his hands. So early
as the year 1809, I had formed, and partly exe-
cuted, the plan of a volume of this description,
calculated to excite the attention of the young, to
convey real knowledge to their minds, and to
render the exercise of reading pleasant and profi-
table. In some papers connected with this pro-
jected work, I find the following " General out-
line of Contents."

1. Short and familiar lessons. 2. Narratives
of real occurrences and facts. 3. Juvenile biog-
raphy— comprising anecdotes and lives of young
persons who had made early progress in know-
ledge: early life of Sir I. Newton, of Ferguson
the astronomer, of Pascal, Gassi^ndi, Grotius,
Grichton, Horrox, Baratiere, &c. &c. 4. Selec-
tions from Sacred History: History of the crea-
tion and fall of man — of the deluge — of the de-
struction of Sodom — of the lives of Abraham,
Isaac, Jacob, .Toseph, Moses, and Samuel, — of the
deliverance of the Israelites from Egypt, and the
leading events which befell them in the wilder-
ness and in Canaan — of the life and translatiou
of Elijah — of the deliverances of Jonah, Daniel,
Shadrach, Meshech, and Abednego ; Paul, Peter,
&c. — of the circumstances which attended the
birth, transfiguration, crucifixion, resurrection
and ascension of Jesus Christ, and the preaching
of the Apostles — with illustrative remarks and
observations, a map of the land of Judea, plans
of the tabernacle and temple, and figures of the
sacred utensils and vestments used in the Jewish
worship. 5. Descriptions of ohjects connected ivith
Natural History and Natural Philosophy: Forms,
hnbifs, and instincts of animals, with anecdotes;
Natural curiosities — such as basaltic columns,
boiling springs, icebergs, glaciers, volcanoes, whirl-
pools, natural bridges, subterranean caverns. Ban-
ian tree, &,c.; Brief description of the parts and
functions of the human body — the organs of
sense, and the different kinds of knowledge they
commucicate. Phenomtna of Nature in the at-

mosphere and the heavens : Properties of air—
wiight and [jressure of the atjnosphere, with do
scriptions of a few simple illustrative experiments
Descriptions of thuntler-storms, luminous anc
liory meteors, the aurora-borealis, the clouds, the
rainbow, the ignis-fatuus, rain, hail, dew, water
spouts, hurricanes, sounds and echoes ; Dcscrip
tions of the mechanical powers — of electrical
magnetical, and optical instruments — of the ap-
parent motions of the heavenly bodies — of tho
more interesting phenomena connected with the
earth, and the other bodies which compose the
solar system, &c. 6. Illustrations and descriptions
of certain arts and trades: Pin-making, weaving,
printing, paper-making, glass-blowing, &c. 7.
Useful hints on various subjects: On taking care
of books — cautions respecting the preservation
of health — the dangers arising from fire, confin-
ed air, noxious gases — the prevention of acci-
dents and infectious diseases — rules for the pro-
motion of order, cleanliness and activity ; for
cookingVictuals,eradicating stains, nursing child-
ren, washing, dressing, laying out garden plots,
and for promoting domestic economy — character-
istics of poisonous plants, cautions in relation to
unripe fruits, &c. &c. 8. Sliort moral maxims,
pithy sayings, and rules for the general regulation
of conduct. 9. Dialogues: "The little Philosopher,"
"The King and the Miller," &c. 10. Cusl07ns and
manners of nations. Sketch of Geography, — de-
scriptions of cities, towns, and remarkable places.
11. Entertaining cx/^mmente, magnetical, electri-
cal, pneumatical, galvanic, mechanical, chemical,
&c. 12. Juvenile amusements: flyiag the kite, lives,
peg-top, swinging, bathing, &c., with cautionary
maxims. 1.3. Select Poetry, consisting only of
pieces interesting to the young, and level to their
capacity. 14. Lessons in written characters, for
habituating children to read manuscripts and
epistolary correspondence. 15. List of names
and qualities of natural and artificial objects, as
exercises in spelling: during which, short de-
scriptions might be given of the nature and pro-
perties of the different objects whose names
are proposed as spelling exercises. 16. List of
Greek and Latin primitives and prepositions, with
examples of their meaning, and the effect of their
composition in English words. 17. Definitions
of scientific terms, and of the more difficult words
which occur in the lessons. 18. Tables of money,
weights and measures, with illustrations of the
value of coins, the capacity of measures, linear
dimensions, &lc. 19. A general set of queries, re-
ferring to some of the principal subjects described
in the lessons.

Such was the outline of a class-book which
was intended to be published six and twenty j-ears
ago. One peculiarity by which it was intended
to be distinguished, was — that a set of questions
without ansioers, bearing on every particular object
and circumstance detailed, was to be appended to
each lesson, for exercising the attention and judg-
ment of the pupil, previous to his being examined
on the subject. The various subjects introduced
were intended to bo partly original composi-
tion, partly compilations, and partly selections,
abridged, modified, or altered, to suit the object
in vii^w. Fables and fictitious stories were to bo
entirely discarded, and the leading facts to be
illustrated by engravings. After composing a
preface or introduction, showing the utility of
such a work, and obviating objections th;it might
be made to its plan, and having proceeded a cer-
tain length in its compilation, I was induced to
lay aside the design, in con.sequence of tho apathy
and indifference of most of the teachers 1 con-

QUALITIES OF SCHOOL BOOKS.

59

▼ersed with on th.3 subject. Some of thom who
stood high on the nuilis of city and parochial
school inaslcrs told nic plainly, that thuy consid-
ered it as no part of their duty to leach their
pupils anvlhiugbut reading or firoiiiiriciation, and
that if their parents wished them to understand
what they read, they might teach them at home.
Sucii a scliool-book is still a desideratum, not-
withstanding some improvements which have
lately been made in school-collections. Whether
it would be expedient to publish such a work at
the present time, the public must determine. If
properly executed, it would require a considerahle
degree of labor and research, a discriminating
judgment, a familiar acqujiialance with the
tastes and dispositions of the young, a talent for
simplifying descriptions, and rendering them per-
spicuous to a youthful understanding. Such a
book could not be constructed either by the scis-
sors, or by merely copying or abridging pieces
from various authors; but by entering thoroughly
into the spirit of every subject, and modifying it
in such a manner as to interest the affections,
and to convey well-defined ideas to the minds of
those for whose improvement it is intended. The
formation of the questions on each lesson would
requi-p a considerable share of judgment and dis-
crimination, so as to render them perspicuous
and specific. Most of the questions of this kind
which have been attempted in certain school-
books, are so general and vague, that they serve
110 useful purpose either to teacher or scholar,
and are frequently so worded ana arranged, that
a pupil might find out the answers without un-
derstanding them or exercising his own judg-
ment. It is, unquestionably, an eligible plan, in
every department of learning, to have sets of
questions without answers, bearing on every
branch of study. Such questions tend to excite
the curiosity of the pupil, to exercise his judg-
ment, and to arrest his attention to the subject;
and the finding out of the proper answers affords
him a certain degree of pleasure. They are also
of utility to the teacher, and may suggest to him
numerous other subordinate questions connected
with the subject. The old plan of constructing
books by way of " Question and Answer," and
causing the vocables of the different answers to be
committed to memory without being understood, is
too absurd to require a moment's consideration.

It will be admitted, I presume, by every in-
telligent person, that a class-book, judiciously
arranged and executed, and comprising such sub-
jects as above stated, would be far more inter-
esting to the young, and calculated to convey to
their minds a much greater portion of useful
information, than all the "Beauties of eminent
Writers," " Speeches in the Roman Senate,"
"English Readers," " Tyro's Cluides," and "Ora-
torical Class-books," which have been so long in
use in our English schools. Such a book should
contain hints and sketches of everything that
has a tendency to expand the intellectual views,
and which may be applied to useful practical
purposes in the several departments of human
life, and be completely purified from everything
that might produce national prejudice and jiar-
tiaiity, the spirit of contention and warfare, and
the indulgence of selfish and malignant affections
—in short, a book which might be read with
pleasure by the young who understood its lan-
guage, in every nation of the world, ki the
hands of a judicious teacher, every idea itVon-
tained might be communicated to the understand-
ings of the pupils; and, as early impressions are

the most lasting, the sentiments conveyc^d, and
the impressions thus made upon the mint!, could
not fail to be of incalculable service to tlu'wi
throughout the whole course of their lives. The
foundation of useful knowledge would be laid,
and a taste for intellectual pleasures induced,
which would stimulate them to still higher ]iur-
suits and investigations as they advanced in life.
Nor neeJ we have the least fear that children, at
an early age, would be incapable of acquiring
such knowledge as that to which I allude. If
they have not hitherto acquired it, it is because
such knowledge as they were capable of acqui-
ring has seldom been judiciously presented before
them. We have compelled them to " feed upon
ashes" — we have offered them "scorpions" in-
stead of "eggs," and "stones" instead of "bread;"
and because they were unable to masticate and
digest such substances, we have deprived them of
wholesome and nutritious food, and wondered
why they have not been strengthened and invigo-
rated. VVhcn truth is simplified by familiar illus-
trations taken from objects with which they are
acquainted, and confirmed by appeals to theii
senses, they imbibe it with avidity, and frequently
retain the impressions thus made to the latest
period of their existence. The celebrated Fenelon
has obsen'ed, that " Before they are thought ca-
pable of receiving any instruction, or the least
pains taken with them, they learn a language.
Many children at four years of age can speak
their mother tongue, though not with the same
accuracy or grammatical precision, yet with
greater readiness and fullness than most scholars
do a foreign language after the study of a whole
life." Tliis circumstance certainly indicates no
small degree of intellectual energy and acumen.
And to this I may add, that they discover their
intellectual powers by connectir.g the idea with
the sign of it, and acquire many notions of good
and evil, right and wrong, in that early period of
life. Such are their powers of discrimination,
that they can distinguish the characters and dis-
positions of those with whom they associate, and
frequently know the tempers and weaknesses of
their parents much better than the parents knovi^
theirs, and are dextrous enough to avail them-
selves of that knowledge in order to obtain their
desires and gratify their humors.

A third series of school-hooks might consist of
popular systc^ns of sciences, and descriptions in
relation to the mechanical and liberal arts. The
fundamental principles and the most interesting
facts connected with botany, mineralogy, zoology,
geography, geology, geometry, astronomy, experi-
mental philosophy and chemistry — and likewise
those connected with the arts of weaving, book-
binding, printing, clock and watch making, brass-
founding, carpentry, &c.' — might be familiarly
detailed, and illustrated with as many plans and
engravings as the different subjects might require.
The general knowledge of the sciences, which
the pupil would acquire from such compilations,
v.'ou Id prepare him for afterward entering on the
study of particular sciences, when their princi-
ples and applications would be illustrated in more
minute detail. The sketches of the dilferent arts
and trades would unfold to him some of the lead-
ing processes and operations peculiar to the sev-
eral mechanical employments, and lead him to
determine which of these would bo most conge-
nial to his own taste and genius. — In compiling
such sketches of the sciences and arts, a consid-
erable degree of knowledge, taste, and discrimina-
tion, would be requisite. Everything that is
intricate or abstruse, or not level to the compio-

60

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

honsion of young people from tho ngo of ten to
the ago of fourteen years, slioulil be omitted.
Vivid and fainiliur descriptions of facts and sce-
nery, details of interesting cxperinionts, and en-
gravings of natural and artilicial objects, should
accompany the explanations of the fundamental
princijiles of the liitFerent sciences. In short,
cverylJiing should be introduced w!dc!i can be
illustrated by sensible objects, and everything
discarded which the senses cannot easily appre-
ciate. Mere skeletons of the sciences would be
quite uninteresting, and would produce no good
eiiect. If any particular sci.nco could not be
compreheusively illustrated in the space allotted
for its details, a selection of Its more prominent
and popular departments might be substituted,
whicii would be quite sufficient for communica-
ting a general view of the subject, and inducing
a taste fur its further prosecution at a future
period — which is all that is requisite to be aimed
at in the first exhibition of science to the youth-
ful mind.

Another class of scliool-books might be chiefly
Historical. These should comprise a lucid and
comprehensive view of the leading events which
have happened from the creation to the present
time, omitting those details which would either
be improper to bo exhibited, or which might prove
uninteresting to the young. As a supplement to
such a work, a more detailed history might be
given of the particular nation or country in
which the school is situated. — In compiling such
historical works, great caution is requisite that no
scenes be exhibited, and no sentiments inculcated,
that would pollute the minds of the young, or
foster malignant affections. Many of our histo-
rians detail the convulsions of nations, and the
horrid scenes of devastation and carnage, with a
revolting degree of apathy, without interweaving
any retiections tending to show tlie folly and
wickedness of war, and. to denounce those malig-
nant passions from which it springs. Nay, we
freqiHMitly find the writings of historians abound-
ing with panegyrics on public robbers and desper-
adoes, encomiums on war and on warriors, and
designating the worst enemies of the human race
as patriots and illustrious heroes. Hence it has
happened, that the study of history, instead of
leading the mind to contemplate the" character of
the Moral Governor of the world, and the retri-
butions of his providence, and to mourn over the
malevolent passions and the depravity of man —
has not unfrequently tended to excite desires after
the acquisition of false glory, and to cherish a
spirit of contention and warfare, — the effects of
which are visible, even at the present moment,
in the ambitious projects which tire carrying for-
ward by haughty despots and their obsequious
ministers, and in the devastations which are com-
mitting, and tho contests which are taking place,
in almost every region of the globe. If we wish
to counteract the effects of pagan maxims and
morality, and to imbue the minds of our youth
whh Christian principles and feelings, we must
carefully guard against the influence of such anti-
christian sentiments. The history of all nations
ought to be considered, not merely as the exploits
of kings and heroes, but as the Jnstory of the pro-
vidential disi)ensations of the Ahiiqhty toward the
human race, audthe history of the moral character of
mankind. We should study it, not merely or chiefly,
for the purpose of admiring and imitating the ex-
plo.ts of those who have been extolled as illustrious
characters (for there are few of them whose deeds
deserve our imitation) — but for expanding our
views of the character and moral government of

the Ruler of the Universe — for confirming tho
represoitations given in the Scriptures of th«
depravity of man — and for exciting an abhorrence
of those lawless ])assions and deeils of injustice,
which have covered the earth with carnage and
desolation, and entailed misery upon the race of
man. If we wish to study patterns of moral vir-
tue worthy of imitation, we have the example of
Jesus Christ set before us, as the pattern of every
excellence, " who was holy, harmless, and unde-
filed," — "who did no sin, neither was guile found
in his mouth; who, when he was reviled, reviled
not again; when he sulTend he threateneil not, but
committed his cause to him who judgeth right-
eously." We have likewise tlio examples of his
holy prophets and apostles, men as far superior
in their moral principles and conduct to the most
distinguished sages of Greece and Rome, as the
Christian religion is superior to all the systems of
theology in the pagan world. — In compiling his-
tories for the young, the historian ought, there-
fore, to pause at certain periods and events, and
direct the attention of his readers to what is moral
or inmioral in the actions detailed, to what is
worthy of being approved or condemned in the
scenes described, as determined by the principles
and rules of Christianity. He should direct th»
attention of the young to the scenes of horror
which a spirit of ambition and revenge has crea-
ted, to the malignant passions it has engendered,
and to its contrariety to the spirit of true religion
and the best interests of man. He should lead
them to remark the justice and long-sulFering of
the Governor of the world — the retributions of
his providence in the case of nations and individ-
uals— the accomplishment of Divine predictions —
and the evidences which the records of history
afford, that man is no longer in a paradisiacal con-
dition, but has fallen from his high estate. In
short, he should direct their views to the means
by which the spirit of warfare may be counter-
acted and destroyed, — to the happy scenes which
would be realized were a spirit of philanthropy to
reign triumphant, — and to that glorious era, fore-
told by ancient prophets, when the nations "shall
beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears
into pruning-hooks, and learn the art of war no
moie." Were history studied in connection with
such views and instructions, — instead of fostering
malignant passions — it might become a handmaid
to science and religion, and be rendered subser-
vient for directing the mind to the Great Ruler
of the nations, and the plans of his moral govern-
ment, and for stimulating the exercise of those
benevolent affections by which the tribes of man-
kind may be united in harmony, and the world
restored to tranquillity and repose.

All the class-books now described should be
embellished with engravings, wherever they ap-
pear requisite for illustrating the descriptions con-
tained in the text. The subjects of such engrav-
ings should not only be accurately delineated, but
delicately colored after nature, so as to convey, as
nearly as possible, a correct and vivid impression
of the objects intended to be represented. No-
thing is more pleasing and gratifying to the young
than accurate engravings of the objects about
which they read, and nothing has a greater tend-
ency to convey well-defined ideas of those objects
which are not present to the senses, and to im-
press them indelibly upon the imagination. But
we have hitherto had no school-books embellished
with such engravings as those to which I allude.
The expense of such books might probably be ob-
jected to, as an argument against their introduc-
tion. But if the great end of education be car©-

LESSONS FOR JUVENILE CLASSES.

61

fully kept in view, and the importance of convey-
ing clear and comprehensive ideas to the rising
generation be duly weighed, no considerations of
expense ought tt) deter us from the execution of
any plan by which instruction in tlie elements oj
thought may bo rendered delightful and eihcient.
Society, if once aroused to consider the impor-
tance of an enlightened education, would find no
difficulty in defraying every expense connected
with its arrangements. If such books were in
universal request, and, consequently, many tliou-
Bands of them thrown off at one impression, they
might be afforded at a price very little higher than
tliat of the paltry and ineflicient class-books
which have been so long in use in our scholastic
establishments.

The series of books now described should be
accompanied with dictionaries, and other books of

reference, for obtaining definitions of words and
descriptions of tho objects of nature and the
terms of science and art. These dictionaries,
alono- with clear definitions of English words and
synonymes, should contain short definitions of
Latin," Greek, and French primitives and phrases,
particularly those which have been adopted into
our language, and which, in composition, modify
the meaning of many of our own words. The
Latin and Greek prepositions should be explained,
and their force in the composition of Eugli.sh
words, and in the terms of art and science, parti-
cularly illustrated. Portable cyclopedias or tech-
nological dictionaries, with numerous illustrative
cuts, such as Crabb's " Dictionary of General
Knowledge," would likewise be highly requisite
for the occasional use of the higher or primary
classes, in all our schools.

CHAPTER VI.

METHOD OF TEACHING, AND THE DEPARTMENTS OF KNOWLEDGE WHICH
SHOULD BE TAUGHT IN EVERY SEMINARY.

The teacher being understood to have a school
furnished with the accommodations, museum, and
apparatus formerly described, and with a series
of books adapted to intellectual instruction — I
ghall now offer a few hints on the mode in which
•he seveial depai-tments of instruction might be
conducted.

SECTION I.
English reading.

In throwing out a few hints on this depart-
ment, I shall take it for granted that the puiiils
have acquired a knowledge of the alphabet, in
the manner in which it is generally taught in
infant schools, and that they are qualified to read,
with a certain degree of ease, a few short lessons,
consisting of words of one or two syllables. Let
us suppose, for example, such a lesson as the fol-
lowing, on the general nature and qualities of
certain objects, to be the subject of attention.

1. A bell gives a brisk sound when we strike
it with a key, or with a stone, or with a large
nail. If we strike an egg-cup made of wood, or
if we strike a board or the table with a key, none
of these things will give such a sound. A wine-
glass will also produce a pretty brisk sound; but
if we strike it hard with a nail or a stone, it will
break. We hear every sound by means of our
ears, which God had formed and placed on each
side of our heads, that we might listen to our
teachers, and be able to talk with one another. —
2. The light which flows from the sun consists
of seven colors; red, orange, yellow, green, blue,
indigo and violet. The earth is spread over with
most of these colors ; the fields appear spread
over with green, some parts with a light green,
and some parts with a dark green color. Fir
trees and some poplar trees are dark green, corn
and grass are of a light green color A rose is
red; some roses are white. The crowfoot, the cow-

Vol. I.— 30

slip, the crocus, and the wall-flower, are yellow
Furze and broom have also pretty yellow flowers.
The blue-bottle flower, and some hyacinths, are
of a blue color. Some daisies are red, some an'
white, and some have two or three colors. Tho
corn in. the fields, the grass in the meadows, and
the leaves of trees, are green. — 3. Iron is heavy,
copper is heavier, lead is lieaviest. Lead will
sink, if you throw it into a basin of water, but a
cork will swim on the top of the water. A stone
will sink in water, but a piece of light wood will
swim; and if you push the wood down with your
hand to the bottom of the basin, it will quickly
rise again to the top. — 4. The sun shines from
the heavens, and gives us light all the day. He
is so bright that we can scarcely look up to him.
If we were to look straight toward the sun, it
would dazzle our eyes. But if we take a piece
of glass that is red or dark green, or a glass that
is covered all over with the smoke of a candle,
we may look through this glass to the sun with-
out dazzling our eyes. The sun sometimes shines
very bright, and sometimes he is covered with
clouds. Thesun is giving us light at this moment,
but WG cannot see him. Can any of you tell the
reason why the sun is not seen just now when he
is giving us light? What hides him from our
sigiit? The sky sometimes appears clear, like a
large blue dome or half-globe, and sometimes it is
all over covered with dark clouds. When the
sun rises in the east, that part of the sky is often
covered with bright red and yellow clouds; and
when he sets in the evening in the west, the same
kind of clouds are sometimes seen. God made
the sun, the moon, and the stars; he also made
the fields, the trees, and the corn; he formed our
bfdies and our souls; he gave us eyes to see with,
ears, that we might hear, hands to handle with,
feet to walk with, and he preserves us evei-y mo-
ment. He is present with us in this place, and
sees all that we do, though we cannot see him.
Let us give thanks to God, for he is good, and let
us do what he commands.
None, I presume, will be disposed to deny, that

62

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

cliildren of five yoars of age, who have been pre-
viously accustonu'd to observe the facts around
them, may easily be made, under the guidance of
an intelligent teacher, to uuder.staud every idea
contained in such lessons as the above. Tlie les-
son should first be distinctly and deliberately read
over by the class two or "three times, and then
illustrated by objects and experiments. Lesson 1,
may be illustrated by a small hand-bell, a key, a
wineglass, and a piece of wood; and some of the
children might be permitted to try the experiments,
which would gratify their natural curiosity, and
excite an interest in the subject of their lesson — it
being always understood that the teacher accom-
panies such experinituts with familiar explana-
tions and remarks. — For illustrating Lesson 2, it
would be requisite to have a large white pasteboard
painted witli the seven primary colors of light, so
that the pupils might be exercised upon it, in nam-
ing and distinguishing the diirerent colors. The
objects whose colors are stated might be shown
them; or if any of these objects are not at hand,
they may be exhibited by colored engravings. —
To illustrate Lesson 3, a pair of scales, a basin of
water, a piece of cork, and three pieces of iron,
copper, and lead, of equal size, will be required,
and then the experiment of weighing the pieces,
and plunging them into the water, may be ex-
hibited to the class. When explaining Lesson 4,
a piece of stained or smoked glass may be put
into the hands of the pupils, when the sun is visi-
ble, that each of them may try the experiment.
The questions proposed in this lesson, which are
not answered, may serve to exercise the judg-
ment of the pupils. They are understood to refer
to the circumstance of a cloudy day. Various sim-
ple questions of this description should be embod-
ied in the lessons,, to give scope to youthful judg-
ment and ingenuity. The latter part of this
lesson might atford an opportunity to the teacher
of impressing the minds of the class with a sense
of the presence, goodness, and universal agency
of the Creator. It will scarcely be denied, that in
this way instruction may be blended with amuse-
ment, and that a considerable variety of useful
knowledge might be gradually imparted to the
juvenile mind.

Descriptions of animals would form another in-
teresting class of lessons for the young, as in the
following example: —

THE PEACOCK.

The Peacock is the most beautiful bird in the
world. Its beauty excels that of all othei a.iimals.
Its bill is about two inches long, and is of a brown
color. Its head and neck, and part of its breast,
are of a dark-blue color. On the top of Us head
there is a tuft of pretty green feathers, which adds
to its beauty. Its neck is long and slender, and
its back of a whitish gray color, spotted with
black But the plumage and tail of this splendid
bird are the most beautiful parts of its body.
They are adorned with colors so rich and various,

that no human art. can make anything like them
When this bird walks in the sunshine, every mo-
ment produces a thousand shades of coloring,
which are beautiful and evervarying. These fine
colors exceed the luster of the finest flowers of the
fields and gardens. But, like the flowers, they
fade every year, and the feathers drop from theij
bodies, and are again renewed every spring. The
length of the pcLicock, from the tip of the bill tt
the end of the tail, is about three feet eight inches
Some of its longest feathers are four feet long.
Tliis bird appears haughty and proud, and loves
to display its fine colors to those who are looking
on, like those little boys and girls who are proud
of their fine clothes. The peacock perches upon
high places, and lives upon barley and other kinds
of grain. Its beautiful plumage does not appear
before it is nearly three years old. When it drops
its fini; feathers in the time of har%fest, it does not
like to be seen, but seeks to hide itself in some
gloomy place. Though the peacock is very beau-
tiful, it utters a very harsh and disgusting cry.
For whole hours it will repeat the cry oi Elco, eko,
eko, with the most hideous noise. It cannot sing
a pleasantsong, like the linnet and the blackbird. It
is so wicked that it will scarcely live with any
other bird, except the pigeon; and it tears and
spoils everything it gets hold of with its bill.
This bird was first brought from a far distant
country, from the East Indies, and it lives to the
age of twenty-five years. Little boys and girls,
be not like the peacock, proud and vain, on ac-
count of your beauty and your fiqfS clothes; for
humility and goodness are always to be preferretJ
to beauty.

In teaching this and similar lessons, a stuffed
specimen of the animal described should be placed
on a table opposite the class, audits different parts
and colors pointed out; but if a specimen is not at
hand, a colored engraving should be exhibited,
either in the class-book, or on a large sheet pasted
on a pasteboard. The terms, tuft, plumage, bill,
perching, &c. should be explained by a reference
to the figure or specimen, and the length of a yard,
foot, and inch, or any number of these combined,
should be distinctly explained and exhibited, by
means of rods of different lengths. — There is ano-
ther class of lessons for the juvenile classes, which
might consist chiefly of descriptions and exhibitions
of entertaining experiments. For example —

THE SAGACIOUS SWAN.

There is a nice little amusing toy which is
sold in some toy-shops, called the Sagacious Swan.
This swan is made of very thin tinplate, or other
light substance, and is hollow within. Near its
mouth, in the inside, is fixed a small magnet or
loadstone. The swan is placed in a large basin
full of water, in which it swims. A small rod of
metal about five or six inches long, with a piece
of bread fastened to one end of it, is held out to
the swan, at the distance of an inch or two from
its mouth. The swan then moves forward after
the rod, as if it wished to take hold of the piece of
bread. If you move the rod gently from Iho
swan, it will swim after it all round the basiu,
and from one side of it to another, as if it weie a
living swan swimming after its food. But if yau
present the other end of the rod to the swan, it
will swim backward, and try to avoid it, as if you
were wishing to mock or insult it. — The rod on
which the piece of bread is fastened is also a load-
stone. A loadstone attracts or draws to it needles,
and any small bits of iron or steel that are near it

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES.

63

Every loadstone has two ends, wliich are called
its iiortli and south j)o1l's. When the north pole
of one loadstone is brought near to the soutli pohi
of another, thc^' will uttract each other. But
when tile north pole of one in brought near to the
north pole of another, they will repel or move
from each other. When a small loadstone is placed
on a piece of cork of light wood, and made to swim
in a basin of water, it will turn itself round, un-
til it points nearly north and south. — The compass
which directs sailors in their course along the sea,
consists of a small loadstone, which moves upon
a pivot. It shows them how to steer to the East
and tile West, to the Nortli and the Soutli. By
means of this small bit of loadstone, they can find
thtnr way over great seas and oceans, to the East
Indies and America, and round the whole world.
God created the loadstone for tliis purpose; and if
we had never known its properties, we should
never have been able to bring tea from China, or
sugar from the West Indies, or to send Bibles to
t!ie people that dwell in the far-distant isles of the
sea.

This lesson would of course require to be illus-
trated by the philosophical toy which it describes.
This toy could be easily constructed by an ingeni-
ous mechanic, or it maj^ be purchased for about
five or six shillings. The experiment of placing
a small magnet upon a piece of cork, and suspen-
ding it on the water, to show how it fixes itself
north and south, might also be exhibited; and by
taking another magnet, and suspending it in the
same manner opposite to the first, the attraction
and repulsion of the different poles of the two
magnets might be shown, which would explain
the phenomena of the sagacious swan. The power
of the magnet in attracting needles, small keys,
pe uknives, &c. might at the same time be shown.
A pocket-compass might likewise be exhibited,
and its usedescribed; and the attractive and repul-
sive powers of the magnet shown, by presenting
it alternately to the north and soutli poles of the
compass-needle. It might also be shown, that the
iiuigiietic power passes tlirough interposing sub-
stances, by placing a board between the pocket-
compass and the magnet, and causing the pupils
to oljserve, that the needle is made to turn round,
by the influence of the magnet transmitted througli
the board. — This is only one example out of a
hundred that might be produced, of rendering en-
tertaining experiments interesting and instructive
to children; aiid when truths are, in this way, as-
sociated with sensible representations and experi-
ments, they are seldom erased from their minds
to the latest period of their existence.

In the next stage of English reading, the pupil
might enter on the perusal of a volume contain-
ing lessons on subjects of a higher order, such as
those formerly described — which might be substi-
tuted in the place of ourcommon school collections.
The lessons in such a volume should be distin-
guished for the perspicuity and neatness of their
style, although specimens of wliat is termed ele-
gance and fine writing may be occasionally intro-
duced. The following may serve as a specimen
of the manner in which such lessons may be con-
structed:—

DESJRIPTION OF VOLCANOES.

Volcanoes are mountains, generally of a large
size, from the summits ofwhich issue fire and smoke.
On the top of these mountains, there is a vast
opening called the Crater, sometimes two or three
miles in circumference, reaching from their sum-

mits to an lmniea.sural ;e depth in the bowels of the
earth. From these dreadful openings are frequent-
ly thrown up to an immense hight, torrents of
fire and stiioke, clouds of ashes and ciuder.s, and
red-hot stones, togetlier witii torrents of melted
lava, which roll down the declivity of the moun-
tain like an immense flaming river These alarm-
ing appearances are frequently accompanied with
thunders, lightnings, darkness, quakings of the
earth, and horrid subterraneous sounds, producing
the most terrible devastations through all the sur-
rounding country. — Previous to an eruption, the
smoke, which is continually ascending from the
crater, increases, and shoots up to an immense
hight; forked lightning issues from the ascending
column; showers of ashes are thrown to the dis-
tance of forty or fifty miles; volleys of red-hot
stones are discharged to a great hight in the air;
tiie sky appears thick and durk; the luminaries of
heaven disappear. When these alarming phenom-
ena have continued for some time, the lava, or
stream of melted minerals, begins to make its ap-
pearance, either boiling over the top, or forcing
its way through the side of the mountain. This
fiery deluge runs down the declivity of the moun-
tain, forming a dismal flaming stream, sometimes
14 miles long, 6 miles broad, and 200 feet deep.
In its course it destroys orchards, vinej'ards, corn-
fields, and villages; and sometimes cities, contain-
ing 20,000 inhabitants, have been consumed and
buried under the burning lava. There are reck-
oned about fourteen of these volcanoes in Europe;
of whichtlie principal are Mount Hecla in Iceland,
Mount Vesuvius, near the city of Naples, Mount
Etna in Sicily, and Stromboli in one of the Lipa-
ri islands. ■ Etna and Vesuvius are often quiet
for many months, and even years, without the
appearance of fire, though the smoke is always
ascending from their craters; but the mountain
Stromboli is ever at work, and appears to be the
only volcano that burns without ceasing; and for
ages past, it has been looked upon as the great
lightlwuse of the surrounding seas. Several phe-
nomena of awful sublimity and terrific grandeur
frequently accompany the eruptions of these vol-
canoes. Hecla in Iceland, is a mountain nearly
a mile in perpendicular elevation, and a consider-
able portion of it is covered with snow. In an
eruption of this volcano in 1775, a stone weighing
290 pounds was thrown to the distance of 24
English miles. Not far from this mountain, in
the year 1783, there happened a most dreadful and
appalling eruption, which was preceded by a vio-
lent earthquake, which lasted for a fortnight; after
wiiicli the lava broke out from the earth in three
different places, forming three dreadful Fire-
Spouts. These fire-spouts, or streams of burning
lava, after having risen a considerable hight into
the air, united into one, arriving at last at such an
amazing altitude, as to be seen at the distance of
more than 200 miles. The hight to which this
fiery stream ascended was reckoned to be not less
tlian two miles above the surface of the earth,
This fire first became visible on the 8th of June,
and continued to produce devastation and terrof
until the iGth of August following. In one direc-
tion it formed a lake of fire spreading itself out in
length and breadth, more than 36 miles; and,
having converted all tliis tract of land into a sea
of fire, it stretched itself out in another direction,
and rushed down the channel of a large river with
violent impetuosity, tearing up the earth, and
carrying on its surface flaming woods, and every
tiling it met with in its course, and forming other
lakes of fire. Tiie whole extent of ground covered
by this fiery inundation, was no less than 90 miles

64

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

long, by 49 in breadth, or 3780 square miles, the
depth of the lava being from DG to 120 feet. All
the time of tills great eruption, the whole atmos-
phere was loaded with smoke, steam, ashes, and
siilpluuous viipors. The sun was frequently in-
visible, or, when seen, was of a dismal reddish
color; and the rain which fell through the
smoke and steam, was so impi'egnated with salt
and sulphurous matter, that the hair and even
the skiu of the cattle were destroyed, and the

TNTERIOR OF THE CRATER OF VESUVIUS.

VESUVIUS AND NAPLES.

gras of the fields rendered poisonous. Twelve
rivers were dried up by this fiery inundation, many
lakes were filled up, 20 villages were destroyed,
many thousands of sheep and cattle perished, and
more than 240 huma,n beings were destroyed.
After this eruption, two islands were thrown up
from the bottom of the sea, 100 miles south-west
from Iceland — one of tliem -i miles in circumfer-
ence, and about a mile in bight, which continued
for some time to burn with great violence.

In an eruption of Vesuvius, in 1769, about mid-
night, a fountain of fire was shot up to an amaz-
ing hight, casting so bright a light, that the
smallest objects were clearly distinguishable alanv
place within six or seven miles of the mountain.
On the next day a most violent report was heard,
which shook the houses of the town of Porfcci to
such a degree, that the windows were broken and
the walls rent by the concussion of the air; and,
in an instant, a fountain of liquid transparent fire
began to rise, and, gradually increasing, arrived
at length to the amazing bight of 10,000 feet and
upwar'i, when its blaze was reflected with av/ful
gjandeur from the sea. A gentleman of Sorrento,
twelve miles distant from Vesuvius, read the title
page of a book by that volcanic light. — Mount
Etna is the largest volcano in Europe. It is above
2 miles in perpendicular hight; it is about 30
miles in a straight line along its declivity to the
top, its circumference at its base is above 120 miles,
and its crater above three miles in circumference.
In 1669, burning rocks, 15 feet long, and 50 in cir-
cumference, were thrown to the distance of a mile,
and showers of cinders and ashes to the distance of
more than 60 miles. A fiery stream burst from
the mouutain, 14 miles long and 6 miles broad,

which destroyed in its course tie habitations of
nearly 30,000 persons; and, meeting with a lake
four miles in compass, not only filled it up, but
mafle a mountain in its place. The quantity of
materials thrown out by volcanoi.'S, is prodigious.
It was calculated that, in this eruption, the matter
thrown out amounted to 150,000,000 cubical
yards; so that, had it been extended in length upon
ihe surface of the earth, it would have reached
nearly four times round the circumference of the
globe. The HOJ.se emitted by volcanoes, has been
compared to a mi.xed sound made up of the raging
of a tempest, the murmur of a troubled sea, and
the roaring of thunder and artillery, confused alto-
gether. The roarings of Cotopaxi in South Amer-
ica, one of the largest volcanoes in the world, have
been heard at the distance of more than 200 miles.
Volcanoes ore found in every quarter of the world.
Forty have been observed constantly burning be-
tween Cotopaxi and the Pa(iific ocean; 20 havo
been seen in the chain of mountains that stretch-
es along Karatschatka; and many of them are to
be found in the Philippines, the Moluccas, the
Cape de Verd, the Sandwich, the Ladrone, and
other islands in the Pacific ocean. About 205
volcanoes are known to exist, of which 107 are
in islands, and 98 on the great continents. All
these grand and terrific phenomena of nature ar»
under the direction and control of the Creator of
the universe; and they afford presumptive proofs
that man has fallen from his original rectitude
and is no longer in a state of innocence.

QUESTIONS ON THE PRECEDING LESSON.

(1.) V/hat is the nature of a volcano? What
part of a volcano is its crater? What substances
are -thrown out from volcanoes? What appear-
ances generally accompany their eruptions? What
are the signs or forerunners of an eruption?
What is meant by lava? What appearances does
it present, and what effects does it produce?
What are the principal volcanoes in Europe?
What is peculiar with respect to Stromboli? De-
scribe the size and situation of Hecla. What pre-
ceded the eruption in Icelaiid in 1783? What
extraordinary appearance did this eruption exhib-
it? Of what did the fire-spouts consist? at what
distance were they seen? and to what hight did
they rise? How long did they continue to burn?
[low large a tract of country was covered by th«
burning materials? and what devastations did
they produce? Wliatwas the depth of the burning
stream? What vv'as the appearance of the sun
during this eruption? What effects were produc-
ed by the rain,and what was the state of the at-
mosphere?— What striking appearance was beheld
during an eruption of Vesuvius? At what time
of the day or night was it seen? What happened
before another awful appearance? Describe the
size of Mount Etna, and state the circumference
of its crater. What were the circumstances at-
tending its eruption in 16G9, and what effects did
they produce?— (2.) What number of volcanoes
has been ascertained? In what countries are they
found? How many are in Europe? How many
in the mountains of Kamtschatka? What size of
stones have been thrown out of Etna and Hecla,
and to what distance were they thrown? How
many villages were destroyed by the eruption in
Iceland? What effect did it produce on the lakes
and rivers? and upon animated beings? Were
any men and women destroyed? What were tho
length and bn'adth of one of the lakes of fire
formed by this eruption? Describe the d.men-
sions of the fiery stream which ran down Moun'

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.

65

I2tna til 1669. To wliat Iins the noise of volcanoes
been compared? Wliat ellcct did this noiso pro-
duce in tlie. town of Foitici? At wluit dijtaiico
was a gentleman enabled to read by the flame of a
volcano? What was reckoned the hight of the
stream of fire which ascended from Vesuvius?
How many habitations were destroyed by the
eruption of Etna? and what effect did it produce
on the lake? Have any volcanoes ever risen from
the bottom of the sea? From what part of a vol-
canic mouutxiin does the eruption of lava proceed?
and does it always issue from the same part?
What was the size of ono of the islands tlirovvn up
from the sea near Iceland? To what distance
liavesand and ashes been thrown in the eruptions
Df volcanoes? What is generally the appearance
»f the sky, and of the luminaries of heaven pre-
vious to an eruption, and during its continuance?
At what distance have the sounds of the volcano
Cotopaxi been heard? — What is the meaning of
Uie word subterraneous? whence is it derived, and
of what words is it compounded? Describe, like-
wise, the meaning of the words plienomena, sum-
nit, devastation, inundation, lava, &.c. Point, on
the map of Europe, to the situation of Hccla,
Vesuvius, Stromboli, and Etna. Point, on the
map of the World, to the situations of the other
volcanoes mentioned iu the lesson. How many
volcanoes are situated in islands? What length
of a journey is requisite in ascending to the top of
Etna? Under whose superintendence are the op-
erations of volcanoes? and what moral instruc-
tions may we learn from their terrific and destruc-
tive effects?

The above lesson is compiled from five or six
different sources, so as to condense as many inter-
esting facts as possible in one description. The
language of the original authors has been altered
and simplified, and some original sentences inter-
woven. It is sckiom tliat a mere extract will be
found, in all its parts, sufficiently perspicuous and
interesting to the young; and therefore it would
require a considerable degree of labor and research
to arrange and compile a volume or two, on the
plan proposed. The questions are intended to ex-
cite the attention and judgment of tlie pupil, and
the answers are understood to be prepared by him
previous to his reading the lesson along with his
class. At the same time, the teacher has it in his
power to put to his pupils as many subordinate
questions connected with the subject as he may
deem expedient, and to illustrate, by familiar de-
scriptions, any objects either directly or indirect-
ly connected with the facts stated in the lesson. —
The first twenty-six questions are stated nearly
in the order of the lesson; the remaining queries,
beginning at No. 2, are intentionally arranged in
a different order, to exercise the judgment of the
pupil, and to prevent him getting his answere by
rote. This arrangement would require to be
adopted in almost every lesson. Each lesson
should contain a perspicuous description of some
well-defined scene or objtjct, the knowledge of
which would form a portion of the foundations of
useful science. And, were all the ideas comprised
in a lesson of this description to be impressi d upon
the mind of the pupil evefy day, it cannot be
doubted, that in the course of a year, when above
three hundred such li;ssons would be studied, a
very considerable portion of useful information
would be communicated — far superior in utility
and extent to all that has hitherto been acquired
by the perusal of Epilogues of stage-players,
Speeches. in the Roman Senate, Parliamentary de-
bates, tho encounters of knights and warriors,

essays on criticism and oratory, anu all the other
prosing dissertations with which so man}' of our
school-collections are occupied.

Baside the questions referring to the descrip-
tions contained iu the lessons, a variety of miscel-
laneous questions, in reference to the common ap-
pearances of nature, and the different branchea
of popular science, might occasionally be propos-
ed to the pupils,to excite their curiosity, and ex-
ercise their reasoning powers. For example —

How many miles should we require to travel
before we could go quite round the world? What
proofs can you give that the earth is round like a
globe? Is there more land or water on the surface
of the earth? What is meant by the atmosphere?
Has the air any weight? By what experiments
can you prove that the air presses upon our bodies
and upon all parts of the earth? How do you
prove that air exists, since it cannot be seen?
What is the appearance of the sky during a thun-
der-storm? Whether is the lightning seen before
or after a peal of thunder? By what means could
you measure the distance between the earth and
a thunder-cloud? What effects does lightning
sometimes produce? — How many senses has man?
What is the organ of vision? What part of the
eye lets in the light? Is the opening which lets in
the light always of the same size? Wliat know-
ledge do we derive by means of the sense of seeing?
Have all animals the same number of eves? What
is peculiar in the eyes of flies and other insects?
Whataresomeof thedifferentkinds of animals that
live in the air, the waters, and the earth? What
is the difference between a beast, a bird, and a
fish? between a reptile and an insect? &c. Is a
lobster a beast, a reptile, or a fish? What are the
different parts of a plant? What part of a plant
is the stem or trunk? What enables plants to
stand upright, although they are tossed with the
wind? Do all plants grow upright? What plants
are useful for food? for building T' for clothing?
&c. What parts of our clothing are made from
plants? Could we have clothing from animals,
if no plants existed? What would be the appear-
ance of fields ai^d mountains, if there were no
plants? — What are the tides? How often do they
ebb and flow in the course of a day? — At what
periods of the moon are the tides highest? Does
the sun appear round? Does the moon always
appear round? What other phases or shapes does
she assume? At what period of the day or night
does the moon rise when she appears with a round
full face? In what direction does she appear after
sunset, when she assumes the form of a slender cres-
cent?— If you take a wine-glass, fill it with water,
and press a piece of paper upon the mouth of it, and
theu turn it upside-down, will the water run out of
the glass? If you take a glass tube, and fill it with
water, and press )'our thumb hard upon the top of
it, what is the reason that the water will not run
out of the bottom of the tube, although it is open?
When a boy's sucker is moistened with wat'?r,
and pressed upon a smooth stone, what is the rea-
son why it is able to lift up a stone of a pretty large
size? Would the sucker produce the effect if it
were not moistened with water?

Many thousands of queries of this description
might be proposed to the j'oung, whicli, if judi-
ciously selected, explained, and illustrated, could
not fail of gratifying their curiosity, and of impart-
ing the elements of useful knowledge, and, above
all, of exciting a spirit of observation, of fixing
the attention, and of promoting a habit of reason-
ing on the various objects and operations thej' per-
ceive around them. Au hour or more, during

66

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

two or three days in the week, iniglit be profita-
bly spent in sueli exercises, which should always
be accoinpanied witli familiar and minute expla-
nations, and, where the subject admits of it, with
amusing and illustrative oxpTiments.*

Another occasional exercise might consist in
exhibiting to a class a variety of objects, botli nat-
ural and artificial, — such as, the model of u ship,
a pair of bellows, a mineral substance, a slirub, a
flower, a leaf, a bird, an insect, or any other ob-
ject— and causing the pupils to describe the parts
or qualities of the object exliibitijd,and the charac-
teristics by which it is distinguished from every
Oilier class of objects. If it be a ship, the masts,
the yard-arras, the bow, the poop, the keel, the dif-
ferent kinds of sails, &c., tlieir uses, properties,
and the terms by which they are distinguished,
may be pointed out and described. — If it be a
flower, the calyx, corolla, stamina and pistil, may
be pointed out, the class to which it belongs de-
scribed, and the characteristics by which it may
be known from every other flower distinguished.
After having several times exiiibited and described
such objects, they may afterward be held up to
the view of a class, or handed round among the pu-
pils for their inspection, and each of tiiem, or at
least a few of the more intelligent, interrogated
respecting the parts, qualities, uses, or circum-
stances connected with the object exhibited. The
objects which may be thus described are almost
innumerable; and hence the necessity, in such a
system of instruction, of collecting for every
school an extensive musei^m of natural and artifi-
cial objects, — of having an extensive plot of
ground connected with the seminary, for rearing
trees, slirubs, and flowers of different kinds — and
of enjoying an extensive prospect from the roof of
the building, with the view of descrying as many
objects as possible, for the purpose of elucidation
and instruction. — The following example, taken
from the " Lessons on Objects," as given in a Pes-
talozzian school at Cheam, will partly illustrate
the plan here suggested; —

Lesson on Glass. — The pupils are supposed to
be arranged before a black-board, upon which the
result of their obseivations is written. The glass
is passed round the party to be examined by each
individual, so that his attention and powers may
be exercised about it.

"Teacher. What is that which I hold in roy
hand? Children. A piece of glass. T. Can you
spell the word 'glass?' [The teacher then writes
the word 'glass' upon the slate, which is thus
presented to the whole cla-ss as the subject of the
lesson.] You have all examined the glass, what
do you observe? what can ycu say that it is? C.
It is bright. [The teacher, having written the
word 'qualities,' writes under it, 'It is bright.']
T. Take it in your hand and feel it. C. It is
cold. [Written on the board, under the former
quality.] T. Feel it again, and compare it with
the piece of sponge that is tied to your slate, and
then tell me what you perceive in the glass. C.
It is smooth, it is hard. T. Is there any other
glass in the room? C. Yes, the windows. T.
Close the shutters: can you see the garden now?
C. No. T. Why cannot you? C. We cannot
see through the shutters. T. What can you say,
then, of the glass? C. We can see through it.
7". Can you tell me any word that will express
this quality? C No. T. I will tell you, then;

pay attention, that you may recollect it. It is
transparent. What shall you now understand,
when I tell you that a substance is transparent!
C. We can see through it. T. You are right;
try and recollect son)ething that is transparent.
C. Water. T. If I were to let this glass fall, or
you were to throw a ball at the window, what
would be the consequence? C. The glass would
be broken. It is brittle. T. Could I in the same
manner break the shutters? C. No. T. Could
I break it if I used great force? C. Yes. T.
Would you therefore call the wood brittle? C.
No. T. What substances then do you call brit-
tle? C. Those which are easily broken."

These are probably as many qualities as would
occur to children at their first attempt, which,
being arranged on the slate or board, form an ex-
ercise in spelling. They should then be effaced,
and if the pupils are able to write, they may
endeavor to remember the lesson, and put it down
on their slates. Various other qualities of glass
might afterward be described to the pupils, par-
ticularly its power of forming images and mag-
nifying objects, when ground into convex lenses,
and combined in telescopes and microscopes, which
unfold to our view the wonders of the heavens,
and the minute parts of creation. The chief
business of a teacher, in such exercises, is, to
draw out the ideas of children, to direct them in
a right channel, to teach them to fix their atten-
tion on what is immediately before them, and to
employ their reasoning powers in drawing the
proper conclusions from the objects they contem-
plate. Contrary to the almost universally pre-
vailing practice, the idea of any object should
generally precede the term by which it is desig-
nated; so that a child having acquired a clear
conception of an object, may feel the want of a
term or terms by which its nature or qualities
may at any time be expressed, and be enabled, on
every occasion, to associate the one with the other.

* A considerable variety of such questions as those to
which I allude, will be found in an excellent little work, by
Mr. Jacob Abbot, Principal of Mount Vernon school, entitled
•• 11x9 Uttle Philosopher."

SECTION II.
Writing and cojirosiTiON.

On this branch of education, I shall offer only
a few general remarks, in addition to those form-
erly stated. Writing is an art of the greatest
utility and importance, and to which children
should be accustomed at an early period of their
lives. In the first instance, they may be taught
to write on a slate, with a slate-pencil, which
they may be taught to hold in the same way as
we hold a goose-quill or a steel-pen. Instead of
beginning with straight lines Oind parts of letters,
they might at once begin either with complete
letters or short words, wliich should seldom be
made of a larger size than half text, as in the ac-
tual business of life there is seldom occasion for
writing a laiaB*,text-hand. Mr. Buchanan (a
gentleman wH^pas been long a successful tea-
cher in Greenock, and the author ot seA'cral use-
ful pablications) lately showed me a plan he had
recently introduced to facilitate the forming of
letters, when a child is set to write on a slate.
The method is as follows: — Slates are prepared,
as in the foUov/ing figure, with the letters, a, b, e,
&c. indented on the left-hand side. The pupil
works his pointed slate-pencil several times
throughout the indentings of each letter, and, after
he has b«come familiar with its slopes and cui-ves,
and acquires tiie movements requisite to form the
letter, he tries to write a number ofrthe same

WRITING AND COMPOSITION

67

letters in succession, on
the line drawn on tlie
slute immediately op-
posite. Mr. Buchanan
has found this plan
greatly to facilitate the
accurate formation of
the letters, in the first
attempts of children to
write on slates; and
it certainly deserves a
liiir trial in other sem-
inaries. Shuit worus might be indented in the
same manner; and when the pupil is at a loss
as to the formation and the joinings of the differ-
ent letters, he may recur to tlie indented model,
and by following with his pencil its turnings and
windings, three or four times in succession, he
will soon be enabled to form the word on his
elate.

On a principle somewhat similar, a child may
be taugiit to write with ink upon paper, by set-
ting before him a piece of good writing made
with a red pencil, and making him pass and re-
pass over all the strokes and. curves with a pen
full of black ink. — In Professor Jacotot's system
of education — instead of commencing with ele-
mentary lines, curves, and letters, in what is
called text-hand — a complete sentence, written
by the master, or engraved in S7naU hand, is put
before the eyes of the pupil, which he is directed
to copy. He writes, as well as he can, the first
word — suppose "TAe;" and no further progress
must be made, until, by an attentive comparison of
his own performance with the original copy, he
becomes conscious of the faults and defects of
tlie former. Such questions as these are then
put. Q. Is this 7" well made? A. No; it ia too
high, or too short, or too long. Q. Could it be
made better? A. I think so. Q. What must
you then do to improve it? A. Make it longer,
or broader, or shorter, &c. Q. How could you
have made it better at first? A. By paying moie
attention, &c. — But I leave it to the writing-mas-
ter to adopt such plans for teaching the formation
or written characters as his experience may deem
most expedient, and conclude with two or three
general remarks.

The principal object of writing is to communi-
cate our sentiments to others, or to record the
fleeting thoughts that pass through our own
minds for the subject of future consideration.
The art of writing should therefore be made to
bear, as soon as possible, on the practical pur-
poses of life. Instead of continuing children for
years, at the formal practice of writing from
"copy-lines" — as soon as they acquire a tolerable
hand, they should be accustomed to write forms
of mercantile accounts — statements of arithme-
tical operations — cards of invitation — letters of
friendship or business — forms of address and su-
perscriptions— and whatever else they may after-
waBEthave occasion to practice in the actual busi-
less of life. The miscellaneous sentiments em-
Dodied in the lines and pieces which they co])y,
should uniformly contain religious and moral
precepts and sentiments easily understood, and
statements of historical, geographical, astronomi-
cal, and scientific facts, in order that no opportu-
nity may be lost in familiarizing the mind to
useful knowledge. For example, instead of the
unmeaning words generally given as ''copies,"
Buch sentences as the following miirht be sub.sti-
tuted: ^

" The eves of the Lord are in every place, be-

liolding the evil and the good. He knoweth our
downsitting and our uprising, and understandeth
all our thoughts. The darkness cannot hide from
him; for the darkness and the light are both alike to
God." "The power and wisdom of God are
seen in the construction of the smallest insect.
In a single drop of certain kinds of water, hun-
dreds of little animals may be seen, by the micro-
scope, swimming like fishes in a pond, every one
of them having eyes, a mouth, stomach and
bowels, and instruments of motion." " About
sixteen hundred years after the creation, the
whole earth was covered with a flood of water,
which reached more than twenty feet above the
tops of the highest mountains." " Fear God,
and keep his coiiunandraejits. Love your ene-
mies, do good to tliein that hate yoii, and live
peaceably with all men. If thine enemy hunger,
feed him; if he thirst, give him drink. For God
is long-suffering and kind, even to the unthank-
ful and the evil; He causeth his sun to rise on the
evil and on the good, and sendeth his rain to
water the fields both of the righteous and of the
wicked." "The world in which we dwell is
round, like a globe or ball; and it would require
a journey of nearly twenty-five thousand miles
before we could go quite round it." "The
Atlantic ocean lies between Europe and America,
and it is three thousand miles broad." "Africa
is a very hot country, and there are great num-
bers of people living in it whose skin is entirely
black." " China is the most populous empire in
the world : it contains about three hundred mil-
lions of inhabitants. The whole world contains
above eight hundred millions." "The moon is
two thousand one hundred and sixty miles in
diameter; and is two hundred and forty thousand
miles distant from the earth." " The sun is
ninety-five millions of miles distant; and Is more
than twelve hundred thousand times larger than
the whole earth." " The air, or atmosphere,
presses upon every square yard of the earth's
surface with a force equal to more than nineteen
thousand pounds." "The river Amazon is three
thousand miles long, and is the largest river on
the globe." &c.

A sentence or two of this description might
be given to a whole class of writers, to be copied
several times over; and after the class has finished
the writing, the fact, or sentiment contained in
the sentence might be explained and illustrated.
By this means, a number of useful facts and
practical rules of conduct might be gradually
communicated to the youthful mind; and, being
noted down in the pupil's copy-book, they might
be reperused and referred to on any future occa-
sion. Perhaps it might not be inexpedient to
classify a number of fundamental truths, facts,
and aphorisms, under such heads as the following
— Rriyiou!^, Moral, Geographical, Historical, As-
irnnomical. Chemical, Optical, Botanical, SfC, al-
lotting two or three pages of the copy-book for
each department. The above siisrgestion proceeds
on the principle, that in every department of study,
an opportunity should he taken of impartiivj some
-new and naej'ul truth lo the understanding of the
young, or irnpressing some moral lesson vpon the
heart.

As soon as the pupil is able to handle the pen
with some degree of dexterity, he should be accus-
tomed to write forms of letters, narratives, essays,
or real e])istn!ary correspondence. He may liKe-
wise at this period, be gradually taught the'ari of
composition. This may be effected, in the first in-
stance, by rccountiiig to him a striking narrafve,

%
<

65

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

or an interesting historical fact, and desiring iiiin
immediately to repeat it in his own style, and af-
terwarii to write it down nearly in the same man-
ner. Alter being accustomed to write, a few sim-
ple narratives, descriptions of some objects con-
nected with natural history, or some striking mo-
ral sentiments, may be read over several times in
his hearing, as exercises in composition. He may
next be requested to give a narrative of any excur-
sion he has made, either alone, or in company,
and a description of the scenes he has visited, the
events that occurred, and the friends by whom lie
was entertained. He may also be desired to de-
scribe the rural scenery around him, and the
streets, lanes, public buildings, and other remark-
able objects connected with the town or village in
which he resides. A stufTed bird or quadruped, an
insect, a plailt, a flower, or any other object, might
occasionally be presented to him, with a request
to describe in writing, its form, parts, proportions,
and properties, as they appear to his senses after a
minute inspection. The apparent motion of the
sun during summer, might be prescribed as an
exercise of this kind, in which he might be desired
to describe the direction or position of the sun at
6 and 9 o'clock in the morning, at noon, and at 3,
6, and 8 o'clock in the afternoon. A description
of the different phases of the moon, and of the
positions in the heavens in which she appears,
immediately after sunset, when she assumes the
figure of a crescent, a half-moon, a gibbous phase
and a full enlightened hemisphere — might form
another exercise.* Such exercises would tend to
excite a spirit of observation,and to impress the mind
with various facts, which would be found of im-
mense benefit to the pupil when he should after-
ward enter on the regular study of the sciences.
When such exercises are prescribed to a whole
class, a day and hour may be appointed, when a
few of the compositions might be read by the
teacher in the presence of the class. This will
give him an opportunity of offering remarks on
the merits of the different compositions, and of
showing how the same ideas may be expressed in
different language. On such occasions, orthogra-
phical and grammatical errors may be pointed out
and directions given how they may be avoided.
At the same time, instructions may be given in
reference to the proper use of capital letters, stops
and marks, and the proper arrangement of any
piece of composition into sentences and para-
graphs.

The utilitjr of such exercises will scarcely be
called in question. They would habituate the
young to observation and reflection — instead of
loking at the objects and phenomena of nature
with an unconscious gaze, they would learn to in-
spect them with minute attention, and investigate
their forms, qualities, and effects. In such obser-
vations they would feel avariety of pleasing emo-
tions; for the acquisition- of new facts and ideas,
and knowledge of every description, is a source
of enjoyment to every mind, whether young or
old. Beside, such studies and employments

* In order to understmd the object of such an exercise, it
may not be improper to state, that immeiljateiy after sunset,
the moon, when in a crescent phase, appears near the west or
south-west quarter of the heavens, in our northern latitude —
when of the figure of a half-moon, she appears nearly in the
south at the same hour — when of a gibbous phase about the
aouth-casl — and when a. full moon in the cast, nearly opposite
to the point of sunset, and sometimes a little to the south-east
or north-east, according as she is in north or south declina-
tion. These circumstances can he easily ascertained in the
course •»€ a fortnight, and it is of some importance to a young
person that he be enabled to determine them from his own
observations.

would have a tendency to prevent them from en-
gaging in frivolous pursuits and mischievous de-
vices; and, in the future periods of their lives they
would be enabled to record and describe, with
perspicuity, any remarkable occurrences or facts^
that may full under their observation. We have
reason to believe that many interesting facts in ro«
lation to geology, mineralogy, zoology, meteorol-
ogy, and other departments of natural history,
have been detected by persons in the lower ranks
of life, which have been lost to the scientific world,
in consequence of their being beheld with an in-
curious eye, and from the observers having been
incapable of writing an intelligent description of
the objects wliicli came under their inspectiork.
Hence the numerous bones of fossil animals which
have been mangled and destroyed, and thrown
aside as rubbish, by laborers and miners, had
they been preserved entire, might have thrown a
new light on the extinct species of the animal king-
dom, and on the former state of the world. But
in the present state of society, there is not one out
of a hundred capable of writing a perspicuous de-
scription of any fact, physical, political or moral,
that may fall under his observation. If, therefore,
young people were early excited to habits of ob-
servation, and to record in writing the results of
their observations, they might afterward, in a va-
riety of ways, be eminently useful in contributing
to the advancement of science and of general
knowledge.

SECTION III
Drawing

In connection with writing. Drawing is an ac-
complishment in which every young person should
be initiated. As writing consists in the imitatio?
of characters and words, so drawing is the imita-
tion or writing down of objects. Almost everj
child feels a desire to imitate the actions of others
and when he has it in his power, to draw represefl
tations, however rude, of the objects around him,
and in such exercises feels no small share of enjoy
ment. He may be taught to begin with geometri-
cal figures, as lines, angles, squares, parallelograms,
triangles, polygons, arches, circles, ovals, cone*
pyramids, cjdinders, and the like, as being the
foundation of all other proportions. He may nex*
proceed to the drawing of fruits, as apples, pears,
cherries, &c., with their leaves; of flowers, as
roses, tulips, and daisies; of birds, beasts, fisheSj
and serpents; of the human body, with its several
lineaments; and of houses, spires, public buildings,
and landscapes. After he has executed some of
these objects from patterns set before him, he
should be encouraged as soon as possible to copy
from nature. For this purpose, he might be di-
rected to begin with attempting to draw the rep-
resentation of an adjacent building, of the school-
house, with its garden and area, of a church, a
spire, a tower, or some adjacent public edifice^
also the imitation of a tree, a flower, a horse, a
cow, a dog, a ship, or a windmill. After drawing
several landscapes from copies, he may be request-
ed to delineate a particular landscape in the neigh-
borhood of the seminary; and if such an exercise
were prescribed to a whole class, premiums (if such
a principle be admitted) might be offered for two
or three of the best-finished drawings. Previous,
however, to such attempts, some of the principles
of perspective would require to be familiarly illus-
trated. The pupil might next be instructed ia

EXERCISES IN NUMBERS.

69

the delineation of maps, the drawing of arcl)itec-
tural plans, garden-plots, and rural ornaments,
machinery of different kinds, and optical, mathe-
matical, and philosophical instruments. In the
present state of society, and amidst the improve-
ments now going on in all kinds of machinery, a
particular acquaintance witli tliis department of
drawing would be found of great practical utility,
and there are few mechanical exercises in which
the young would take greater delight.

Drawing has hitherto been considered chiefly
in the light of an ornamental study, and has been
viewed as principally adapted to the amusement of
ladies, and the higher ranks of society; and their
attention has been chiefly directed to the copying
of paintings, engravings, drawings, and fancy-
pieces, which have no prototypes in nature.
Hence there are comparatively few who have
learned this art in the usual routine, that can ac-
curately delineate a landscape from nature, draw
an architectural plan, or give a correct represen-
tation of any instrument or piece of machinery.
The art of drawing ouglit not to be considered as
merely an elegant amusement: it is capable of
being rendered of the greatest utility to science,
and to those arts which minister to the comfort
ajiid rational enjoyments of human life. Were
useful knowledge more generally difli'used, and
were the young universally taught to draw from
nature, our views of the landscape of the world,
of the facts of science, and of the operations of art,
might be indefinitely enlarged. Every traveler
would be enabled to take a sketch of the wonders
of nature, the varieties of art, the domestic associ-
ations, and the more interesting scenery displayed
in the difierent regions through which he passed;
and such sketches, being afterward expanded into
panoramas, or engraved for the optical machine,
might extend our conceptions of the scenery of
the world, and convey clear and distinct views of
objects which we may never have an opportunity
of visiting. Every naturalist would be qualified
to delineate an exact representation of any un-
known tree, flower, shrub, or uncommon animal,
that might fall under his observation. Everj' one
engaged in astronomical observation could repre-
sent to others, with accuracy, the phenomena of
the solar spots, with their numberless variations
— the aspect of the lunar mountains, peaks, and
vales, in every phase of the moon, and the changes
which may occasionally be taking place — the va-
ried appearances on the surfaces of the planets, as
seen through telescopes — and the relative positions,
sizes and phenomena of the stellar and planetary
nebuljB dispersed through the distant regions of
space. Every artisan and mechanic would be
qualified for sketching any mechanical improve-
ment or invention, either of his own or of others;
and every laborer, for delineating whatever curi-
ous or uncommon objects he might meet with,
either in his rural walks, or in his digging, min-
ing, and agricultural operations.

But, in order to enjoy the advantages which
would be derived from universal instruction in
tlie art of drawing, every object which the young
are set to copy should be one which has a real
existence in nature, and which may be instru-
mental in conveying to their minds a new and
correct idea of objects which they may not pre-
viously have seen, and thus of adding something
to their stock of general knowledge; and they
should be given to understand, that the object of
drawing is not mere amusement, but practical
utility; and consequently they should be induced
1o copy from nature and art as soon as they are
\hlo to handle the pencil with any degree of dex-

terity. It appears truly absurd and preposterous
to set before children, as patterns of imitation,
fancy pictures and imaginary landscapes which
have- no prototypes in the real world, when there
are so many real objects and diversified land-
scapes around us, and when we consider that
every new object which has a real existence, pre-
sented to a young mind, adds sometliing to its
stock of knowledge. Fancy pictures are of as
little use in giving us correct representations of
nature and art, as novels and romances are in
conveying accurate information of the transac-
tions and events recorded in history. On this
ground, I would deem it inexpedient to distract
the attention of the young with historical paint-
ings or drawings, however much such pieces may
be admired. In short, when we consider how
much useful information, as well as pleasure,
may be conveyed by accurate pictures taken di-
rectly from the scenes of nature and the opera-
tions of art, we cannot but view it as higliiy ex-
pedient, in attempting the general diffusion of
knowledge, that every young person should be
taught to delineate, on any emergency, whatever
phenomena or processes of nature, or operations
of art, may be thought worthy of being depicted
and recorded.

SECTION IV.
Arithmetic.

Arithmetic is the science which explains the
properties and relations of numbers, and the
method of computing by them. A knowledge
of this subject should form a part of every system
of education, as its principles and rules form the
groundwork of all the computations connected
with commerce, geometry, mensuration, geogra-
phy, astronomy, navigation, and other depart-
ments of science.

Previous f>o engaging in the regular study of
this science, and attempting its more complex op-,
eralions, the general properties of numbers should
be familiarly illustrated by sensible representations,
in a manner similar to what is generally practiced
in infant schools. This may be done either in pri-
vate by an intelligent parent, or in a public school,
as an occasional amusL'ment for those who have
not entered on the regular study of arithmetic;
which would prepare them for understanding its
fundamental rules and computations. A variety
of movable objects, as peas, beans, beads, mar-
bles, cubes, &c. may be provided, — or perhaps
small pieces of wood cut in the shape of cubes
or parallelepipeds, as they do not roll, may be
more convenient for this purpose — and a method
such as the following, corresponding to the spirit
and plan of Pestalozzi, may be pursued. The
teacher, placing one of the cubes before tiie child-
ren says, " This is one cube;" the children at the
same time repeat, "This is one cube." The teacher,
adding another, says, " These are two cubes,"
which the children likewise repeat. This process
may be continued until they advance to the num-
ber ten. Then, taking all the cubes from the table,
and throwing down four, the question is put,
How many cubes are on the table? which the
children, after having been for some time familiar-
ized to this mode of notation, will be able to
answer. In like manner, other numbers may bo
successively placed on the table, and similar ques-
tions put. This process may be varied as follows:
Placing a parallelepiped or oblong figure before

70

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

the children, tho teacher may say, "Once one" —
placing another at a little <iislaiice from tlie first,
"Twice one" — adding another, " Tliree times
one;" and so on, making the children repeat the
numbers as the pieces are laid down. Wlun the
ten oblongs are thus arranged at equal distances
and in a straight line, such questions as the fol-
lowing may be put. How many oblongs are
there on the table? Do they lie close together?
Is the first oblong placed nearer to the second
than the second is to the third? Do their long
sides lie in the direction of the window or of the
door, &c.? Could they be placed diiferently with-
out changing either their number or distance?
Wheu these questions are answered, they may
then be desired either to shut their eyes or to
turn their backs to the table, when three oblongs
may be taken away, and the second moved nearer
the first, and the question put, How many ob-
longs are there now? The cliildren, having
counted them, will say, "There are seven.'" How
many were there before? "Ten." How many
have I taken away? " Tliree." Did these ob-
longs undergo any other change? "You have
moved that (^pointing to it) nearer to the other."
In order to vary these processes as much as possi-
ble, the children should be desired to count the
number of fingers on one or both hands, the
number of buttons on their jackets or waistcoats,
the number of chairs or forms in the room, the
number of books placed on a table or book-shelf,
or any other object that may be near or around
them. By such exercises, the idea of number
and the relative positions of objects would soon
be indelibly impressed on their minds, and their
attention fixed on the subject of instruction.

These exercises may be still farther varied by
drawing, on a large slate or board with chalk,
lines, triangles, squares, circles, or other figures
as under.

D
DO

A
AA

DQD AAA
DDDO AAAA

O

o o
o oo

D

nnn

oooo nana

Having chalked such figures as the above, the
children maybe taught to say, "One line, one
triangle, one circle, one square — two lines, two
triangles, two circles, two squares — three lines,
three triangles, three circles, three squares," &c.
which may be continued to twelve or twenty, or
any other moderate number. They may be like-
wise taught to repeat the numbers either back-
ward or forward, thus: '• One triangle, two tri-
angles, three triangles, four triangles" — "Four
circles, three circles, two circles, one circle."
The nature of the four fundamental rules of
arithmetic may be explained in a similar manner.
Drawing five squares or lines on the board, and
afterward adding three, it would be seen that the
Bum of 5 and 3 is ei(/ht. Drawing twelve circles,

and then rubbing out or crossing three of them,
il will be seen that if 3 be taken from 12, nine
will remain. In like manner, the operations of
multiplication and division might be illustrated.
But it would be needless to dwell on such pro-
cesses, as every intelligent parent and teacher can
vary them to au indefinite extent, and render
them subservient both to the amusement and the
instruction of the young. From the want of
such sensible representations of number, many
young people have been left to the utmost con-
fusion of thought in their first arithmetical pro-
cesses, and even many expert calculators hava
remained through life ignorant of the rationale
of the operations they were in the habit of per-
forming.

When the arithmetical pupil proceeds to the
compound rules, as they are termed, care §hould
be taken to convey to his mind a well-defined
idea of the relative value of money — the difierent
measures of length, and their proportion to one
another — the relative bulks or sizes of the mea-
sures of solidity and capacity — angular measures,
or the divisions of the circle — square measure — and
the measure of tiine. The value of money may
be easily represented, by placing six penny pieces
or twelve halfpennies in a row, and placing a six-
pence opposite to them as the value in silver; by
laying five shillings in a similar row, with a
crown piece opposite ; and twenty shillings, or
four crowns, with a sovereign opposite, as the
value in gold; and so on, with regard to other
species of money. To convey a clear idea of
measures of length, in every school there should
be accurate models or standards of an inch, a foot,
a 7jard, and a pole. The relative proportions whicii
these measures bear to each other should be fami-
liarly illOstrated, and certain objects fixed upon,
either in the school or the adjacent premises, such
as the length of a table, the breadth of a walk,
the extent of a bed of flowers, &c., by wliich the
lengths and proportions of such measures may
be indelibly imprinted on the mind. The num-
ber of yards or poles in a furlong or in a mile,
and the exact extent of such lineal dimensions,
may be ascertained by actual measurement, and
then posts may be fixed at the extremities of the
distance, to serve as a standard of such measures.
The measures of surface may be represented by
square boards, an inch, a foot, and a yard square.
The extent of a perch or rod may be shown by
marking a plot of that dimension in the school
area or garden ; and the superficies of an acre
may be exhibited by setting oflT a square plot in
an adjacent field, which shall contain the exact
number of yards or links in that dimension, and
marking its boundaries with posts, trenches, fur-
rows, hedges, or other contrivances. Measures
of capacity and solidity should be represented by
models or standard measures. The gill, the pint,
the quart, and the gallon, the peck and the bushel,
should form a part of the furniture of every school,
in order that their relative dimensions may be
clearly perceived. The idea of a solid foot may
"be represented by a box made exactly of that di-
mension; and the iceights used in commerce may
be exhibited both to the eye and the sense of
feeling, by having an ounce, a pound, a stone, and
a hundred-weight, made of cast-iron, presented to
view in their relative sizes, and by causing the
pupil occasionally to lift them, and feel their relative
weights. Where these weights and measures
cannot be conveniently obtained, a general idea of
their relative size may be imparted by means of
figures, as under.

Angular measure, or the divisions of the circle,

CIRCLE OF WEEKS AND MONTHS.

71

STONE. POUND. OUNCE.

might be represented by means of a very large
circle, divided into degrees and minutes, formed
on a thin deal board or pasteboard; and two in-
dexes might be made to revolve on its center, for
t!ie purpose of exhibiting angles of different de-
grees of magnitude, and showing what is meant
by the measurement of an angle by degrees and
minutes. It might also be divided into twelve
parts, to mark the signs or great divisions of the
zodiac. From the want of exhibitions of this
kind, and the necessary explanations, young per-
sons generally entertain very confused concep-
tions on such subjects, and have no distinct ideas
of the difference between minutes of time, and
minutes of space. In attempting to convey an
idea of the relative proportions of duration, we
should begin by presenting a specific illustration
of the unit of time, namely, the duration of a se-
cond. This may be done by causing a pendulum
of 39i inches in length to vibrate, and desiring
the pupils to mark the time which intervenes be-
tween its passing from one side of the curve to
the other, or by reminding them that the time in
which we deliberately pronounce the word twenty-
one, nearly corresponds to a second. The dura-
tion of a minute may be shown by causing the
pendulum to vibrate 60 times, or by counting
deliberately from twenty to eiglity. The hours,
half-hours, and quarters, may be illustrated by
means of a common clock; and tiie pupils might
occasionally be required to note the interval
that elapses during the performance of any scho-
lastic e.\ercise. The idea of weeks, months,
and years, might be conveyed by means of a
large circle or long stripe of pasteboard, which
might be made either to run along one side of the
school, or to go quite round it. The stripe or
circle might be divided into .365 or 366 equal parts,
and into 12 great divi-sions corn-sponding to the
months, and 52 divisions corresponding to the
number of weeks in a year. The months might
be distinguished by being piiinted with different
colors, and the termination of each week by a
biacK perpendicular line. This apparatus might
be rendered of use for familiarizing the young to
the regular succession of the months and seasons;
and for this purpose they might be requested, at
least every week, to point out on the circle the
particular month, week, or day, corresponding
to the time when sucli exercises are given.

Such minute illustrations may, perhaps, appear
to some as almost superfluous. But, in the in-
struction of the young, it may be laid down as a
soajc-m, that we can never be too minute and

FLOOR AND ROOr.

specific in our explanations. We generally err
on the opposite extreme, in being too vague and
general in our instructions, taking for granted
that the young have a clearer knowledge of first
principles and fundamental facts than what they
really possess. I have known schoolboys who
had been long accustomed to calculations con-
nected with the compound rules of arithmetic,
wi)o could not tell whether a pound, a .stone, or a
ton, was the heaviest weight — whether a gallon
or a hogshead was the largest measure, or whether
they were weights or measures of capacity —
whether a square pole or a square acre was the
larger dimension, or whether a pole or a furlong
was the greater measure of length. Confining
their attention merely to the numbers contained
in their tables of weights and measures, they
multiply and divide according to the ordc of the
numbers in these tables, without annexing to
them any definite ideas: and hence it happens that
they can form no estimate whether an arithmeti-
cal operation bo nearly right or wrong, until tliey
arc told the answer winch they ought to bring
out. Hence, likewise, it happens that, in the
process of reduction, they so frequently invert the
order of procedure, and treat tons as if they were
ounces, and ounces as if they were tons. Such
errors and misconceptions would generally be
avoided were accurate ideas previously conveyed
of the relative values, proportions, and capacities*
of the money, weights, and measures used iu
commerce.

Again, in many
cases, arithmetical
processes might be
illustrated by dia-
grams, fi.gures, and
pictorial ropresenta-
tiov- The follow-
ing question is sta-
ti'd in " Hamilton's
Arithmetic," as an
exercise in simple
mul ti plication —
" How many square
feet in the floor,
roof, and walls of a
room, 2.) feet long,
18 broad, and 15
high ?" It is impos-
sible to convey a
clear idea to an
arithmetical tyro, of
the object of such a
question, or of the
process by which
the true result may
be obtained, without
figures and accom-
panying explana- Breadth, 18.
tions. Yet no previous explanation is given in
the book, of what is meant by the square of any
dimension, or of the method by which it may be
obtained. Figures, such as the foregoing, should
accompany questions of this description.

The idea of superficial measure, and the reason
why we multipljf two sides of a quadrangular
figure in or.ier to obtain the superficial content, •
may bo illusl rated as follows. Suppose a square
table whose sides are 6 feet long, and another
of the form of a parallelogram, 9 feet i n-g and
four feet broad, the superficial feet contained
in these dimensions mav be represented as
below— 6X6=36, and 9x"4=36.

By such a representation it is at once seen
wliat is meant by a square foot, and that the pro-

Lenglh, 25.

SIDE WALLS.

72

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

auct of the length by the breadth of any dimen-
sion, or of tho side of a square by itself, must
necessarily give the number of square feot, yards,

1

7

2

8

3

9

4
10

5
11

6
12

13
19
25
31

14

20
26
32

15
21
27
33

16
22

28
34

17
23
29
35

18
24
30
;i6

inches, &c., in the surface. It will also show
tliat surfaces of very different shapes or extent,
as to length or breadth, may contain the same
superficial dimensions. In the same way we
may illustrate the truth of such positions as the
following: — That there are 144 inches in a square
foot — 9 square feet in a square yard — 160 square

1

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

i 8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17 IS

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

poles in an acre — 640 square acres in a square
mile — 27 cubical feet in a cubical yard, &.c. For
example, tiie number of square feet in a square
yard, or in two square yards, &c., may be repre-
sented in either of the following modes.

1 Sq. Yard.

1 Square Yard.

I I

2 Sq. Y'ds.

2 Square

Yards.

1 1 1 i 1 1 1 1 1 1
: 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1

II i 1 1 1 { 1 1
11 i 1 1 1 1 1 1

When the dimensions of the mason work of a
house are required, the dilTerent parts of the
building, which require separate calculations, as
the side-walls, the end-walls, the gables, the
chimney-stalks, &c., should be separately de-
lineated; and if such delineations are not found
in the books where the questions are stated, the
pupil, before proceeding to his calculations, should
be desired to sketch a plan of the several dimen-
sions which require his attention, in order that
he may have a clear conception of the operations
before him. Such questions as the following
ahould likewise be illustrated by diacrr^ms. "Glas-
gow is 44 miles west from Edinburgh; Peebles is
exactly south from Edinburgh, and 49 miles in a
straight line from Glasgow. What is the distance
between Edinburgh and Peebles ?" This ques-
tion is taken from "Hamilton's Arithmetic," and
Is inserted as one of the exercises connected

with the extraction of the Square Root; but no

figure or explanation is given, exce])tiug tho

oi.ASuow. 44 miles. BDiNsniibu.

PEEBLES.

following foot-note. " The square of the hy-
potenuse of a right-angled triangle, is equal to
the sum of the squares of the other two sides."
It should be represented as above.

In a similar manner should many other exam-
ples connected with the extraction of roots be illus-
trated. The following question can scarcely be
understood, or performed, without an illustrative
figure, and yet there is no figure given, nor
hint suggested on the subject, in the book
from which it is taken. " A ladder, 40 feet
long, may be so placed as to reach a window
33 feet from the ground, on one side of the street;
and by only turning it over, without moving the
foot out of its place, it will do the same by a win-
dow 21 feet high on the other side. Required the
breadth of the street?" The following is the rep-
resentation that should be given, which, with a
knowledge of the geometrical proposition men-
tioned above, will enable an arithmetical tyro to per-
form the operation, and to perceive the reason of it.

By this figure the pupil will see that his calcu-
lations must have a respect to two right-angled
triangles, of which he has two sides of each given
to find the other sides, the sum of which will be
the breadth of the street. The nature of fractions
may be illustrated in a similar manner. As frac-
tions are parts of a unit, the denominator of any
fraction may be considered as the number of parts
into which the unit is supposed to be divided.
The following fractions, f .l-,^^) may therefore be
represented by a delineation, as follows:
9 parts.

I I ! I i I I I I I

2 parts =f

12 parts.

I I I

7 parts

5 parts.

III! 1

4 parts

Mill

METHOD OF TEACHING GRAMMAR.

73

By such delineations, the nature of a fraction,
and tlie value of it, may be rendered obvious to
the eye of a pupil. A great many other questions
and processes in arithmetic might, in tliis way,
be rendered clear and interesting to the young
practitioner in numbers; and where such sensible
representations have a tendency to elucidate any
process, they ought never to be omitted. In ele-
mentary books on arithmetic, such delineations
and illustrations should frequently be given; and,
where they are omitted, the pupil should be in-
duced to exert liis own judgment and imagination,
in order to delineate whatever process is suscepti-
ble of sucb tangible representations.

I shall only remark furtli^^r, on this head, that
the quistions given as exercises in the several rules
of arithmetic, should be all of a practical nature,
or such as will gen-^rally occur in the actual busi-
ness of life — that the suppositions stated in auy
question should all be consistent with real facts
and occurrences — that facts in relation to com-
■ merce, geography, astronomj', natural philosophy,
M statistics, and other sciences, should be selected as
B exercises Lu the different rules, so that the pupil,
W ^ while engaged in numerical calculations, may at
P the same time be increasing his stock of general
knowledge — and that questions of a trivial nature,
which are only intended to puzzle and perplex, with-
out having any practical tendency, be alt ogetlier dis-
carded. In many of our arithmetical books for the
use of schools, questions and exercises, instead of
being expressed in clear and definite terms, are fre-
quently stated in such vague and indefinite lan-
guage that their object and meaning can scarcely
be appreciated by the teacher, and far less by
his pupils: and exercises are given which have a
tendency only to puzzle and confound the learner,
without being capable of being applied to any one
nseful object or operation. Such questions as the
following may ba reckoned among this class.
" Suppose £2 and f of ^ of a pound sterling will
buy three yards and 3- of j of a yard of cloth, how
much will y^y or f of a yard cost?" " The num-
ber of scholars hi a school was BO; there v/ere one-
half moro in the second form than in the first;
the number in the third was f of that in the sec-
ond; and in the fourth, f of the third. How
many were there in each form?"

In some late publications, such aa " Butler's
Arithmetical Exercises," and " Chalmers' Intro-
duction to Arithmetic," a considerable variety of
biograpl.ical, historical, scientific, and miscella-
neous information is interspersed and connected
with the different questions and exercises. If the
facts and processes alluded to in such publications
were sometimes represented by accurate pictures
and delineations, it would tend to give the young
an interest in the subject of their calculations,
and to convey to their uiiaJs clear ideas of objects
and operations, which cannot be so ea.sily impart-
ed by mere verbal descriptions; and consequently,
would be adding to tlieir store of general informa-
tion. The expense of books constructed on this
plan, ought to be no obstacle in the way of their
publication, when we consider the vast importance
of conveying well-defined conceptions to juv'enile
minds, and of rendering every scholastic exercise
iu which they engage interesting and delightful.

SECTION V

Grammar.

Grammar, considered in its most extensive sense,
being a branch of the philosophy of mind, the

study of it requires a considerable degree of men-
tal exertion; and is, therefore, in its more abstract
and minute details, beyond the comprehension of
mere children. Few things are more absurd and
preposterous than the practice, so generally prev-
alent, of attempting to teach grammar to children
of five or six years of age, by making them com-
mit to memory its definitions and technical
rules, wliich to them are nothing else than a col-
lection of unmeaning sounds. In most instances
they might as well be employed in repeating the
names of the Greek characters, the jingles of the
nursery, or a portion of the Turkish Alcoran.
The following is the opinion of Lord Kaimes on
this point: — " In teaching a language, it is the
universal practice to begin with grammar, and to
do everything by rules. I affirm this to be a most
preposterous method. Grammar is contrived for
men, not for children. Its natural place is be-
tween language and logic: it ought to close lec-
tures on the former, and to be the first lectures on
the latter. It is a gross deception that a language
cannot be taught without rules. A boy who is
flogged into grammar rules, makes a shift to apply
them; but he applies them by rote like a parrot-
Boys, for the knowledge they acquire of a language
are not indebted to dry rules, but to practice and
observation. To this daj', I never think without
shuddering, of Disputer's Grammar, which was
my daily persecution during the most important
period of my life. Deplorable it is that young
creatures should be so punished, without being
guilty of anj' fault, more than sufficient to pro-
duce a disgust at learning, instead of promoting
it. Whence then this absurdity of persecuting
boys with grammar rules?"

In most of our plans of education, instead of
smoothing the path to knowledge, we have been
careful to throw numerous difficulties and obsta-
cles, in the way. Not many years ago, we had
two characters for the letter s, one of them so like
the letter f, that, in many cases, the difference could
not be perceived. We had likewise compound
letters, such as ct, il, f h, iScc, joined together in
such an awkward manner, tliat the young could
not distinguish them as the same letters they had
previously recognized in their separate state; so
that, in addition to the ungracious task of learn-
ing the letters of the alphabet in their insulated
state, under the terror of the lash, they had to ac-
quire the names and figures of a new set of char-
acters, before they could peruse the simplest les-
sons in their primers. Such characters, it is to
be hoped, are now forever discarded. We have
still, however, an absurd practice in our diction-
aries and books of reference, which tends to per-
plex not only our tyros, but even our advanced
students, when turning up such works — I mean
the practice of confounding the letters I and J,
and the letters U and V, which are as distinct
from each other as a vowel is from a consonant;
so that all the words beginning with J must bfl
sought for under the letter I, and the wonls begin-
ning with V under the letter U, causing to every
one a certain degree of trouble and perplexity,
when searching for words beginning with any of
these letters. Most of our school Dictionaries and
Encyclopedias are still arranged on this absurd
principle, which should now be universally dis-
carded.

In the construction of our books of Grammar
for the use of children, — instead of facilitating
this study, we have done everything to render it
as dry and intricate as possible. We have defini-
tions, general rules, exceptions to thes;- rules, de-
clensions and conjugations, profusely scattered

74

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

throuffhoul every part of these scholastic manuals,
and a cart-load of syntactical rules and examples,
nil of which mustof course he cran\med, like a mass
of rubbish, into the memories of the iittli; urchins,
although tliey should not attach a single correct
idea to any portion of sucji scholastic exercises
Nothing can be more simple than the Eiu/lish verb,
which, unHke the Greek and Latin verb, has only
two or three varieties in its termination; yet, we
perplex the learner with no less than six different
tenses — the present, the imperfect, the perfect, the
pluperfect, the first future, and tiie future perfect,
— while nature and common sense point out only
</(ree distinctions of ^ime in which an action may
be performed; namely, the jjo^i, the present, and
the future, which of bourse are subject to a lew
modifications. On the same principle on which
we admit six tenses, we might introduce nearly
double that number. Hence a celebrated gram-
marian, Mr. Harris, in a dissertation on this sub-
ject, enumerates no fewer than twelve tenses. It
is quite easy to make a child understand that a
man is now striking a piece of iron with a ham-
mer, that he did the same thing yesterday, and
will perform the same action to-morrow, — in
other words, that an action was performed at some
pcist time, is performing now, or will be performed
at some /(/<«re period; but it is almost impossible
to convey to his mind a clear idea of twelve, or even
of six tenses, although a hundred distinctions and
definitions should be crammed into his memory.
A disposition to introduce quibbling and useless
metaphysical distinctions has been the baue of
theology, and one of the causes of the divisions of
the Christian church. A siinilar disposition has
rendered grammar perplexing and uninteresting
to young minds, and pre'vented them from under-
standing or appreciating its nature and general
principles. By attempting too much, in the first
Instance — by gorging their memories with all the
distinctions, modifications, and rules, which gram-
marians have thought proper to inculcate, — we
have produced a disgust at tlie study, when, by at-
tempting nothing more than they were able clear-
ly to comprehend, we might have rendered it both
delightful and instructive. There are, properly
speaking, no oblique cases in English nouns, ex-
cepting the possessive ca.se, and yet, in some gram-
mars, we have six cases specified, similar to those
of Latin nouns; and in almost every book on
grammar, three cases at least are considered as
belonging to English nouns. On the same princi-
ple, we might affirm that there are as many cases
as there are prepositions in the language; for every
combination of a preposition with a noun forms a
distinct relation, and consequently may be said to
constitute a distinct case. Were it expedient in
this place, many such remarks might be offered in
reference to the absurdities and intricacies of our
grammatical systems, and the perplexing and in-
efficient modes by which a knowledge of this sub-
ject is attempted to he communicated.

In communicating to the young a knowledge
of grammar, or of any other subject, that plan
which is the easiest and the most interesting
should of course be adopted. All intricate and
abstruse definitions and discussions ought to be
avoided, and nothing attempted but what is level
to their comprehensions, and which may be illus-
trated and explained by sensible images and repre-
sentations. In endeavoring to impart a general
Idea of the elements of grammar, I would, in the
first instance, lead the pupils to a position where
they would have a distinct view of an extensive
landscape, where they might see either ships sail-
ing, birds flying, windmills in motion, men dig-

ging the ground, or working with saws and ham-
mers, carriages moving, or reapers cutting down
the corn. I would then inform them (if they are
acquainted with numbers), that there are about
tifty thousand words in the English language, but
that they may be reduced to about eight liitferent
classes,* or kinds; or, in other words, that all th«
words they see in the different books that come
into their hands, however numerous they may
appear, may be arranged into these classes. I
would next tell them that one of these kinds of
words is called nouns, or terms which express the
names of all kinds of objects, and desire them to
point out, in the landscape before them, some of
those objects designated nouns. They would find
no difficulty in complying with such a requisition,
and instanti)', " a house, a tree, a ship, a church,
a flower, a man, a horse," and similar names,
would be cheerfully vociferated. They would
next be told that certain qualities or properties be-
long to every object; that a house may be high or
kiic, large or small, ivhite, gray or red — a tree, tall,
thick, or slender — that a feather is ligM — gn\d,heavy
— butter, soft, &c.: and that the words, high, low,
light, heavy, soft, &c.; belong to that class termed
adjectives, or words expressive oi qualities. Some
particular objects might then be mentioned, and
the pupils requested to point out some of the
qualites which they may possess. For example,
Boy. After two or three qualities that a boy may
possess are stated, they would soon apply the ad-
jectives, good, bad, lazy, diligent, tall, handsome,
mischievous, beautiful, and other qualities A
Table, round, oval, square, oblong, high, low, long,
short, &c., adding the word table to each of these
qualities. To diversify this exercise a little, a
quality might be mentioned, and the pupils de-
sired to name any objects to which it will apply..
For instance, the quality Round, — when such
answers as the following might be given, " A hat
is round, a wafer is round, a saucer is round, a
shilling is round, the sun and moon are round."
In like manner, High, which applies to towers,
mountains, trees, the clouds; and Soft, which ap-
plies to butter, dough, jelly, sUme, pudding,
snow, &c.

I would next direct their attention to that class
of words which express actions, and request them
to look around upon the landscape, and tell me if
they perceive anything in motion, or shifting its
position from one place to another (for motion,
either mental or corporeal, is implied in every
action). Should they hesitate in answering this
request, an instance or two may be pointed out;
but they will seldom be at a loss, and will at once
reply — "Ships are moving — birds are flying —
the horse is trotting — men are walking — the ma-
son is breaking stones — the trees are waving — the
laborer is digging the earth." They may also be
told to stretch out their hands, to walk a few steps,
to strike the ground with a rod, to look up to the
sky, or to perform any other action that may

* The words in the English language have generally been
arranged into 7iinc classes, or "parts of speech;" but it ap-
pears almost nnnecessary to consiiier the article and the in-
terjection as distinct parts of speech, particularly the inter-
jection, which is not necessary to the construction of a
sentence, being only thrown in to express the emotion of
the speaker. It is proper, however, that the nature and use
of these words be explained to the young. Perhaps all tho
words essential to language might be arranged into the four
following classes; A''ouns, Mtrihutivcs (or adjectives),
J]Jnnnaiivef!, and Connectives. Such arrangements, how-
ever, are of little importance, provided we convey a clear
idea to those whom we instruct of the leading parts of
speech which are essential to language, and be careful not
to perplex their attention with too naiaate or unnecessary
divisions.

RULES OF SYNTAX.

75

be judged expedient, and then informed, that the
words expressive of such actions, as loalking,
striking, breaking, Jlying, &c. are denotniuated
verbs. Having engaged them several times in
such exercises, until a clear idea of the nature of
a verb is communicated, it will be easy to explain
the difference between active and neuter verbs,
and the three tenses, i\\epast, the present, and the
future. They may be told, for example, that
masons broke stones yesterday, and will break
stones to-morrow — that James mroie a letter to
his cousin a few days ago, and will probably write
another in a few days hence — and that birds Jlew
through the air last year, and will fly in the same
manner in the year to come. The quality of an
action, and the manner in which it may be per-
formed, or any circumstance that happens to be
connected with it, may also be explained and
illustrated. Thus, tliey may be asked. In what
manner the clouds move, and the birds fly — sloidy
or sitiflly? In what manner the laborer performs
liis work — slovenly or neathj, cheerfully or heavily?
In what manner the river runs — snwofhly or rap-
idly? How James behaves during the time of
instruction — atlenlivdy or foolishly? How the
house to which I point is situated — pleasantly,
awkicardly, or disagreeably? They may then be
told, that such terms as slowly, swiftly, smoothly,
pleasantly, <fec. which express certain qualities of
actions, constitute another class of words, denom-
inated adverbs.

Words which express the relations in which
objects stand to each other, may be next pointed
out. They may be directed to observe that a
certain house (pointing to it) stands near a tower,
a river, or a large tree — that a house on the rigiit
hand is distant from another on the left — that the
clouds are placed above the earth — that the grass
is under our feet, and that a certain mansion is
situated upon the declivity of a hill. Such re-
lations might also be illustrated by desiring one
of the pupils to walk to a certain point, suppose
a tree, and then to return from that point to his
former position; — or, to place himself in a posi-
tion before i\v- rest of the pupils, and afterward
in a position behind them — when the relative po-
sitions of objects denoted by the terms near, above,
to, and from, before, and behind, may be familiarly
explained, and designated by the word prepositions.

An idea may be given of another class of words,
which stand instead of names, by asking such
questions as these: — How does that house look
among the trees, on the opposite bank of the
river? The answer might be, "/i looks beauti-
fully." How does that lady walk? She walks
gracefully. Wliat kind of a scliolar is John?
He is a good scholar. What did two wicked boys
do to Arthur a few daj's ago? They struck him
with their fists. By such examples, it will be easy to
show that the words it, she, he, stiind in the place
of house, lady, and John; that they and their refer
to the wicked boijs, and that him stands instead
of Arthur. They may be then informed, that
such words are distinguished by the name pro-
nouns; and, by a few more familiar instructions,
they may be made acquainted with the nature
and use of the nominative, possessive, and objec-
tive cases, both singular and plural, by which
they are varied. In a similar way the nature and
use of the article and of conjunctions may be pointed
out and illustrated. Tlie plan now described may
be varied, by directing the attention of the young
to the objects contained in a parlor or a school-
room— or, a large engraved landscape, accurately
colored, containing a considerable variety of ob-
jects, and representing various artificers at work,

and objects in motion, might be placed before
them, and used for the same purpose as a real
landscape — or, they may bo desired to form an
imaginary picture, every one being called upon
to specify tlie objects they wish to be put into the
picture, along with their qualities, and the actions
and movements they wish to have exhibited.
This picture may either be merely iimiginary, or
it may be rudely sketched with a pencil on a
sheet of paper. One may desire that an elegant
mansion may be placed in it ; another, a church
with a spire, and near it a small cottage; another
may wish to see exhibited, a smith hannnering
his iron, or a few persons fishing in a river; and
another, a school and play-ground, a cotton-man-
ufactory, or a steam-vessel sweeping along the
river. — The exhibitions at a market or fair, a
public procession, boys and girls at play, a festive
entertainment, with all its accompaniments, the
scenes of a sea-port, or any other scene connected
with nature or human society, might be conceived
or delineated for this purpose, and grammatical
exercises connected with it in the manner now
illustrated. I should, however, prefer a real land-
scape, as it appears on a fine day of summer or
autumn, to any other exhibition; as real objects
make a more lively impression on the mind than
any picture can produce, and the view of a beau-
tiful landscape, in the open air, is attended with
the idea of liberty, freedom from formal tasks,
and various exhilarating circumstances. And it
ought never to be forgotten, that, b)"^ connecting
the process of education with varied and pleasant
associations,- we gradually enlarge the sphere «f
juvenile knowledge, and impress more deeply on
the youthful mind the instructions we intended
to impart. By a few occasional lessons, in the
way of amusement, on the plan now stated,
which may be varied in every possible mode,
more correct ideas of the parts of speech may be
communicated, than v.'ha.i is generally done in a
year or two by the dry and abstract modes in
wliich this branch of instruction has usually been
conducted.

Such a plan of instruction appears to be sug-
gested by the mode in which we may conceive
language to liave been originally formed. Were
we to suppose man just now created, and placed
for the first time on the surface of this globe, his
attention would, in the first place, be directed
to the various objects which he beheld existing
around him. These he would endeavor, by some
means, to distinguish one from another; and, if it
were his design to invent a language by which he
might hold a communication with other rational
beings, his first efiort would undoubtedly be, to
give them names by which the ideas of them
might be at any time recalled, when the objects
themselves Vi'ere absent from his view. These
form a copious source of words, whicli must be
common to evei-y language formed for the com-
miuiication of thought among intelligent beings,
wherever existing, throughout the immensity of
the universe. He would likewise soon discover
that every one of the objects around him was
endowed with certain attributes or qualities, to
express which another class of words or signs
would be requisite. In the course of his further
survey, he would perceive certain changes,
motions, and events, such as the ebbing and
flowing of the sea, the rising and setting of the
sun, the flight of birds, the movements of quad-
rupeds, &c., the expression of which would
require a class of words distinct from the former
These classes comprehend all the words which
can be deemed essential to language, or to a

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

mutual int.prchango of sontimonts between ra-
tiomil bein>,'s. lu the progress of tlie foriniitiou
of kingir.iije, however, otiier words would be
found highly expeelieiit, for the purpose of ease
or ornament, for connecting the different parts
of a discourse, or to avoid circuiuloculions or
disagreeable repetitions; and hence the invention
of pronouns, prepositions, and conjunctions. If
this appears to have been t!ie process by which
language was originally formed, it likewise sug-
gests the proper mode by whicli a general
knowledge of the object, use, and com|)onent
parts of language may bo communicated to the
young.

With regard to Syntax, i\\ many of our initia-
tory grammars, there are between thirty and forty
syntactical rules, many of them long and complex,
and accompanied with numerous explanations,
distinctions, and exceptions, all of which are in-
tended to be crammed verbatim into tlie memory
of the grammatical tyro, whether he understand
them or not, and however ungracious and irksome
the task assigned him. Is such a task necessary
to be imposed, in the first instance? and, if im-
posed, will it tend to inspire the pupil with a
greater relish for grammatical studies, or render
him more accurate in the art of composition? I
have no hesitation in answering such questions in
the negative. Although all the rules alluded to
were admitted to be useful, it would be highly in-
expedient to burden and perplex a young person
with such exercises, when communicating the
first elements of grammatical arrangement, es-
pecially when he cannot be supposed to have a
clear conception of the meaning and application
of the greater part of such rules. What idea, for
exrmiple, can a child of six or seven years have
of such a sentence as the following, which forms
onh" the one-fourth part of the 3&th rule of syntax,
in Blair's Grammar — " The same adjectives, ad-
verbs, and prepositions, are always understood to
apply to their respective parts of speech, when
connected by conjunctions; so that, if either of
them be changed in the next clause of the sen-
tence, or the mood or tense of the verb be changed,
the nominative or its pronoun must be repeated,"
— or of the following, which forms another part
of the same rule — " All the parts of a sentence
should correspond with each other, and a regular
and similar construction be carefully preserved
throughout; and this corresponding analogy in
the construction of sentences constitutes the prin-
cipal charm of elegant composition."*

I am fully convinced that, in the first instance,
it is quite unnecessary to advert to more than
three or four fundamental rules in syntax, in
order to direct the young in the general construc-
tion of sentences. There is one principal rule,
which, if punctually observed, would prevent any
egregious blunder from being committed either
in speaking or writing, — and that is, "A verb
should agree with its nominative in number and

* Mr Blair, in his Preface to the Grammar alluded to,
says, " A grammar for the nse of schools should not contain
anything snpcrjliious," and " everything should be ex-
presseil in the smallest numher of -words," — which are cer-
tainly good maxims, and yet some of his syntactical rules
occupy nearly a page. He immediately adds, " Whatever
it is desirable young people should know, they must learn
h:i rote — the memory is the onlu facultti of children of
which teachers can properly avail themselves, and it is a
vain attempt to address their immature powers of reason
and reflection." Such sentiments are rather too antiquated
for the nineteenth century. This gentleman, whether his
name be real or fictitious, has succeeded much better in
the execution of his " Class-Book," and his " Grammar of
Natural Philosophy," than in his " Practical Grammar of
ihe English language."

person." Tliis might be called, with some pro-
priety, </teii«/e of syntax — a rule which is short
and simple, which can be easily explained and
coinpreheiided, on the observation of which tho
meaning of a sentence frequently depends, and a
rule, in short, which is most frequently violated,
even by good writers, especially when their sen-
tences are long and complex. To this rule I
would add the following — "Active verbs and
prepositions govern the objective case of pronouns;"
and, in order to prevent such inaccurate expres-
sions as "more better," "more dearer," &c., the
rule, "Double comparatives and superlatives are
improper," may be added. Exercises might also
be given to illustrate the two following rules —
" The past participle should be used after the verbs
have and be;" and "The verb to be, should have
the same case after it as before it." It ought
never to be forgotten, that the babit of accurate
composition depends more 'on practice, and the
study of good writers, than on a multitude of
rules; and I appeal ta every one who is in the
habit of composing, whether, in the moment of
committing liis thoughts to writing, he ever
thinks of the rules of syntax, except, perhaps,
some of those now specified. I have known an
individual, in the lower walks of life, who had
never been taught grammar, nor perused any
book on the subject — who wrote essays on physi-
cal subjects, which might have been inserted with
propriety (and some of them were actually in-
serted) in respectable scientific journals. The
only inaccuracy which appeared was an occasional
violation of the first rule of syntax above stated.
A more correct idea of the construction of sen-
tences will be conveyed to the young by the oc-
casional remarks of a judicious teacher, during
theil" reading lessons — by exercising them ic^.-
quently on the rules above stated, particularly
the first — in causing them to correct ungram-
matical sentences — and by pointing out the
inaccuracies which occur in their written com-
positions,— than by all the formal rules that nan
be packed into their memories.

AH the instructions alluded to above may be
imparted without the assistance of any book or
manual of grammar, and that, too, almost in the
way of amusement. When the pupil has arrived
at the age of 13 or 14 years, such books as
" Murray's English Grammar," and " Irvine's
Elements of English Composition," may be put
into his hands for private perusal, where he will
meet with a number of minute remarks and ob-
servations on the subject, which may be worthy
of his attention. But, at the same time, he may
be given to understand, that the careful study of
good authors, a clear conception of the subject to
which his attention is directed, and the exercise
of judgment, taste, and common sense, on every
piece of composition, will be of more avail than
any system of abstract rules; and that a breach
of some of the rules laid down by grammarians
may sometimes be as proper as a strict observance
of tliem. In short, in training children to accu-
racy, both in grammar and orthoepy, it might
have a good effect were care uniformly taken,
both in the school and the parlor, to correct every
expression in their ordinary conversation that is
ungrammatical, or incorrect in their pronuncia-
tion— to explain the reasons of the correctiofis,
and to endeavor, on all occasions, to induce them
to express their thoughts with propriety and pre
cision. In the schools in Scotland every child
should be taught to pronounce the English lan-
guage with accuracy, even in his common con-
versation, so that tlie Scottish language may b«

FIGURE OF THE EARTH.

77

eiUr]«ated as soon as possible^ since it will never
ftgain be the language of literature or science.

SECTION VI.
Geography.

Geography is a brancli of knowledge with
fthich every individual of the human race ought
to be, in some measure, acquainted. It is
scarcely consist'Uit with the character of a ra-
tional being, surrounded by the immensity of the
works of God, to feel no de.-;ire to become ac-
quainted with these works, and, particularly, to
remain in ignorance of the form, magnitude,
component parts, and general arrangements of
the terrestrial habitation allotted for his abode. It
is equally iiiconsi-^tent with a principle of benevo-
lence, and with the relations in which he stands
to beings of the same nature and destination, to
remain altogether unacquainted with the physical
and moral condition of other tribes of his fellow-
men, and to feel no interest in alleviating their
miseries or promoting their improvement. .It is
even inconsistent with the spirit of religion and
the duties of a Christian, to remain in indilTerence
with regard to geographical knowledge, for " the
field " of Christian labor and benevolence is " the
world," with its numerous tribes of inliabitants,
which it is the great object of this science to in-
vestigate and describe. As t!ie depositories of
Revelation, of '•' the good tidings of great joy,"
which are intended to be communicated "to all
people,'''' we are bound to study this subject in all
its bearings and relations, and to teach it to our
eWldren, and our children's children, that they
may feel an interest in tlic moral condition of the
Inhabitants of distant lands, and emploj- their en-
ergies in diffusing Divine knowledge, in counter-
acting moral evils, in abolishing the system of
warfare, and preparing the way for a harmonious
intercourse among all the families of the earth.
Ihis science, therefore, ouglit to form a subject
of study in every seminary devoted to the instruc-
tion of the young. Yet it is a fact, that, in the
pre.«ent state of society, we find thousands of our
ielli w-men almost as ignorant as the horse or the
muie, of the arrangements of the world in which
th«y dwell, and of the various tribes of human
beings with whicH|it is peopled — as if they had
no connection with their brethren of the same
family, nor any common relation to the Universal
Parent who gave them existence.

This study, like many other scholastic exerci-
ses, has too frequently been conducted in a dry
and uninteresting manner, and very inadequate
ideas communicated of its grand feature;, and
leading objects. Lists of the names of towns,
cities, countries, rivers, bays, and gulfs, have been
imposed as tasks to the memory, without any
correspondiii;T ideas; and the mechanical exercises
of copying iiuips, and twirling an artificial globe,
have not unfreq'iently been substituted for clear
and comprehensive views of the leading facts and
principles of the science. Phijsical geography
has been almost entirely oniitted in the initiatory
books on this suljject; and nio'^t of them are con-
structed on this principle, that the meager de-
scriptions and details they cont:^;!! shall be com-
mitted to memnry by rote. In thi^ way, months
and even years have been spent, an.l as little real
knowledge of geography acquired, as there is of
theology by the common routine of committing
lo memory the vocables cf the " Church Cato-

VoL. I.— 31

chism," or the Westminster Assembly's Synopsis
of Divinity.

In communicating a knowledge of geography,
it is requisite, in the first place, to give the young
a clear and impressive idea of the size, form, com-
ponent parts, and general arrangements of the
earth, considered simply as an object of contem-
plation, and a part of the creation of God. In
stating to a class of pupils that " the earth is
round like a ball," the reasons or arguments vvhich
prove this position should be clearly and familiarly
illustrated. If they are near the sea-coast, they
should be conducted to the margin of the sea, to
observe how the hull of a ship, leaving the shore,
disappears, near the horizon, before the sails, and
the sails before the topmast; and a telescope
should be provided, that the observation may be
made with perfect distinctness. They may be in-
formed, at the same time, that a ship disappears
from the view, in tlic same manner, m all parts of
the ocean; and if so, the. ocean must form a part
of the surface of a sphere; and if the ocean, with
its numerous ramifications of seas, straits, and
gulfs, be of a spherical form, the surface of the
land must be nearly of the same figure, since it is
nearly on the same level as tlie sea, no part of it
rising more than a mile or two above this level,
except the peaks of a few lofty mountains. Where
there is no convenient access to the sea-coast, or
the margin of a lake or river, the same fact may
be illustrated by the appearance of a person going
over the top of a conical hill, — or any waving
tract of ground may be selected, and a little boy
directed to walk from the one extremity to the
other, over the highest point of it; when it will
be perceived, after liaving passed this point, tliat
the lower parts of his body will first disappear,
and that the top of his head will be the last part
of him that will be visible, as represented in the
following figure.

The pupils may next be made to perceive, that
if the earth be round like a globe, we might travel
directly east or west, and, holding on in the same
direction, without turning back, might arrive at
the same point from which we set out; and then
be informed, that the experiment has actually
been made — that ships, at different periods, have
sailed quite round the world, the course of which
may afterward be pointed out on the artificial
globe. But, as these voyages have been made only
in an easterly or westerly direction, they may be
led to understand that, had we no other proofs of
the earth's rotundity, this experiment would only
prove that the eartii is round in one direction,
like a cylinder or a drum. The roundness of the
earth, /ro/n north to soiiih, might, at the same time,
be explained from the fact, that when we travel a
considerable distance from N. to S. or from S. to
N., a number of new stars successively appear iu
the heavens, in the quarter to which we are id-
vancing, while many of those in the opposite
quarter gradually disappear; which could not hap"
pen if the earth were a plane in that direction,
like the longitudinal surface of a cylinder; for, in
this ca.se, we should see all the stars of the hea-
vens, from the North pole to the South, on what-
ever portion of the cylindrical surface we were
supposed to be placed. This might be illustrated
by surrounding a terrestrial globe, oi any other
ball, with a large hoop or circle, about twice or

78

ON THE MORAL LMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

thrice tho diametor of the globe, on which some
of tho stars miglit be reiJi-fseutni. This circle
might be made either of wood or pusleboard,
and the globe williin it connected with a mova-
ble plane to represent Uie Jiorizon, as exhibited iu
the loliowing figure.

In this figure, the tnuer circle represents the
earth; A, the North pole, and B, the South; and
the larger circle, E C F D, a portion of the celes-
tial sphere. It is evident, that if a person be
placed at the equator at G, he will see all the stars
above the horizon C D, in the hemisphere D F C.
If he move to the point H, 45 degrees nearer to
the North pole, the movable plane C D may be
moved in tlie direction E F, to represent the
horizon of that place, when it will evidently ap-
pear that he has now lost sight of all the stars
situated between F and D, and that the pole-star
C, which, in his former position, was in his hori-
zon, is now elevated 45 degrees above it. In a
similar manner it might be shown that no such
difference in the aspect of the starry heavens
could take place, in traveling from South to
North, or from North to South, were the earth
of the form of a cylinder; and consequently, that
the fact above stated proves the rotundity of the
earth in that direction.

That the earth, considered as a whole, notwith-
standing the irregularities caused by its moun-
tains and vales, is of the figure of a sphere, may
be illusti-ated from the phenomenon exhibited du-
ring the progress of an eclipse of the moon. An
explanation of a lunar eclipse, accompanied with
familiar illustrations, will be requisite to be given,
before the proof of the globular figure of the
earth be deduced from this phenomenon. Let the
flame of a candle or gas-lamp represent the sun,
and a wooden ball, supported by a wire represent
the earth ; and let a circle, somewhat less than
the diameter of the ball, be drawn on a piece of
pasteboard, and colored to represent the moon.
Let them be placed at a moderate distance from
each other, and nearly in a straight line, and let
the pupils mark the curve of the shadow of the
ball on the circle repres'iiting the moon, and that
there is no body but one of the figure of a globe
that can project a circular shadoto in every direc-
tion; for, although a counter' or a shilling will
cast a circular shadow in one direction, yet in
every other direction it is either an oval or a
straight line. Hence the conclusion is easily de-
duced, that, if the shadow of the earth falling on
the moon is the cause of an eclipse of that orb,
and if this shadow, so far as it is seen, is always
a portion of a circle, the earth, as a whole, must
be nearly of a globular figure. In order to ren-
der such explanations clear and impressive —
when a visible eclipse of the moon takes place,
young persons should be directed to observe such
a phenomenon with attention — to mark the figure
of the earth's shadow when it first enters on the
eastern margin of the moon — before it leaves its

western edge — and during tlie whole of its pro-
gress along the disc, if it happen to be a partial
eclipse of the moon ; and, alihough they be not
directly engaged in geograpliical studies at the
time, yet such observations will afterward pre-
pare them for understanding such explanations as
now suggested. Such minute illustrations, so far
I'rom being superfluous or unnecessary, arc essen-
tially requisite for producing in tiie tninds of the
young, a rational conviction of the rotundity of
the earth. I have known young ladies, and gen*
tlemen too, who had passed through a scholastic
course of geography, and yetcould»assign no othel
reason for tlieir believing that the earth is globu-
lar, than this, " That their teacher told them so.
and showed them a representation of it by th<
artificial globe." Beside, such specific explana-
tions and illustrations tend to exercise the reason-
ing powers of the young, and to bring to theii
view a varitty of incidental facts and circum-
stances connected with the subject, and thus theii
store of general information is gradually in-
creased.

Having, by such methods as the above, produced
a clear conviction of the spherical form of
the earth, the next step might be to convey an
impressive idea of its magnitude. For this pur-
pose, let a class of young persons be conducted
to an eminence, where they might have a distinct
view of a landscape stretching about eight milei
in every direction. Let their attention be particu-
larly directed to the various objects which com-
pose the scene before them; let them be directed
to consider the vast mass of materials contained
in the hills or mountains which form a portion
of the view — the millions of laborers, and tho
number of years which it w>»uld be requisite to
redupe the whole landscape to a perfect level, — •
the number of trees and shrubs of every kind
contained within the range of their view — the
almost innumerable millions of flowers of every
hue, stalks of corn, blades of grass, mosses al-
most invisible to the naked eye, and vegetables
of every description, which cover every portion
of the landscape — the cattle, sheep, horses, dogs,
and other quadrupeds, and the multitudes of birds,
worms, flying and creeping insects, and micro-
scopic animalculse, which no man can number,
comprehended witiiin the limits of their view —
the number of houses and human beings in the
towns, villages, and hamlets, which are scattered
around, and the labors in which they are em-
ployed— the mass of waters in the rivers, and in
that portion of the ocean which lies before them,
(if such ol)jects be in view), and the numerous
tribes of fishes which glide through the watery
element. Let them be directed to consider the
time and exertions which would be requisite to
travel to the most distant parts of the landscape,
to go quite round it, and to cross it in forty or
fifty directions, so as to attain a more intimate
inspection of the multifarious scenes and objects
of which it is composed. Let certain general cal-
culations be made of the number and magnitude
of such objects, of the motion of the inanimate
parts of nature, of the activities of animated
beings, and of the quantity of matter which
appears on every hand. Having impressed upon
their minds, as clearly as possible, such ideas ot
the magnitude and variety of the scene before
them, let them be informed that the landscape
they are contemplating is about 50 miles in cir-
cumference, and that its surface contains 200
square miles; but, that the whole surface of the
earth contains more than 196 millions of square
miles, and, consequently, is nine hundred and

MAGNITUDE OF THE EARTH.

79

d<jkty thousand times larger than all the objects
thi^y behold around them; so thiit tliey must cou-
ceivc 980,000 iaiidsciipes as iare;o as the oue be-
fore them, before they can form an adequate iilea
of the magnitude of the earth. To impress this
idea more deeply, they may likewise be told, that,
were they to remain in the station tliey now oc-
cupy, ten hours every day (the time usually
allotted for daily l;ibor), and were a landscape of
similar extent to that which they behold, to pass
before their view every hour until the whole extent
and scenery of the terraqueous globe were brought
under their observation, it would require more
than tico hundred and sixly-ciyht years before they
could survey, even in this rapid and imperfect
manner, the whole superficial dimensions and
variegated scenery of the globe on which we dwell.
Their attention should likewise be directed to
the solidity of the earth — that it is not a mere
superficies, but contains within its bowels an
immense and indescribable mass pf matter, ex-
tending nearly 7i)00 or 8000 miles in every direc-
tion between the opposite portions of its circum-
ference, amounting to more than 263 thousand
millions of cubical miles. An idea of this enor-
mous mass of materials may be communicated
by such illustrations as the following: — Suppose
Mount Etna, — which ranks among the largest
insulated mountains on the globe, and which
contains around its sides 77 cities, towns, and
villages, and 115,000 inhabitants, — to be 120
miles in circumference around the base, about
10 miles in circumference near the top, and 2
miles in perpendicular altitude, and considering
its figure to be nearly that of the frustum of a
cone, it will contain about 833 cubical miles,

which is only the sTe'Ts FT TT P^^'t of the solidity
of the globe, reckoning it to contain 263,858,149,
120 cubical miles; so that it would require more
than three hundred millions of mountains, such as
Etna, to form a mass equal to that of the terra-
queous globe: and were these mountains placed
side by side in a straight line, they would extend
12,100,097,574, or more than twelve thousand viil-
lions of miles; that is, more than six times the
distance of Herschel, the remotest planet of our
system. And were we to travel without inter-
mission, until we reached the extremity of such a
line of mountains, at the rate of 25 miles every
hour (the utmost speed which our steam-oarriages
have yet attained), it would Teqiiive fifty-Jive thou-
sand, two hundred and jiffy-one years, before the
journey could be accomplished. And, were they
arranged in circles, equal to the perimeter of tlie
sun, they would go 4376 times round the circum-
ference of tliat stupendous globe, and cover a great
portion of its surface. Again, suppose that all the
inhabitants of the earth were to be employed in
removing a mass of materials equal to that of our
globe; suppose all that are capable of laboring to
be 200 millions, and that each person removes ten
cubical yards in a day, it would p^quire more than
1,970,956,164, or, one thousand nine hundred and
seventy millions, nine hundred and fifty-six thou-
sand, one hundred and sixty-four years, before
Buch an operation could be completed; which is
more than 337,550 times the number of years
which have elapsed since the Mosaic creation.

It is of some importance, that, by such illus-
trations, we endeavor to convey to the minds of
'.he young a luminous and impressive idea of the
■naguitude of the globe on which we dwell. For
t is only the standard, or scale of magnitude, by
ivhich we are (Miabled to form a conception of the
>ulk of the sun, and some of the more magnifi-

cent globes of the solar system, and of the im-
mensity of the univer.'e. If we entf'rtain iinper-
fi-t'.t and contracted conceptions of the size of our
globe, we shall be led to entertain similar con-
tracted views of the celestial orbs, and of the
ami)litudes of creation. No adequate conception
of the magnitude of our world can be conveyed
to tbe young, by merely telling them that it is
8000 miles in diameter, and 25,000 in circumfe-
rence, and showing them its figure and the
divisions on its surface by an artificial globe.
For, in 'the first place, few of them have an accu-
rate conception of the extent of one thousand
miles, much less of twenty-five thousand ; and, in
the next place, they are apt to fix their attention
merely on the length of a line or a circle, without
considering the extent of surface contiuufd in a
globe of the above dimensions; and therefore, the
number of square miles comprised in the super-
ficies of the earth, amounting to nearly 200 mil-
lions, should always be specified, as that which
conveys the most correct idea of the amplitude
of our globe — and, in the last place, unless an
ample prospect be presented to their view, and
their attention fixed upon its multifarious objects,
while such instructions are imparting, the illus-
trations of the magnitude of the earth will
neither be clear nor impressive. In a private
apartment, where the view is confined to the
walls of the room, such instructions would lose
a considerable part of their effect.

Having thus impressed on the understandings
of the pupils clear conceptions of the figure
and magnitude of the earth, its leading divisions
and grand natural outlines should next be pre-
sented to view. An eighteen-inch terrestrial
globe should be placed before them, on which
they should be directed to mark the great divi-
sions of land and water — that the regions inhabi-
ted by man, and other terrestrial animals, lie
between two expansive masses of water more
than ten thousand miles in length, and one of
them nearly the same in breadth, which cover
about three-fourths of the surface of the globe —
that the northern and southern portions of this
watery mass are, for the most part, compacted
into a body of solid ice; that the other portions
move backward and forward in different direc-
tions by a kind of libratory motion, every 12^^
hours, producing the flux and reflux of the sea;
that currents, such as the gulf stream, are found
in different parts of the ocean, flowing uniformly
in the same direction — that the land is divided
into three principal portions or masses, the East-
ern and Western continents, and the territory of
New Holland, beside thousands of islands of
every form and size, which diversify the surface
of the ocean — that lofty ranges of mountains,
some of them three or four miles in perpendicular
hight, run in different directions through tliese
continents', some of them hundreds and even
thousands of miles in extent — that hundreds of
rivers, many of them above 2,000 miles in
length, have their rise in these elevated regions,
and carry an immense body of waters into the
ocean — that the ocean has been sounded with
lines nearly a mile in length, when no bottom
was found; that it is prohiible, it is several miles
in depth, and that its bottom is diversified with
mountains and vales like the surface of the dry
land; that it contains a mass of water suflicient
to cover the whole globe to the hight of more
than a mile and a half; and that, were its cavernn
drained, it would require more than 20,000 years
before they could be filled by all the rivers
running into it at their present rate, although they

80

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

pour into its abyss 13,600 cubical miles of water
every year — lli:it the almosplicre surrouiuls tlu-
whole of tliis ti-rraqueous mass; that by nieaus
of this atmospliore and the solar heat, a portion
of tho watei-s of tlio ocean is carried up to the
region of tlie clouds in the form of vapor, and
condensed into rain to supply the sources of the
rivers, and to water and fertilize the eorth^ — and
that, by these and similar arrangements of Infinite
Wisiloirt, the lives and comforts of iityrials of
animated beings throughout the regions of the earth
air, and ocean, are preserved and perpetuated.

Such general views of the grand features of tlic
globe, wlien occasionally enlivened with paniciiktr
details of what is curious and novel to the young,
cannot but arrest tiieir attention, and excite their
curiosity to acquire more minute information on
the subject; while at the same time, they have a
tendency to inspire them with sublime and reve-
rential ideas of that almighty being wiio, "laid
the foundations of the earth, who causeth tiie
vapors to ascend, wiio measuroth the ocean in the
hollow of his hand, who weigheth the mountains
in scales, and taketh up the isles as a very little
thing." After describing sucli general views, the
attention may be directed to various other objects
connected with the physical constitution of the
globe, such as rocks and insulated mountains,
promontories, isthmuses, caverns, icebergs, for-
ests, mines, and deserts — volcanic mountains, and
islands that have been raised from the bottom of
the ocean by the force of subterraneous agents —
lakes, mediterranean seas, fountains, springs,
whirlpools, gulfs, and water-spouts — the peca-
liarities of the ditTerent zones — the climates, and
the distribution of plants and animals in the dif-
ferent regions of the earth — the atmospherical
phenomena in difTerent countries, thunder, light-
uing, aurora-borealis, the monsoons, trade-winds,
sea and land breezes, hurricanes, and tornadoes —
the distribution of temperature in different parts
of tlie earth — the variety of seasons in the differ-
ent zones, and the reasons why all the four sea-
sons prevail at the same moment in different
countries — the changes which have been pro-
duced on the surface of the globe by earthquakes,
volcanoes, the action of water, the influence of
the atmosphere, and the agency of man — the
varieties of the human race, the population of
the globe, and the number of individuals that are
daily ushered into existence, and of those who
daily retire from the living world. To tliese
views of natural scenery may next be added
explanations of maps, and of the different circles
on the artificial globe, of the nature of longi-
tude and latitude, the division of the circle into
degrees and minutes, the variety of days and
nights, the reasons why the zones are bouvdcd at
particular degrees of latitude by the tropics and
polar circles, and the mode by which the cir-
cumference of the earth and its other dimensions
have been determined. Tlie explanations of astro-
nomical geography, such as the causes of the
different seasons, the annual and diurnal motions
of the earth, and the method of finding the lati-
tudes and longitudes of places, may be postponed
until the pupil proceeds to the study of astronomy.
In describing such objects as the above, and
other departments of geography, illustrative maps
and delineations such as the following, are requi-
site:— 1. A stereographic projection of the globe
on the plane of the meridian, which divides it into
the eastern and western hemispheres; and an-
other projection on the plane of tlie equator,
having the poles in the center, dividing the
earth into the northern and southern hemi-

spheres. Without this last projection, which
is seldom exhibited in books of geography, tho
relative positions of countries in Asia, North
America, and other regions, cannot be distinctly
traced. On both tl-.ese maps, the ranges of moun-
tains which diversify the globe, and all the rivers
which flow f)oui them, should be particularly de-
lineated, without any other objects or distinctions,
excei)t the names of the countries, seas, oceans,
rivers, and mountain-chains, in order to present
to the young mind, at one view, this grand and
distinguishing iVature of our globe. For want
of such maps on a lai-ge scale, accurately delinea-
ted, with the mountains and rivers, represented in
their proportional magnitudes, no accurate nor
comprehensive ideas are generally entertained of
this noble and interesting feature of the terrestrial
surface. Tliree or four extensive chains of moun-
tains may be distinguished, from which flow
numerous ramificatioifs, and which, with some in-
terruptions from the sea, extend nearly round the
globe. One of these chains runs through Lap-
land, Finland, and Northern Russia, including the
Ural mountains, sending forth branches in differ-
ent directions. Another runs along the southern
parts of Europe, including the Alps and Pyrenees,
Hungary, Persia, Thibet, including the Himalaya,
and, stretching in different directions, pass through
China, Japan, and the Kurile islands toward Kamt-
schatka, from which another chain diverges, and
establislies a connection with the grand chain of
the American continent. Another ridge runs
along tlie southern hemisphere, through Africa,
Paraguay, the islands of the Pacific, and New
Holland; and another extensive chain runs from
north to south, along the whole length of Amer-
ica, including the Andes, the Rocky and the Blue
mountains. The pupils should be directed to
trace these ranges, with all their different branch-
es, not only along the continents, but across the
oceans, where the tops of the higher ridges appear
in the form of islands, their average elevations
remaining below the level of the sea. — 2. Another
delineation should consist of an elementary map,
showing the various objects connected with geog-
raphy: such as continents, islands, peninsulas, isth-
muses, promontories, mountains and plains, woods
and forests, — rivers, lakes, seas, gulfs, friths, straits,
and channels — and the manner in which cities,
towns, forls, roads, shoals, sand-banks, soundings,
sunken rocks, and the direction of the winds, are
represented in maps. — .3. Delineations showing
the proportional length and breadth of the princi-
pal rivers on the globe. This might, perhaps, be
more distinctly exhibited by a number of rods
of different lengths, gradually tapering to a point
as the respective rivers diminish in breadth, from
their mouths to their sources. Other dtlineations
might represent their lengths, not in straight lines,
but with all their curves and windings. — 4. A
chart or delineation of the comparative size of
countries, lakes, and islands; so that the propor-
tional spaces on the globe, occujiicd by such coun
tries as Russia, China, Great Britain, the United
States, &c., may be perceived at a glance. These
spaces may be represented either by squares, paral
lelograms, or circles. — 5. An Isothermal chart
showing the climates, and vegetable productions of
the earth; in which the mean temperature of itf
different regions, the plants which flourish in them
the length of the longest days and nights, the di
visions of the zones, and other pnrliculars, maj
be distinctly noted. — G. A chart of geographicU
zooloqy, showing the various tribes and species of
animals with which tlie earth is peopled, and th»
several regions where the different species abound.

GEOGRAPHICAL DELINEATIONS.

81'

The- names of tlie animals might be engraved in-
stead of the names of towns, and if the cliarl was
on a large scale, the figures of the most remarka-
ble animals might likewise be engraved. — 7. A
map of Africa and America, and the Atlantic ocean
.ying between them, on the same sheef, for the pur-
pose of exhibiting, at one view, the whole Atlantic,
with its islands, and the relative positions of the
coasts of Africa and South America. Also, an-
other map, on the same scale, representing the
eastern parts of Asia and New Holland on the one
hand, and on the other, the western coast of Amer-
ica, with the Pacific ocean, and its numerous
groups of islands which intervene, for the pur-
pose of showing the nearest approach which the
old and new continents make to each other, and
the relative positions of the islands and countries
connected with the Pacific. — 8. A n)ap or chart
of Moral geography, exhibiting the prevailing re-
ligion of the several countries, and the moral state
of their inhabitants, which might be distinguished,
either by different colors or by different shades
in the engraving. In this map the countries en-
lightened by Christianity, and those which are
still shrouded in Pagan darkness, might be exhibit-
ed at one view; for the purpose of showing to the
young what an immense portion of the world is
Btill immersed in heathen ignorance and idolatry,
and what exertions are still requisite for enlighten-
ing the benighted nations; and for the purpose of
stimulating them to bear a part in those philan-
thropic movements which are now going forward
for the enlightening and renovation of the world.
— 9. Views of cities, public buildings, mountains,
caves, grottos, volcanoes, interesting landscapes,
and whatever scenes or objects are most striking
on the surface of the globe. Some of these views
might be exhibited bj' the optical diagonal machine
formerly described. — 10. Sets of colored maps of
the quarters of the globe, and its different coun-
tries, delineated in the usual way. — 11. A projec-
tion of the globe on the horizon of the particular
country where the pupils reside, for the purpose
of siiowing the bearings and distances of places
from the country in which they are placed. — 12.
Plate globes, on which the pupil may trace with a
pencil the circles of the sphere, tiie ranges of
mountains, the course of rivers, the outlines of
continents and islands, and whatever else may
tend to familiarize his mind to the general arrange-
rnonts of the earth. On such globes mistakes may
be remedied and inaccuracies corrected by the ap-
plication of the sponge; and, after the pupil has
beon for some time accustomed to such delinea-
tions, he will soon acquire a clear and comprehen-
sive view of the outlines of the globe, and become
familiar with the relative positions of its conti-
nents, seas, and i-slands. — KJ. Delineations of the
comparative hijhts of the principal mountains on
the globe — the mountains in the ''astern and west-
ern hemispheres being arranged in two separate
groups. On the same sheet might likewise be de-
lineated, comparative A'iews of the bights of dif-
ferent ranges, arranging them info six or seven
classes, beginning with views of such mountains
as those of Scotland, Wales and Ireland, Vv'liich do
not much exceed 40D() feet, and gradually proceed-
ing to such as the Cordilleras and tb.e Himalaya,
whose summits reach an elevation of above 20,000
feet. — 14. Models of particular countries might
occasionally be made of wax or other materials,
particularly of mountainous regions, for the pur-
pose of exhibiting an idea of t!ie scenery of a
country, the windings of its rivers, and the com-
parative bight of its mountains above the general
level of its surface. No map can convey au idea

of such particulars, or of the general appearance
and prominent features of any country, similar to
that of a well-executed model. 1 have seen in the
Museum of the University of Edinburgh, several
models of the kind to whicli I allude, of the valea
and mountainous regions ot Switzerland, in which
the position of the towns, the course of the rivers,
the lakes, the lines of roads, the vales, the rocks,
the forests, and the comparative elevation of the
mountains, are ex'hibited, as if one were looking
down upon the country from the clouds. The
only objections to such models would be the diffi-
culty of getting them executed, and the conse-
quent expense which would be incurred. But,
if one model were accurately executed, others
could easily be taken from it, on the same princi-
ple as phrenologists take casts of the human
skull.

By the assistance of such maps and delineations,
and with the aid of a judicious text-book, compri-
sing a comprehensive view of the outlines of
pliysical, mathematical, civil, statistical, and his-
torical geography, an enlightened teacher will be
enabled gradually to lead his pupils forward to
luminous views of this interesting subject. In de-
scribing the different countries, he should give a
comprehensive outline of whatever is peculiar to
each country, and select for particular description,
whatever interesting objects of nature or art may
have a tendency to excite the attention and gratify
the curiosity of his pupils, referring them to their
larger sj'stems of geography for more minute de-
tails. In sncli descriptions, the details of moral,
statistical, and religious geography should occupy
^ more prominent place tlian they generally do in
our systems of geography and scholastic courses
on this subject. The statistics of our own coun-
try, of the various states of Europe, and particu-
larly of the United States of America, which are
very imperfectly known, and respecting which
there exist numerous misconceptions and unrea-
sonable prejudices on this side of the Atlantic,
should be particularly detailed. The moral and
mental degradation of the heathen world; the mis-
sionary stations which have been fixed in diff*erent
parts of it for counteracting the influence of bar-
barism and idolatry, and diffusing the light of di-
vine knowledge; the various success which has
accompanied such undertakings; and the philan-
thropic enterprises which are now going forward
in different countries for the moral renovation of
mankind, should be depicted to the view of the
young with all the vividness and energy which the
importance of such subjects demands, in order to
allure them to the consideration of such objects,
and to secure their endeavors in promoting them.
It is a striking and melancholy feature in the re-
cords of our race, that almost the whole of history
and historical geography is occupied with details
of the miseries of mankind, produced by ambition,
avarice and injustice, the tyranny of despots, and
the desolations of war; and that scarcely a bright
spot can be perceived on the surface of the globe,
and ami 1st the gloomy records of past generations,
on which the eye of benevolence can rest with
unmingled delight. Hence it has happened, that
we have scarcely a history of the operations of
pure philanthropy, except in the instance of our
Saviour and his apostles. And now, when philan-
thropic plans have been formed, and benevolent
enterjirises are carrying on, our geographers and
men of science, so long accustomed to blaze abroad
tl\e exploits of ambition and malignity, will scarce-
ly condescend to notice or record the operations
by which the moral world is beginning to be en-
lightened and regenerated. This is not what it

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

ought to be, or wliat we oiiglit to expect from
those wild are engaged in the ditTiision of know-
ledge. All knowledge slionld be directed so as to
have a moral bearing, and to stimulate the men-
tal activities of the young to tiiose benevolent ex-
ertions by which the best interests of their fellow-
men, in every land, may be promoted.

Geographical compendiums for the use of
8chools should be clear and comprehensive in their
details, and enlivened with occasional picturesque
descriptions of human scenery and of natural
'and artiiicial objects, which may be illustrated
with neat engravings. 'J'hey should also abound
with questions and exercises of every description
connected with the subject, to afford scope for the
industry of the pupil, and for the exercise of liis
judgment and reasoning powers. But however
excellent the plan and details of any school-book
may be, it ought by no means to be considered
as superseding the more familiar illustrations of
the teacher, and the conversational lectures al-
luded to above. No man can be a successful
teacher of tliis science, but he who has a f;imiliar
aud comprehensive knowledge of all the subjects
connected with it, and who can, at any time,
illustrate its principles and facts by viva voce de-
scriptions and elucidations^ which always make a
deeper impression on the young mind tlian can be
produced by the mere perusal of the best treatises.
In working the usual problems on the terrestrial
globe (some of which are of little practical im-
portance), due care should be taken, that the
pupils be not guided merely^ by the rules given
for the respective problems, but that they under-
stand the reasons why they turn the globe in this
or that direction — elevate the pole to a certain
degree above the horizon — or set the horary cir-
cle to a given hour. In problems wliich have a
reference to the difference of time at different
places, they may be taught to perform the opera-
tions by a mental calculation, and to ascertain,
in the course of a few seconds, what nations have
noon, midnight, morning or evening, at a given
hour, or summer or winter, spring or autumn, on
a given day or month. In conmiencing the study
of geography, a plan or map of the town or vil-
lage in which the pupils are taught, along with
the adjacent country, and some of its prominent
objects, might be laid before them, as introductory
to the study and explanation of maps. On this
map, they might be directed to attend to the card-
inal points of the compass, the boundaries of the
town, the streamlets or rivers, ponds or hills, and
ihe bearings of the diiferent streets, lanes, public
buildings, and other objects, from each other; and
various questions and exercises in reference to
such objects, might be proposed, which would
excite a spirit of observation, and prepare tiiem
for understanding maps of countries on a larger
scale. A map of the county, and then a map
of the state or kingdom, might next form the
subject of attention, which would prepare them
for the study of the particular quarter of the
globe in which they reside, and of all the other
countries, seas, and oceans, dispersed over the
surface of the earth. This plan is evidently in
conformity to the order of nature, although di-
rectly opposite to th. order generally pursued.*

• Pince writing ttie preceding parts of this work, I have
been favored, throngh the liberality of a respected literary
correspondent in the State ol Connec'.icut, North America,
with a variety of school-hooks on geography and other sr.h-
jects, which have an extensive einnlation in the New En-
glnnd Sintps. Anionj these are the following: — 1. Wood-
bridge's "f^ystem of Lniversal Geography, on the principles
of comparison and classification, 5th edition, 183^." This

SECTION VII.

Geology.

Geology is a science which, of late years, hai
excited the attention of philosophers, naturalistSt
and theologians ; and, in consequence of the re-
searches of its votaries, many striking and im-
portant facts in relation to the structure of the
earth and the changes it has undergone, have
been brought to light. Many of the facts which
this science discloses have a tendency to convey

work, comprised in a thick ISnio. volume of 500 very closely
printed pages, comprehends an immense mass of informa-
tion on physical, civil, and statistical geography, including
descriptions of a great variety of facts in relation to the
geological structrre of the earth. It is illustrated by nearly
a hundred engravings of natural and artificial ohjects; such
as sections of rivers, canals, comparative elevation of
monntains, cataracts, races of men, geological sections,
cities and puhlic buildings, which both enliven and elucidate
the descriptions. Appended to this work, is a lucid and
judicious compend of " Ancient Geography, as connected
with Chronology," including sketches of sacred history, my-
thology, and the early history of mankind, by Mrs. Willard
— a lady who appears to have made considerable researches
into the different departments of geographical science, and
to have promoted the cause of general education. Doth
these works are admirably calculated for the higher classes
in schools, and abound with a great number ofipiestions and
exercises, for stimulating the attention and ingenuity of the
young. Had this volume been sparsely printed, according
to the fashion that prevailed 20 or 30 years ago, like "I'lay-
fair's Geography," and other works, it would iiave occupied
two or three cpiarto vohmies of 1500 pages.— 2. VVoodbridge's
"Rudiments of Geography, on a new plan,"18mo., contain-
ing 208 closely printed pages, and about ITO cuts, and com-
prising a very considerable ]iortion of information on the
different departments of geography. It ma}' be considered
as partly an abridgment of the larger work noticed above,
and partly an introduction to it. The cuts, though small,
are sutliciently vivid and distinct to convey an accurate idea
of the ohjects they are intended to represent. It has passed
through seventeen editions, comprising more than 200,000
copies. Mr. Woodbiidge is a corresponding member of the
Geographical Society of Paris, and Editor of the American
'•Annals of Education;" and a gentleman who appears to
be quite familiar with al'. the departments of geographical,
physical, and mathematical science. His geographical
works are rich in information in respect to every topic con-
nected with his general subject, and have received the ap-
probation of the Geographical Society of Paris, and of
many scientific characters on the continent of Europe, par-
ticularly Humboldt and Fellenbcrg.— 3."A Practical Svstem
of J>!odern Geography," by J. OIney, A. M. — an ]8mo. of
288 pages, closely printed on a plan somewhat similar to
VVoodbridge's Rudiments, illustrated with nearly a hundred
engravings, and containing a very considerable portion of
useful information. This work has passed through fifteen
editions. — 4. "The Malte-Brun School Geography," I)y Mr.
Goodrich, a large 18mo. volume of nearly HiO pages, and
containing about 133 engravings. This work contains a
larger quantity of letter-press than the two former, and
a great variety of facts in relation to civil and <lescriptive
geography, but is not so fall as Woodbridge's volumes in its
details of physical and statistical geography, fifteen thou-
sand copies of this work were solil in the space of 18
months iiom the date of its first publication. The Atlases
belonging to these works are beautifully executed, and con-
tain several of the projections I have suggested above, be-
side sets of maps as usually delineated, along with a
variety of nseful descriptions and statistical t:iblos. In the
Atlas which accompanies Olney's " Practical tfystem," the
population of the respective towns and cities can be ascer-
tained at a glance, by means of certain characters and fig-
ures connected with their names. 5. Hall's " Child's Book of
Geogra))hy," and Peter Parley's "Geography for Children,"
each of them containing about a hundred pages, in a square
ISmo. size, and embellished with a variety of maps and
cuts, appear well calculated to interest the minds of youth,
and to convey a general idea of Ihe leading features of the
world. Some of the above works, with a few alterations,
might he published with advantage in Great Britain. They
contain more particular maps and descriptions of the United
States than are to be found in geographical works publish-
ed on this side of the Atlantic. A comprehensive and
usefiil compend of geography for the nse of schools, might
be compiled from the volumes now mentioned, by selecting
the descriptions, exercises, and more interesting jiorliontof
each, and combining them into a volume calculated for liie
meridian of our own country. ,

GEOLOGY.

8a

to the mind impressions of the wisdom, and par-
ticularly of the poicer of the Cresitor, ia those
stupendous forces which produced the convul-
sions and changes which have taken place both
on the surface and in the interior strata of the
globe. Tliey are likewise applicable to various
practical purposes. A minute and circumstantial
knowledge of the various facts which have been
ascertained by geologists in different counlries,
may be of extensive use to those employed in
mining operations, when searching for coal, fos-
sil salt, or metallic veins, and might prevent
many ruinous speculations to which ignorant
projectors are frequently subjected. In excava-
tions for the purpose of forming canals, tunnels,
and rail-roads — operations which are now going
forward in almost every part of the civilized

Tig. I.

vrorld — a knowledge of this subject could not
fail to be highly beneficial to all parties engaged
in such projects. Beside, the study of tliis sci-
ence is intimately connected with Scripture his-
tory and theology, and its facts, when viewed in
a proper liglit, have a tendency to elucidate cer-
tain portions of the Sacred writings, and to illus-
trate the harmony and the connection which

Fi!

subsist between the visible operations of the
Creator and the revelations of his word. For
these reasons, it might be expedient to communi-
cate to the young a general idea of some of tho
leading facts connected with geology, without
perplexing them with any of the speculations of
philosophers, or the theories which have been
formed to account for geological phenomena ;
leaving them to deduce their own conclusions at
a future period, when their knowledge of such
subjects shall be increased, and their judgment
matured.

A brief description might be given, in the first
place, of tho solid parts of the earth, of the va-
rious strata of wliich they are composed, and of the
classifications which geologists have made of the
different kinds of rocks. These rocks are usually-
arranged under the foUov/ing classes: — 1. Primary
rocks, which compose the grand framework of
the globe, which form the most lofty mountains,
and extend to the greatest depths yet penetrated
by man, and below all the other formations. The
substances of which such rocks are composed,
are granite, gneiss, mica-slate, hornblende, granu-
lar quartz, &c., but never contain salt, coal, petri-
factions, or any remains wliatever of organized
substances; and therefore are supposed to have
been formed before the creation of animals or
vegetables. — 2. Transition rocks, which include
those rocks that lie over the primitive, and are
composed of the larger fragments of the primi-
tive rocks. They contain graywacke, transition
limestone, slate, sandstone, &c. Shells are some-
times found in them, but no remains of land ani-
mals or vegetables. It is supposed they were
formed next after the primitive rocks, and after
the creation of some kinds of organized beings. —
, 2.

Chippewa n Mts

f^MCBLCA. Alleghany Mts.

3. Secondary rocks, which lie upon the transition ' ered as newer than the secondary, and contain
rocks, and appear like deposits, composed of abundance of fossil shells and plants, along with the

?-ains which once belonged to primitive rocks. \ bones of quadrupeds and fishes. — ."j. Volcanic and
he principal secondary formations are coal, chalk, basaltic rocks, which owe their origin to volcanic
secondanj limestone, oolite, milktone, (/rit, &c., fire, and are sometimes forced up to the surface
which contain petrifactions of animal and vegeta- of the earth in a melted state, by tho action of
ble suijstances. — 4. Tertiary strata, v/U'ich con- subterraneous heat. The principal volcanic rocks
gist of bo.'ls of clay, sand, marl, and the newer are basalt, laoa, and greenstone. — G. Alluvial
limestone deposits. These formations are consid- strata, which include deposits that are made of

84

ON THE xMORAL IMPROVEMENT 01'' MANKIND

broKen strata, consisting of f.and, mud, clay,
pebbles, &.C., which are lormed by the currents
of rivers, and oilier causes now iu operation.

Tiiese. classifications of rocks anil formations
might be illustrated by sucii lifrures as in the an-
nexed cut, which is taken from Woodbridge's
"System of Uuiversal Geography," where Fig.
1 represents the strata of the earth, P tlie primary
strata, T transition, S secondary, A alluvial, B
basaltic, V vein, b bed. Fig. 2, represents a sec-
tion of the earth between latitudes 40° and 45°
north. In conjunction with such pictorial repre-
sentations, a cabinet of materials should be pro-
cured, containing at least the following: quartz,
mica, talc, feldspar, limcMone, arc/ilUte, or slate,
hornblende, yypsuin and chUmtc, which form what
has been termed the alphabet of geology. Beside
these, specimens should be procured of basalt,
gneiss, greenstone, lava, porphyry, graywacke,
and other substances mentioned above. About
thirty specimens iu all are sufficient' for illustra-
ting the classes of geology. Without an exhibi-
tion of these in connection with geological de-
scriptions, no definite ideas can be conveyed to
the mind of the student on this subject.*

SECTION VIII.

Astronomy.

AsTKONO-MY is a science which has for its object
to explain the motions of the heavenly bodies,
their various aspects, and the facts which have
been ascertained in the planetary system, and
throughout the region of the fixed stars. This
is a subject of considerable interest and utility.
It is intimately connected with geography, naviga-
tion, agriculture, commerce, chronology, and
other arts and sciences, and has lent its aid to
promote their improvement. The study of it is
likewise attended with many pleasures and ad-
vantages in a moral, intellectual, and religious
point of view. It expands the range of the hu-
man intellect, and unfolds to our view the most
striking displays of the perfections of the Deity,
particularly the grandeur of liis Omnipotence. It
sets before us objects of overpowering magnitude
and sublimity, and demonstrates the unlimited
extent and magnificence of the universal empire
of the Almighty. It has a tenilency to raise the
soul above groveling pursuits and affections, to
inspire hope, reverence and humility, and to ex-
cite to the contemplation of objects far surpassing
everything w* behold in this terrestrial scene, and
worthy of the dignity of immortal minds. In
short, it prepares the mind for the employments
of the future world, and demonstrates that the
Creator has it in his power to distribute eniilessly
diversified streams of felicity, among everj' order

• Books on geolosT have, of late years, increased both in
Dnmber and in the interesting nature of the discussions
they contain. The names of BakeweU, MaccuUoch, Uela-
beche, BucUland, Ure, Lyell, &c. are well known as culti-
vators of this dep.-irtment of natural science. The new
edition of Mr. I.yell's "I'rineiples of Geology," in 4 vols.
ISmo., lately published, is perhaps one of the most lumin-
ons and attractive works which has hitherto been published
on this subject — though perhaps somewhat deficient in what
relates to the primary and secondary rocks, and embodying
certain statements which some will be apt to consider as
scarcely consistent with the records of sacred history. Dr.
Comstoik, of Hartford, State of Conneiticut, has lately
published, in a duodecimo vol. of about 340 pages, an inter-
esting work, entitled, "Outlines of Geology," which con-'
tains a popular and comprehensive view of this subject, and
iJ peenUuiIy adapted to the instruction of general readers.

of his intelligent offspring, throughout all the
rfvoliilioiis of eternity. It is a subject, therefore,
on which a certain portion of informal ion should
be communicated to the young, and to every hu-
man being.

In communicating to the young instructions
on tliis subject — instead of commencing with
definitions of astronomical terms, and a vague
description of the solar system, as is frequently
done, — the pupils should be gradually prepared
for acquiring a general knowledge of the princi-
ples of the science, bij being iauc/ht to observe, with
their own eyes, the motions and general phenomena
of the heaoens. The first object to which their
attention might be directed, is the apparent mo-
tion of the sun. On some clear evening in the
month of June (in our northern latitude), they
may be placed in a situation where thej' may be-
hold the setting sun, and be desired to take par-
ticular notice of such objects as mark the place
of his going down. Next morning, or the first
clear morning afterward, they may be placed in
the same situation, and, having first requested
them to point to the place where the sun disap-
peared the evening before, their attention should
next be directed to the point of his ri.^ing, and to
mark the terrestrial objects in the direction of
which he appeared to rise. The difference be-
tween the points of his setting and of liis rising
should be particularly impressed upon their minds.
On this day, too, about twelve o'clock, they
should be directed to attend to the sun's meridian
altitude. These observations may either be ac-
companied with certain appropriate remarks, or
the pupils may be left, in the meantime, to rumi-
nate upon them, to consider them simply as facts,
which may be afterward adverted to, and to form
their own conclusions. Similar observations may
be made from the same spot about the 23d Sep-
tember, and particularly about the middle of De-
cember, when the direction of the rising and
setting sun, his meridian altitude, and the appa-
rent diurnal arc he describes, will appear very
different, when compared with the observations
made in the month of June. Their attention
might next be directed to the phases and motions
of the moon. About three days after new moon,
when the lunar crescent first makes its appearance,
they may be directed to mark the form of the
crescent, the most conspicuous s/ars in its vicinity,
and its apparent distance from the place where the
sun went down. Every clear evening afterward,
the gradual increase of the crescent, its motion
among the stars, and the apparent distance it has
moved during every successive period, should be
particularly marked, until it arrive at the eastern
part of the horizon after the sun has .set in the
west, when it will appear a full enlightened hemi-
sphere. During the months of August, Septem-
ber, ana October, when the effect of tlie harvest-
moon is apparent, they may be directed to trace the
gradual diminution of the full moon, through its
different stages of decrease, until it assumes the
form of a half moon or a large crc.«cent. During
the months of March or April, their attention
may be directed to the difference in the time of
its rising on eacli successive day after full moon,
from what takes place during the months of har-
vest,— in the one case, namely, in harvest, there
being only 20 minutes of diffJ-rence after full
moon, in its rising on each successive day; vi'hile in
spring, the difference is nearly an hour and a half,
which prevents her, at that season, from being
seen iu the form of a half moon, during her de-
crease, until early in the morning; — whereas, in
harvest, she may be seen rising in the north-easi.

DIURNAL MOTION OF THE HEAVENS.

80

m the form of a half moon, about 8 or 9 in tlie
evening,

They may next be dirscted lo dtlvisnci to some
of the principal stars, and tlie more conspicuous
constcUaiioits, and particulurly to tlie apparent di-
urnal iiwtion of tiie wliole celestial vault. The
month of Januarj' is perhaps the most eligible sea-
son for such observations;. About the middle of
that mouth, at eight o'clock in the evening, the
most striking and brilliant constellations visible in
the northern hemisphere are then above the hori-
lon. The Pleiades or Seven stars, and otlier por-
tions of the constellation Taurus, are nearly on
the meridian, at an elevation of above GO degrees.
The splendid constellation Orion, to the south of
Taurus, is a little to the east of the meridian; Canis
Minor to the east, and Canis Major to the south-
east of Orion. Nearly due east and near the ho-
rizon, is the zodiacal constellation Leo. To the
west of tlie meridian are the constellations Aries,
Pisces, Cetus, Androineda, Pegasus, and Cassiopeia,
which is not far from tlie zenith. To the north-
east is Ursa Major, or the Great Bear, sometimes
distinguished by the name of the Plow, — or
Charles's Wain. The star Aldcbaran, or the
Bull's eye, is nearly on the meridian, at an eleva-
tion of 540 supposing the place of observation to
be in 52^^ north latitude. It is distinguished by
its ruddy appearance. The brilliant star Capella
is nearly .'^2^ north by east from Aldebaran, not
far from the zenith; and Rigel, in the left foot of
Orion, is about 27^ south by east of Aldebaran,
and a little east of the meridian. Betelgeux is
north-east from Rigel, and forms a right-angled
triangle with it and Aldebaran. The stars Castor
and Pollux are east by north from Aldebaran, at
a considerable distance from it (45^), and near-
ly half-way between the zenith and the eastern
horizon. Nearly straight south from Pollux, and
east from Betelgeux, is Procyon. These three
stars form a right-angled triangle, tlie star Pro-
c;fon being at the right angle. Near the south-
eastern part of the horizon, and a little elevated
above it, is Sirius, or the Dog-star, which is gene-
rally reckoned the most brilliant fixed star in the
heavens. West from Rigel, at a considerable dis-
tance (46°), and at nearly the same elevation
above the horizon, is Mira, or the Wonderful star,
which changes from a star of the second magni-
tude, so as to become invisible once in a period of
334 daj's. The brilliant star Lyra is north north-
west, verj' near the horizon. The two stars in
tlie Great Bear, called the Pointers, are in a direc-
tion nearly north-east from Castor and Pollux,
but at a considerable distance; they direct the e5-e
to a star of the second magnitude, in Ursa Minor,
at a consid-rable distance toward the west, called
Abruccabak or the Polestar.

Having pointed out these leading stars and con-
stellations, to serve as so many known points in
the heavens, the attention migiit be directed, on a
subsequent evening, about six o'clock, to the ap-
parent motions of these bodies, and of the whole
celestial sphere. On the evening of January the
16th, at six o'clock, the star Procyon will be s^en
nearly due east, a very little above the horizon;
Aldebaran, in an easterly direction, nearly half-way
between the meridian and the eastern horizon: Ri-
gel, toward the south-east, a little above the hori-
zon; and Lyra, in the north-west, about 15° above
the horizon. Having marked the terrestrial ob-
jects which appear in the direction of tiiese stars,
tliey may be viewed, from the same station, about
two hours afterward, when Procj'ou will be found
to have risen a considerable way above the hori-
zon; Rigel, to have moved nearly 30 degrees to

the westward; and Aldebaran, to have arrived near
t!;e ineridian; while Lyra has descended .vithin
two or three degrees of the horizon; and Sirius,
which was before under the horizon, is elevateu
about ten degrees above it. About ten o'clock,
the same evening, Rigel and Aldebaran will he
seen at a considerable distance westward of the
meridian; Sirius, within 6 or 7 degrees of it; the
star Lyra, near the northern horizon; and the eon-
stellation Orion, which in the first observation
appeared in the direction south-east by east, will
be found to have moved to the westward of the
meridian. By such obsei'vations, it may be shown
that the whole starry firmament has an apparent
diurnal motion from east to west. While point-
ing out these apparent motions to the young,
it will be proper to direct their attention to the
Polestar, which, to a common observer, never
appears to shift its position. They may like-
wise be directed to notice that the stars near
the pole appear to move slower, and to de-
scribe smaller circles than those at a greater dis-
tance from it — that those which rise near the
south describe smaller arcs than those which rise
farther to the north — that the stars which rise due
east, set due west, after an inte; 'al of twelve hours
— that the stars which rise in the north-east, after
describing a large arc of the heavens, set in the
north-west, after an interval of abovit seventeen
hours — that all the stars virithiu a certain distance
of the pole never appear to rise or set, but describe
complete circles above the horizon — that the stars
near the pole, such as those in the Great Bear, ap-
pear in one part of their course to move from west
to east, and in another part of it from east to west
— and that the revolutions of the whole, however
different the circles they apparently describe, are
completed in exactly the same period of time.
These positions may afterward be more particu-
larly illustrated by means of a large celestial globe,
by which it will be seen that all these appearances
are the result of one general apparent motion,
which, at first view, will appear to exist in the
celestial sphere. An idea of the general motion
of the stars may be acquired by a simpler process
than what we have now described. Let any ob-
server bring a star, in any position between the
zenith and southern horizon, into an apparent
contact with a tree, spire, or chimney-top, and, in
the course of fifteen or twenty minutes, he will
perceive that that star and others adjacent to it
have moved a little space from east to west. But
the obsen^ations alluded to above are calculated to
give a more satisfactory idea of this motion, and
to make a deeper impression on the minds of the
young.

The next series of observations might be those
which demonstrate the apparent annual motion of
the sun. For the purpose of exhibiting tliis mo-
tion, the Pleiades or se\:en stars, along with Alde-
baran, might be selected as fixed points in the hea-
vens to indicate the progressive motion of the so-
lar orb toward the east. About the middle of
January, at eight o'clock in the evening, the Plei-
adcs will be seen on the meridian; which obser-
vation should be noted down, for the purpose of
being compared with a future observation. On
the 1st of March, at the same hour, these stars will
be seen nearly half-way between the meridian and
the western horizon, while all the other stars, at
the same declination, will be found lo have
made a similar progress. About the 1.5th of April
they will be seen, at the same hour, very near the
western horizon; and every day after this, they
will appear to make a nearer approach to that part
of the heavens in whicn the sun apjiears until,

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

being overpowered by the splendor of his rays,
tliey coase lo be visible. i'Voiii tliese and similar
observations, it will be easy to make the young
perceive, that the sun has an apparent motion
from west, to east, through the circle of the hea-
vens, and that the revolution is completed in the
course of u year.

They may next be taught to acquire a definite
idea of the measures by whicli the apparent dis-
tances of objects in the heavens are expressed.
To talk to the young, as some are in the practice
of doing, of two stars being a foot, a yard, or two
yards asunder, is altogt^tlier vague and indefinite,
unless we are told, at the same time, at what dis-
tance the yard or foot is supposed to be placed
from our eye. As astronomers divide the circum-
ference of the celestial sphere into 360 parts or
degrees, they may be told, that from any point of
tlie horizon to the zenith are DO degrees, and, con-
sequently, that from the eastern to the western,
or from the northern to the southern points of the
horizon, are 1^0 degrees. And, iu order that they
may have a definite idea, or something approxi-
mating to it, of the extent of a degree, they may
be told that the breadth of the moon is about half
a degree — that the space occupied by the three
stars iu a straight line in the belt of Orion — some-
times distinguished by the name of the Three Kings,
or the Ell and Yard — is exactly 3 degrees in length,
and, consequently, the distance between any two
of them is a degree and a half- — that tlie distance
between Castor and Pollux is nearly five degrees
— between Dubhe and Merah, the two Pointers,
in the Great Bear, is 5}^ degrees — and that the
space between Dubbc, or the northernmost pointer
and the Polestar. is about 29 degrees. By famil-
iarizing the mind with such measures, the young
will soon acquire a tolerable idea of the distance
of any two objects iu the heavens, when the num-
ber of degrees is mentioned.

All the observations above stated may be made,
in the way of an amusement, previous to the time
when the pupils are expected to enter on the reg-
ular study of astronomy. They may be complet-
ed in the course of ten or twelve observations,
made at different times, within the space of seven
or eight months They are intended for the pur-
pose of stimulating the young to habits of obser-
vation and attention to the appearances of nature
around them; so that, in every clear sky, they
may learn to make similar observations by them-
selves, for confirming and amplifying their former
views of the motions and aspects of the heavens.
Such observations form the groundwork of astron-
omy, and of all the instructions they may after-
ward receive in relation to this science, although
they are generally neglected. When problems
on the celestial globe are prescribed, and vague
descriptions of the planetary system given, pre-
vious to having made these observations, the sub-
ject is seldom understood, and no clear nor expan-
sive conceptions formed by the young, of the mo-
tions, phenomena, and relations of tiie great bo-
dies of the universe. — It may not be necessary, in
the first instance, while making these observations,
to attempt any explanation of the phenomena, but
merely to impress upon the mind a clear concep-
tion of the apparent motions and relative aspects,
of the celestial orbs, as they present themselves to
an attentive spectator; leaving the pupil to rumi-
nate upon them until it shall be judged proper to
direct his attention to the investigation of the true
causes of celestial phenomena.

The pupil's attention might be next directed to
the motions of the planets, and the general phe-
nomena of the solar system. When any of the

planets are visible in the heavens, their positions
in relation to the neighboring stars should be par-
ticularly noted, so that tlieir apparent motions,
whether direct or retrograde, may be clearly per-
ceived, which, in inost cases, will be quite per-
ceptible in the course of a few weeks or months.
The direct, stationary, and retrograde movements
of Mars and Venus should be particularly attend-
ed to, for the purpose of afterward demonstrating
that the annual motion of the earth accounts for
the apparently irregular and complicated motions
of the planetary orbs. Large diagrams, repre-
senting t])e apparent jnotions of Mars, Mercury,
and Venus, as seen from the earth during the
course of several revolutions, witii all the appa-
rently irregular loops and curves tliey appear to
describe*-^should be laid before the pupil for his
particular inspection, in order that he may per-
ceive tlie improbability that such motions are
real, or that all Infinitely Wise Being, wlio is tlie
Perfection of Order, would introduce such inex-
tricable confusion into the motions of the most
splendid of his works.— A common planetarium,
which shows by wheelwork, the relative motions
of IVIercury, Venus, the Earth, and Mars, may be
easily made to illustrate these motions, and to
solve all their phenomena. Let a circle, two or
three inches broad, and of such a diameter as to
surround the planets, with a few stars marked on
its inside to represent the Zodiac, be suspended on
three pillars, so as to inclose the Earth, Mercury,
and Venus. Let a wire be fixed by a socket, on
the top of the pillar which supports the ball rep-
resenting the Earth, and let this wire rest on a
slit or fork fixed to the top of the pillar which
supports the ball representing Mercury. When
the machine is set in motion, the wire will point
out on the Zodiac the apparent motions of Mer-
cury as seen from the earth. When he passe*
from his greatest elongation westward to the su-
perior conjunction and to his greatest elongation
eastward, the wire will move eastward, according
to the order of the signs. About its greatest
elongation, it will appear stationary, and immedi-
ately afterward will move westward, or contrary
to the order of the signs, until it arrive at the
western elongation, when it will again appear
stationary; — so that the pupil will plainly per-
ceive that the direct and retrograde motions of tho
planets, as seen from the earth, arc in perfect ac-
cordance with a regular circular motion around
the sun as a center ; and that siich apparently
irregular movements arise from the motion of the
earth, and the different velocities of the planets,
when oompared with it, — just as the objects
around us appear to move in different directions,
and with ditferent velocities, when we are sailing
along a serpentine river in a steamboat.

The arguments or considerations which prove
that the Earth is a moving body, should next be
presented to the attention, and illustrated in the
most simple and familiar manner of wliich the
subject will admit. The pupil will easily be
made to perceive, that, if the earth is at rest, the
whole frame of the material universe must move
round it every twenty-four hours; not only the
fixed stars, but the sun and moon, the planets and
their satellites, and every comet which traverses
the firmament, must participate in this motion,
while, at the same time, they are moving in an-
other and an opposite course peculiar to themselves.
He will perceive, that, in propolion as these

* Specimens of such diagrams mny lie seen in "Long'i
Astronomy," vol. i, and in plate 3 of "Ferguson's AstroE*.
my," Brewster's edition.

APPARENT MOTIONS OF THE PLANETS.

hodi^'s are distant from tlie earth, in a similar
proportion will be the velocity witli which tliey
perform their diurnal revolutions — that tiie sun
behooved to move Jive hundred and ninety seven
miUiuns of miles every day, the nearest fixed star
125,00n,0U0,U00,()U(J of miles in the same time, or
at tlie rate of fourteen hundred millions of miles
every second, and the most distant stars with a
velocity which neither words can express, nor
imagination conceive, — and that such motions,
if tliey actually existed, would, in all probability,
shatter tlie whole material frame of the universe
to atoms. He may be directed to consider, tliat
such rapid velocities (if they could be supposed
to exist) are not the motions of mere points or
small luminous bulls, but the motions of immense
globes, many thousands of times larger than the
earth — that a hundred millions of such globes are
visible from our abode, beside the myriads that
may be hid from human view in the unexplored
regions of space — and that it is impossible to con-
ceive how all these innumerable globes, of differ-
ent magnitudes, at different distances, and moving
with different velocities, could be so adjusted as
to finish their diurnal revolutions at the same
moment, while many of them are at the same
time impelled by other forces in a contrary direc-
tion. He may be reminded that the Creator, who
formed the universe, is possessed of Infinite
Wisdom — that wisdom consists in proportionating
means to ends, or in selecting the most appropri-
ate arrangements in order to accomplish an im-
portant purpose — that to make the whole frame
of Universal Nature move round the earth every
day, merely to produce the alternate succession
of day and night, is repugnant to every idea we
ought to entertain of the Wisdom and Intelli-
gence of the Divine Mind, since the same effect
can be produced by a simple rotation of the earth
in twenty-four hours ; and since we find that
Jupiter and Saturn, and other globes much larger
than ours, move round their axes in a sliorter
period — that in all the other works of Omnipo-
tence, means apparently the most simple are
selected to accomplish the most grand and mag-
nific'Mit designs — and that there is no example
known to us, throughout the universe, of a larger
body revolving around a smaller. When such
considerations are fully and familiarly illustrated,
the pupil will soon be made clearly to perceive,
that the rotation of the earth must necessarily
be admitted, and that it will fully account for all
the diversity of aiurnal motion which appears in
the sun and moon, the planets and the stars.

The annual revolution of the earth, and its
position in the solar system, might be proved and
illustrated by such considerations as the follow-
ing:— that if this motion did not exist, the mo-
tions of all the planets would present a scene of
;nextricabie confusion, consisti;ig of direct and
retrograde motions, and looped curves, so anoma-
lous and irregular, as to be inconsitent with
everything like harmony, order, or intelligence —
that Mercury and Venus are observed to have
two conjunctions with the sun, but no opposition;
which could not happen unless the orbits of these
planets lay within t%e orbit of the earth — that
Mars, Jupiter, and the other superior planets,
have each their conjunctions with, and oppositions
to, the sun, which could not be unless they were
exterior to the orbit of the earth — that the greatest
elongation of Mercury from the sun is only about
20 degrees, and that of Venus 47; but if the earth
were the center of their motions, as tlie Ptole-
maic system supposes, they might sometimes be
Been 180 degrees from the sun, which never hap-

pens— that fiune of the j)lanets appear much
larger and brighter at one lime than at another,
on account of their different 'distances from the
earth; but, on the other hypothesis, their bril-
liancy should be always the same — that Mercuiy
and Venus, in their superior conjunctions with
the sun, are sometimes hid behind his body, and
in their inferior conjunctions sometimes appear
to pass across the sun's disc, like round black
spots, which would be impossible according to the
Ptolemaic system; — and, in short, that the times
in which the conjunctions, oppositions, stations,
and retrogradaiions happen, are not such as they
would be if the earth were at rest, but precisely
such as would happen if the earth move along
with all the other planets, in the stations and pe-
riods assigned them in the system which has the
sun for its center. From such considerations,
when properly explained, the annual motion of
the earth, and its relative position in the system,
may be clearly demonstrated, and the pupil made
to perceive the beauty and harmony of the celes-
tial motions, and the necessity of having the
great source of light and heat placed in the center
of the system. For as the sun is intended to cheer
and irradiate surrounding worlds, it is from the
center alone that these agencies can be communi-
cated, in a uniform and equable manner, to the
planets in every part of their orbits. Were the
earth the center, and the sun and planets revolv-
ing around it, the planets when nearest the sun,
would be scorched with excessive heat, and wlieu
farthest distant would be frozen with excessive
cold.

There is another consideration by which the
earth's annual revolution and its position in the
system axe demonstrated; — and that is, that the
planets Mercury and Venus, when viewed through
good telescopes, are found to assume different
phases, in different parts of their orbits; some-
times appearing gibbous, sometimes like a half
moon, and at other times like a crescent, and a
full enlightened hemisphere, whi(;h could never
happen if they revolved round the earth as their
center, and if the earth was not placed in an orbit
exterior to that of Venus. I have sometimes illus-
trated this argument, with peculiar effect, by
means of an equatorial telescope and a common
planetarium. By the equatorial telescope, with a
power of 60 or 80 times, most of the stars of the
first magnitude, and some of those of the second,
may be seen even at noonday. Venus may be
seen by this instrument, in the daytime, during
the space of nineteen months, with the interrup-
tion of only about thirteen days at the time of
her superior conjunction, and three days at the
time of lier inferior, so that the phase she exhib-
its may be seen almost every clear day. Having
placed the Earth and Venus in their trui^ positions
on the planetarium, by means of an Ephemeris
or the Nautical Almanac, I desire the pupil to
place his eye in a line with the balls representing
these planets, and to mark tlie phase of Venus as
seen from the earth — whether a crescent, a half
moon, or a gibbous phase. I then adjust the
equatorial telescope for Venus, if she is within
the range of our view, and sltow him the }danct
with the same phase in the heavens. This exhibi-
tion never fails to gratiiy every obser\'er, and to
produce conviction. But it can seldom be made,
if we must wait until the planet be visible to the
naked eye, and capable of being viewed by a
common telescope; for it is sometimes invisible to
the naked eye, for nearly one-half of its course
from one conjunction to another. Beside, the
phases of this planet are more distinctly marked

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

in the dnytimp. when near the meridian, than
either in the morning or evening, when at a low
altitude, in which case it appears glaring and un-
defined, on account of the brilliancy of its light,
and the undulatiiig vapors near the horizon,
through which it is seen. As actual observations
on the planets in the lieavens make a deeper and
more convincing impression on the mind of a
young person, than mere diagrams or verbal ex-
planations, I consider an equatorial telescope, in
conjunction with a celestial globe and an orrery,
as essentially necessary to every teacher of as-
tronomy; as, independently of its use, now hinted
at, it is the best and most comprehensive instru-
ment for conveying an idea of the practical oper-
ations of this science. It may be made to serve
the g>>ncral purposes of a transit instrument, a
quadrant, an equal altitude instrument, a theo-
dolite, an azimuth instrument, a level, and an ac-
curate universal sun-dial. It serves for taking the
right ascensions and declinations of the heavenly
bodies, and for conveying a clear idea of these
operations. It may be made to point to any phe-
nomena in the heavens whose declination and
right ascension are known; and, in this way, the
planets Mercury, Herschel, Ceres, Pallas, Juno,
and Vesta, a small comet, or any other body not
easily distinguished by the naked eye, may be
readily pointed out.*

The cause of the variety of seasons may next be
explained and illustrated. It is difficult, if not im-
possible, by mere diagrams and verbal explanations,
to convey a clear idea on the subject; and there-
fore some appropriate machinery must be resorted
to, in order to assist the mind in forming its con-
ceptions on this point. The difficulty is, to con-
ceive how the sun can enlighten the North Pole
without intermission, during one half of the year,
and the South Pole during the other, while the
poles of the earth never shift their position, but
are directed invariablj' to the same points of the
heavens. This is frequently attempted to be illus-
trated by means of a brass hoop with a candle pla-
ced in its center, and a small terrestrial globe car-
ried round it having its axis inclined to the brass
circle, which is intended to represent the orbit of
the earth. But this exhibition requires some dex-
terity to conduct it aright, and after all is not
quite satisfactorj-. An orrery, having all the re-
quisite movements by wheel-work, and where the
Earth moves with its axis parallel to itself and in-
clined to the plane of the ecliptic, is the best in-
strument for illustrating all the variety of the sea-
sons. When such a machine cannot be procured
for this purpose, its place may be supplied by a
neat little instrument, called a Tellurium, which
has been manufactured for many years past by
Messrs. Jones, Holburn, London, and may he
purchased for about thirty sliillings. This instru-
ment consists of a brass ball representing the sun
— which may be occasionally screwed off, and a
lamp substituted in its place — an ivory ball repre-
senting the earth, having the circles of the sphere
drawn upon it, a small ball representing the moon,
and about eigiit wheels, pinions, and circles. It
exhibits the annual motion of the earth, and the
moon revolving around it, with its different phases,
the causes of eclipses, the retrograde motion of the
moon's nodes, and the inclination of its orbit to
the plane of the ecliptic. The earth is movable

* A small Riinatorial, having tlie Horizontal, Declination,
and Kqnatoriul circles about six inches diameter, surmount,
ed with a twenty-inch achromatic telescope, with magni-
fying powers of t'onn 30 to H) times, may he procured'for
about fiiteei or sixteen guineas, which will sene every aen-
•ral purpost in teachiug astronomy.

on an axis inclined 23}^ degrees to the ecliptls^
and its axis preserves its parallelism during its
course round the sun. The seasons are exhib ted
on this instrument as follows: — the index, which,
points out the sun's place and the day of the month,
is placed at the 21st March, the time of the vernal
equinox, and the north and south poles of the earth
are placed exactly u iider the terminator, or boundary
between light and darkness. When the machinery
is moved by the hand until the index points to the
21st of June, the time of the summer solstice
then the North Polar regions appear within the
boundary of light, and the South Polar within the
boundary of darkness. Turning the machine un-
til the index points to September 23d, both poles
again appear on the boundary of light and dark-
ness. Moving it on to December 21st, the Arctic
circle appears iu darkness, and the Antarctic in the
light. During these motions, the earth's axis
keeps parallel to itself, pointing uniformly in the
same direction. This exhibition is quite satisfac-
torj' and convincing; the only objection to the in-
strument is, that it is sraall, — about eight or nine
inches diameter — and, consequently, will admit
only four or live individuals at a time to inspect
its movements with distinctness.

A full and specific description should next be
given of all the facts connected with the solar
sj'stem — the distances and magnitudes of the sun
and planets — their annual and aiurnal revolutions
— the solar spots — the belts and satellites of Jupi-
ter— the rings of Saturn — the phases of Venus —
the spots of Mars, and the mountains and cavities
of the Moon. After which some details might be
given of the facts which have been ascertained re-
specting comets, variable stars, double and treble
stars, new stars, stars once visible v/hich have dis-
appeared, and the numerous nebulm which are
dispersed through different regions of the heavens.
The pupils sliould now be gratified with a view of
some of these objects through good telescopes. A
telescope, magnifying about 3U times, will show
the satellites of Jupiter, the crescent of Venus, the
solar spots, and the rugged appearance of the Moon.
With a magnifying power of 60 or 70, the ring of
Saturn, the belts of Jupiter, the shadows of the lu-
nar mountains, and cavities, and all the phases of
Venus, may be distinguished. But the views of
these objects obtained by such magnifying powers
are unsatisfactor)-. No telescope should be select-
ed for this purpose less than aS^o feet Achromat-
ic, with powers varying from 40 to 180 or 200
times.* A power of 150 is a very good medium
for inspecting all the more interesting phenomena
of the heavens. With this power, distinct and
satisfactory views may be obtained of the solar
spots, the pliases of Mercury, Venus, and Mars,
the belts, and sometimes the spots of Jupiter, and
the shadows of his satellites, the ring and some of •
the moons and belts of Saturn, the spots of Mars,
the minute hills and cavities of the moon, several
of the double stars, and many of th.e most remark-
able nebula. To perceive distinctly the division
of Saturn's ring, requires a power of at least 200
times. In exhibiting such objects to the young,
especially when the lower powers are used, some
attention is requisite to adjust the instrument to
distinct vision, as their eyes are generally more
convex than the eyes of persons advanced in life,
and those who are short sighted will require an
adjustment difTerent from that of others. Unless

• An Achromatic telescope of this description, with an
object-glass 47^ inches focal distance, and about threeinches
diameter, w itii 4 or a magnifying poweis, with a brass tube
mounted on a brass tripod, may be purchased ia London, fo(
25 guineas.

PHENOMENA OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM.

8y

this circumstance be attended to, tl)cir views of
ci'leslial piiciioineuu will frequently be unsatisfac-
tory and obscure. In exliibiting tlie surface of
tlie moon, the period of half n)oon, or a day or
two before or alter it, siiould generally be selected;
as it is only at such periods that the shadows of
tlio mountains and vales, and the circular ridges,
can be most distinctly perceived. At the time of
full moon, its hemisphere presents only a variega-
ted appearance of darker and brighter streaks,
and no shadows arc discernible; so tliat, from the
telescopic appearance of the full moon, we could
scarcely determine whether or not its surface
were diversified with mountains antJ vales.

Previous to exhibiting the moon through a tele-
scope, it M)ay be proper to give the observers an
idea of some particular objects thej' will see, on
which their attention should be fixed, and from
which they should deduce certain conclusions.
For, a view of the moon, for tlie first time, through
a powerful telescope, is apt to overpower the eye
and to produce a confused and indistinct percep-
tion. As one of the peculiarities of the lunar sur-
face consists in the numerous cavities and plains
surrounded with circular ridges of mountains, and
insulated mountains rising from a level surface —
an idea of the shadows and circumstances, by
which these objects are indicated, should be previ-
ously communicated. This may be done by means
of a saucer, the top of a small circular box, or
any other object which may represent a plain sur-
rounded by a circular ridge. In the middle of
any of these objects, may be placed a small peg to
represent a mountain. Then placing a candle at
the distance of a foot or two, so as to shine oblique-
ly upon the objects, the inside of a circular dish
farthest from the candle will be seen enlightened,
while a considerable portion of the bottom will be
covered by the shadow thrown upon it by the side
next the candle, and the shadow of the peg will
be seen verging toward the enlightened side.
This previous exhibition will give them an idea of
the form of some of the mountains -and vales on
tlis lunar surface, and enable them to appreciate
the nature of those striking inequalities which
appear near the boundary between the dark and
enlightened parts of the moon. Other objects
which diversify the moon's surface may be repre-
se)ited and illustrated in a similar manner, and
sutiic lent time should be allowed to every observer
for taking a minute inspection of all the varieties
on the lunar disc. The soZar spots may be viewed
with ease, by interposing a colored glass betv/een
the eye and the image of the sun; but, in looking
through the telescope in the ordinary way, they
can be perceived by only one individual at a time.
In order to exhibit them to a company of .30 or 40
persons at once, the image of the sun may be
thrown on a white wall or screen. I have gene-
rally exhibited them in the following manner.
To a 33o feet Achromatic telescope, I apply a di-
agonal eye-piece, which has a plain metallic spec-
ulum placed at half a right-angle to the axis of
the telescope. By this eye-piece, after the room
has been darkened as much as possible, the image
fif the sun and his spots is thrown upon the roof
of the apartment, which forms a beautiful circle
of light, and exhibits all the spots which then hap-
pen to diversify his surface. His apparent diur-
nal motion is also represented, along with the mo-
tions of any thin fleeces of clouds which may
happen to cross his disc. In this way, too, the
proportional magnitudes of the s,yOts may be mea-
sured, and compared with the diameter of the sun,
and, of course, their r<?ai magnitudes ascertained.
lu illustrating the phenomena of the planetary

system by means of orreries, planetariums, and
lunariums, great care should be taken to guard the
young against the false and imperfect conceptions
of the magnitudes and dLsiauccs of tlie planets,
which sucli instruments havt! a tendency to con-
vey. No orrery, of a portable size, can repre.sent,
at the same time, both the proportional distances
and relative magnitudes of the ditl'erent planets.
Even those large machines designated Eidoura-
nimns and Transparent Orreries aifbrd no correct
views of these particulars; and some of them
convey very erroneous and distorted conceptions
of tJie relations of the solar system, where it is
the chief design to dazzle the eye with a splendid
show. In some of these exhibitions I have seen
the stars represented as if th?y had been scattered
through different parts of the planetary system.
— An orrery representing the proportional dis-
tances and magnitudes of the sun and planets
would require to be more than three miles in
diameter; and, even on this scale, Jupiter would
he less than 3 inches diameter, the Earth a quar-
Iv^r of aii inch, or about the size of a small pea, and
Mercury only about the dimensions of the head
of a small pin, while the sun would require to be
represented by a ball 30 inches in diameter — in
which case all the planets would be invisible from
the center of the system. To correct, in some
measure, tlie erroneous ideas wliich a common
orrery is apt to convey, the magnitudes and dis-
tances should be separately represented. Suppose
a celestial globe, 18 inches in diameter, to repre-
sent the Sun, Jupiter will be represented by a ball
about 1 4-5 inch diameter; Saturn, by one of 1^3
inch; Herschel, by one of about ^^ inch; the Earth,
by a ball of 1-6 inch, or somewhat less than a
small pea; V^enus, by a ball of nearly the same
size; Mars, by a globule of about yg i^^'i; Mer-
cury, by a globule of y 5 , and the Moon by a still
smaller globule of -gV inch in diameter. These
three last might be represented by three different
sizes of pin-heads. When balls of these sizes are
placed adjacent to an 18-inch globe, and com-
pared with it, an impressive idea is conveyed of
the astonishing magnitude of the sun, which is
500 times greater than all the planets, satellites,
and comets, taken together. The proportional
distances may bo represented as follows. At one
end of a table, 9 feet in length, fix a ball upon a
pillar to represent the sun ; at 2 inches from the
sun's ball, place another to represent Mercury;
at 3)0 inches, Venus; at 5 inches, the Earth; at
73^ inches. Mars; at 25 inches, Jupiter; at 47j^
inches, or about 4 feet, Saturn; and, at 95 inches,
or about 8 feet from the sun's ball, place one to
represent Herschel. This will convey a pretty cor-
rect idea of the proportional distances from the sun
of the principal primary planets. The distances of
Ceres, Pallas, Juno, and Vesta, might likewise be
represented, if judged expedient; but as their or-
bits are more eccentric than those of the other
planets, and some of them cross eunli other, they
cannot be accurately represented. When orreries,
or telescopes cannot be procured for exhibiting the
celestial motions and phenomena to which I have
alluded, some of these objects, such as the rings
of Saturn, the belts and moons of Jupiter, the
phases of Venus, the Moon, and some of the
constellations, may be represented in a dark ^•oom
by means of the phantasmagoria. But the repre-
sentations made by this instrument form but a
rude and paltry substitute for the exhibitions
presented by the orrery and the telescope, and
need never be resorted to, except for amusement,
where these instruments can be obtained.

90

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

It might next be pxpodient to communicate to
the pupil an idea of the nature of a parallax, to pre-
pare him for understanding the mode by which
tlio distances and magnitudes of the heavenly
boilies are ascertained. This might he done by
fixing a polo or staff", with a pointed top, in a
garden or large area, opposite a wall or hedge,
F G, Fig. 1, and, desiring one of the pupils to
take his station at A, and anotlier at B, and to
direct their eyes to the points on the wall which
appear in a line with the top of the pole, when
the one stationed at A will perceive it to coincide
with the point C, and the other stationed at 13

Fig. 1.

will perceive it at D. They may be tpld that C D
is the parallax, or the difference of the apparent
place of the pole P, when viewed from the posi-
tions A and B, which is measured by the angle
C P D ; and that, if the distance between A
and B were measured, and the number of de-
degrees or minutes in the angle C P D or A
F B ascertained, the distance between the pole
and any of the stations can be easily deter-
mined. This may be easily applied to the case
of the heavenly bodies by means of such a dia-
gram as Fig. 2, where H I K represents the
Earth, M the Moon, P a planet, and S T a quad-
rant of the starry heavens. It is evident, that,
if the moon be viewed from the surface of the
earth at H, she will appear in the heavens at the
point a: but if she be viewed from the center C,
Bhe will be seen at the point b, the angle a. M. b
being the angle of parallax. This angle being
found, which is the same as the angle H M C,

Fig. 2.

K X

and the base line H C, or the earth's semidiameter
being known, which is nearly 4000 miles — the
length of the line H M, or the distance of the
moon, can be easily determined. It maj' be
proper also to state that the farther any heavenly
body is distant from the earth, the less is its
parallax. Hence the parallaxes of the sun and
planets are all much less than that of the moon,
which is the nearest celestial body to the earth.
Thus, the paralla.x c d of the planet P is less than

that of the Moon, M, and the same principle
likewise holds true with respect to all terrestrial
objects. This subject may soon be rendered
quite plain to the pupil, by familiar illustrations,
in connection with a lew iustructions on the na-
ture and properties of triangles, and the first prin-
ciples of trigonometry.

I have been somewhat particular in some of th«
hints thrown out above, because it is of some im-
portance that the young should have clear and
impressive conceptions of every object presented
to their view, in every step of their progress on
this subject, and not depend merely on the asser-
tions or the positions announced by their teachers;
and because such a train of observations and ex-
perimental illustrations has seldom been attended
to, in attempting to convey to the juvenile mind
a popular view of the leading facts of astronomy.
After the pupil has acquiied a knowledge of the
subjects to which I have adverted, an intelligent
teacher will find little difficulty in gradually un-
folding to him the doctrines and facts in relation
to solar and lunar eclipses — the tides — the form
of the planetary orbits — the nature of refraction
— the divisions of time — the mensuration of the
earth — centrifugal and centripetal forces — the
circles of the celestial sphere — and various other
particulars connected with astronomical science.

In illustrating the principles and exhibiting the
objects of astronomy, the pious and intelligent
teacher will have frequent opportunities of im-
pressing upon the minds of his pupils the most
sublime ideas of the Perfections of the Creator,
and of the Extent and Grandeur of his Empire,
and of inspiring them with Love, Admiration,
and Reverence; and such opportunities ought
never to be neglected. When descanting on the
number and magnificence of the celestial world,
he may very appropriately take occasion to im-
press them with the idea of the littleness of this
earth, and its comparative insignificance, when
placed in competition with the numerous and
more resplendent worlds and systems which com-
pose the universe ; and, consequently, with the
folly and madness of ambition, and of all those
warlike schemes and ferocious contentions, of
which our world has been the melancholy thea-
ter. He may occasionally expatiate a little on the
folly of pride, and its inconsistency with the
character and circumstances of man, wlien we
consider his comparative ignorance, and the low
station which he holds in the scale of creation —
and the reasonableness of cultivating a spirit of
humility in the presence of that Almighty Being
whose "glory is above the heavens," and "whose
kingdom ruleth over all," when we consider,
that, when compared with the mj'riads ef more
exalted intelligences that people the universe, we
are only like a few atoms in the immensity of
space. He may direct their attention to the in-
finitely diversified scenes of grandeur and felicity
which the universe must contain, since its range
is so extensive and its olijects so magnificent;
and to the evidence vi'hich these facts alTord, that
the Creator has it in his power to gratify his
rational offspring with new objects, and new
sources of enjoyment, during every period of
infinite duration. — In short, he may excite them,
from such considerations, to aspire after that more
glorious state of existence where the works of
Omnipotence will be more fully unfolded, and to
cultivate those holy principles and dispositions
which will qualify them for mingling in the
society and engaging in the employments of the
heavenly world. Such instructions, when amal-
gamated with Christian views and motives, could

MECHANICS.

91

not fail of producing a beneficial impression on
the susceptible hearts of the young, which might,
in some measure, iutluence their conduct and
train of thought through all the remaining peri-
ods of their lives.*

SECTION IX

E.XPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY .l.VD CHEMISTRY.

The object of Natural and Experimental Phi-
losophy is to investigate the phenomena of the
material world, in order to discover their causes,
and the laws by which the Almighty directs the
movements of the universe; and to apply the
observations and discoveries vvc make to useful
purposes in human life, and to expand our views
of the jjerfectious and operations of the Creator.
This department of study has generally been
divided into the following subordinate branches,
Mechanics, Hydrostatics, Hydraulics, Pneumatics,
Meteoroloyij, Acoustics, Ojdics, Electricity, Gal-
vanism, and Magnetism. This is a subject, the
popular and experimental parts of which may be
rendered highly entertaining and instructive to
the minds of the young. But, however important
the subject in all its branches may be to the regu-
ar scientific student, it would be inexpedient to
attempt conveying more than a general view of
the more popular parts of it to young persons
from tlie age of ten to the age of fourteen,
although many of the experiments connected
with it may, with propriety, be exhibited even to
children of an earlier age, in order to excite a
taste for the study of natural science. Experi-
mental illustrations of the subjects of Natural
Philosophy sometimes require an extensive appa-
ratus, which cannot be procured but at a consi-
derable expense; but there are many interesting
experiments, illustrative of scientific principles
and facts, which can be performed with very

* The most celebrated writers on Astronomy are Lon;;,
Ferguson, La Caille, Martin, O. Gregory, Vince, Herschel,
Rolii>on, La Lande, La Place, Biot, and various others.
Popular works on this subject, which may be put into the
hands of yown^ persons, are such as the following: — I'ergu-
son's "Gentleman and Lady's Astronomy" — Martin's "Gen-
tleman and Lady's Philosophy," vol. i. — F>onnycastle's
'Introiluction to Astronomy" — Mrs. Brian's "Astronomy"
—"The ^Venders of the Heavens" — Gregory's "Astronomi-
cal Lessons," &c. But none of these works are adapted to
the purpose oj teaching. The best treatise of this kind I
have seen, calculated to be a text-book for an iatelligeut
teacher, is a work entitled "The Geography of the Hea-
vens," by Elijah H. Burrit, A. >I , lately published at
1{artforil, State of Connecticut. This volume comprises
342 closely printed pages, large 18nio., and several appro-
priate wood-cuts. It contains a very full and Incid descrip-
tion of all the particulars respecting the different constella-
tions and principal stars, the general principles of astronomy,
the facts connected with the solar system, problems, astro-
nomical tables, and almost everything that can be deemed
interesting to the general student. Every page contains
Questions, as exercises for the judirment of the pupil. It is
accompanied by a lari'e and beautiful Atlas, 16 inches by \4,
eontaining 7 Planispheres or Maps of the l^eavens: 1. The
risible heavens in October, November, and December. 2.
Do. in .lar.nary, February, and :\Iarcli. 3. Do. in April,
May, and June. 4. Do. in July, August, and September.
5. The visible heavens in the North Polar Regions for each
month of the year. 6. Do. in the South Polar Regions. 7.
Planisphere of the whole heavens on .Mercator's projection.
"The first four maps are so constructed, that the pupil in
nsing them mnst suppose himself to face the south, and to
hold them directly over head, in such a manner that the top
of the map should be toward the north, and the bottom to
ward the soutli." In the construction of these maps, ami
in the composition of the work, the latest discoveries have
been carefully inserted. This work, since its first publica-
tion in 18:^3, has had an extensive sale in the United States,
gnil been introduced into many respectable seminaries.

simple apparatus; and at little expense; and all
that 1 propose, under this article, is to suggest a
few of those experiments which almost every
teacher may have it in his power to perform.

In the department of Mechanics, — illustrations
might be given of the mechanical powers, which
are generally arranged under the iieads of the Icner,
the pulley, the inheel and axis, the inclined plane,
the wedge, and the screw. A simple apparatus
for illustrating these powers could easily be con-
structed by an ingenious mechanic, at a trifling
expense, and might be rendered conducive both
to the entertainment and instruction of the
young. In particular, the nature and power of
the lever, and the principle on which it acts,
should be minutely explained, by experimental
illustrations, and by showing its effects in the
common operations of life. A long bar of iron
or hard wood might be erected on a steady ful-
crum, and placed in the area adjacent to the
school, which might serve both for amusement
and for illustrating the power of the lever. This
bar might be divided into feet or half feet, or any
convenient number of equal parts, and so con-
structed that any of those parts might be placed
upon the fulcrum. By such a lever the different
powers to be applied at distances from the ful-
crum, when a weight is to be raised, might be
familiarly illustrated. A seat or swing might be
fixed at one end of the beam, on which a boy
might sit, while some of his companions, toward
the other end, applied different powers or weights
at different distances from the fulcrum, as a coun-
terpoise; which would suggest various calcula-
tions respecting the powers requisite to be applied
in any given case, according to the distance from
the point of support. It will tend to excite their
interest in this subject, when they are informed
that scissors, pinchers, snuffers, oars, the balance,
the see-saio, doors turning on hinges, the rudders
of ships, cutting-knives fixed at one end, and the
bones of the arm, are all so many different kinds
of levers; and that the operations of quarrying
stones, raising great weights, poking the fire,
rowing a boat, digging the ground, and such like,
are all performed on the principle of this mecha-
nical power. Similar contrivances might be
adopted for illustrating the wheel and axle and
other powers. A knowlecfge of the mechanical
powers may be useful to every individual, what-
ever may be his trade or profession in future life,
but particularly to those who may afterward
engage in the arts of carpentry, architecture,
mining, engineering, and other operations where
a knowledge of the mechanical powers is essen-
tially requisite; and the iinpressions made upon
their minds in early life by familiar illustrations
of these powers, would tend to facilitate their
studj' of such objects wlien they became the more
particular objects of their attention.

The fundamental principles of Hydrostatics and
Hydraulics might be fainiliarly illustrated by a
variety of simple experiments, some of which
migiit be rendered extremely amusing. That
fluids press in all dfrections — that their pressure
is in proportion to their perpendicular hight — that
a small quantity of a fluid may be made to coun-
terpoi'^e any quantity, however great — that a fluid
specifically lighter than another will float upon
its surface — that the surface of all fluids which
communicate with each other will be on the same
level — that the velocity with which water spouts
from holes in the side of a vessel, is in proportion
to the square root of the distance of t!ie holes
below the surface of the water: — These, and simi-
lar positions, along with the principles on whicli

92

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

*yplions, jots, and artificial fountmns act, can be
illustrated with an apparatus wliich every iiitolii-
geut teaciier, if he has the le.ist siiare of mechani-
cal ingenuity, can easily construct for liimself,
witii the assistance of glass vessels, which are to
be found in almost every family. To sliovv tliat
water will find its level, and rise to the same iiiglit
in tubes which have a communication, an instru-
mout siniiiur to the following. Fig. 1, may be

bight of the fountain, A B. A jet may likewis*
be produced by tlie instrument recommended,
Fig 1, by plugging up the tube E D, and opening
a hole at C, when a jet will arise after the tuben

Fig. 4.

Fig.l

nE

mm

!!l! ii

ifi

^D

constructed: — A B and E D are two tubes which
have a communication with each other by means
of the tube B D; if water is poured into the tube
A B, it will run through the tube B D, and stand
at the same elevation in the tube E D. To save
expense, the tube B D may be made of wood, and
plugged up at both ends; and the glass tubes A B,
E D, fixed into it at each end with cement; and
if B D be made flat on its under part, it will
stand on a table without requiring any support.
An instrument to show that a small portion of
water will counterbalance a large quantity, may
be made as follows : — A B, Fig. 2, is a vessel
Fig. 2. which may be

A either square or

round, and which
may be made
either of wood or
tin-plate; C D is
a glass tube of a
narrow bore, ce-
mented into the
short tube E,
which communi-
cates with the
large vessel ; if
water be poured
into either of
these, it will stand
at the same hight
in both, which
proves, that the
small quantity of
water in the tube
C D, balances the
large quantity in
the vessel A B, and
illustrates what has
been termed the
hydrostfitical para-
dox. Jets and foun-
tains may be re-
presented and il-
lustrated by such
an instrument as
Fig. .3, where A B
is tiie reservoir,
and C D E a tube
connected with it,
bent at right angles
at D; when these
are filled with
water — the finger having previously been pressed
npou the opening F — as soon as the finger is
removed, the water rises in a jet, nearly to the

are filled with water. To show the differcn
quantities and velocities of water spouting at dif-
ferent distances from the surface of a reservoir,
such a vessel as that represented above rjiay be
used. The water will issue from the orifice at C
with greater velocity, and consequently in greater
quantity than at B or A; if the orifice C be four
times as deep below the surface as the oriiice A,
it will discharge twice as much water in a given
time as A, because 2 is the square root of 4; if the
orifice B be in the center of the column of water,
it will project the water to the greatest horfeontiil
distance. The vessel here represented may be
made either of wood or of tin-plate, and if a bent
tube be inserted at D, and the holes ABC shut
up, it may serve to exhibit a jet cfcau. The cup
of Tantalus, the fountain at command, the lydrau-
tic dancers and divers, and other entertaining de-
vices might also be exhibited, and accompanied
with explanations of the principles on which they
act. By such means, several of the leading prin-
ciples of hydrostatics might be easily im])ressed
upon the youthful mind, and would dou'iile«;s be
found of practical utility in future life, i)rovided
the teacher is careful to show, by familiar ex-
amples, how they explain many of the pheno-
mena of nature and operations of art.

The science of Pneumatics afTords scope for
many curious discussions and experiments re-
specting the air and atmospherical phenomena,
which may be rendered interesting to the young
In illustrating the pressure, elasticity, and otliei
properties of the atmosphere, the assistance of
the air-pump, with its usual apparatus is highly
desirable; as, without it, some of the most inte-
resting experiments on this subject cannot be
performed. But where this instrument, on ac-
count of its expense, cannot be procured, various
useful and entertaining experiments may be ex
hibited by means of a simple apparatus which
almost every one can procure. For example, the
pressure of the atmosphere may be proved to the
conviction of every one by such simple experi-
ments as the following: — The common experi-
ment of filling a wine-glass with water, covering
its mouth with a piece of paper, and then in-
verting it, is quite decisive of the atmospheric
pressure; for the paper underneath, instead of
being convex by the pressure of the water within,
is concave, by the pressure of the atmosphere
from without; and no other cause can be assigned
why the water is supported in the glass. Another
simple experiment, where no paper is employed,
proves the same fact: Take a glass tube, two or
three feet long, with a narrow bore; put one end
of it into a vessel of vi'ater, put your mouth to
the other end, and make a deep inspiration until
the air is drawn out of the tube, when the water
will rush to the top of the tube; then place your
thumb on the top to prevent the access of air
from above, and when the other end of the tab^

PNEUMATICAL EXPERIMENTS.

93

Is taken out of the water, the cokimn of water
will be suspended iu the tube by the atmospheric
pressure, altl)OUg-li the lower end of it is open.
When the air is sucked out of the tube, a vacuum
is produced, and the external air, pressing upon
the surface of tlie water in the vesisel, forces it to
the top of the tube; the thumb being applied
prevents the air pressing the water down, and
the atmosph'-Mic pressure on the bottom prevents
the wat.-r from running out. The same fact is
proved by the following experiment: Let a piece
of burning paper be put into a wine-glas.s, so as
to rarefy or exhaust the air, and wliile it is still
buruing, press the palm of the hand against tiie
mouth of the glass, when it will adhere with a
considerable degree of force, by the pressure of
t]i6 atmosphere on the bottom and sides of the
glass. This experiment may be varied as fol-
lows: Pour a certain quantity of water into a
saucer; invert a wine-glass over a piece of burn-
ing paper or burning brandy, and, after holding-
it a short tisne in the flame, place it in the saucer,
when the water will rush up into the glass in
consequence of tlie atmospheric pressure, as it
did iu the glass tube wheji it was exhausted of
its air by suction. These and similar experi-
ments, which every one may perform, are as
decisive proofs of the atmospheric pressure as
tliose whicli are performed by means of the air-
pump. Such experiments, when conducted by
intelligent teachers, may easily be applied to the
explanation of the causes of certain natural and
artificial processes, such as the firm adherence
of two polisljed surfaces — the action of a boy's
eucker iu lifting large stones — the operation of
euppinc) — the process of a child's sucking its
mother's breast — the effects produced by cements
— the rise of water in pumps — the firm adhesion
of snails and shell-fish to rocks and stoues — the
action of syphons — what is termed suction, as
when we take a draught of water from a run-
ning stream — the fact, that a cask will not run,
iu certain cases, unless an opening is made in its
top — and inany similar processes, some of whicli
will be found of considerable practical utility.

The elasticity of the air may be proved by such
experiments as these: — Take a bladder, and fill it
with air by blowing into it, and then apply a force
to the sides of it, so as to compress it into a
smaller space; when the force is removed, it im-
mediately expands and fills the same space as
before. This experiment proves, not only the
elasticity of air, but that, though invisible, it is
as much a material substance as wood or iron;
for no force can bring the sides together, without
breaking the bladder, although the parts of an
empty bladder may be squeezed into any shape.
The same thing is proved by the following experi-
ment:— Open a pair of common bellows, and then
Btop the nozzle, so that no air can rush out — and
no force whatever can bring the parts together,
without bursting the leather, or unstopping the
nozzle. That heat increases the elasticity of air,
may be shown, by placing before a strong fire a
bladder with a small quantity of air, wlien the
Email portion of air will expand, until the bladder
appear quite full and ready to burst. These ex-
periments maybe applied to the explanation of
Buch phenomena as the following: — Why the
compressed air between the liquid and the cork,
in a bottle of beer or ale, bursts forth in the form
of froth when the cOrk is drawn — why fishes, in
consequence of their air-bladders, are enabled to
rise and sink in the water — and why the carcass
«f a man that has been drowned, iu a few days
rises and floats on the surface for a short time,

Vol. I.— 32

and then sinks to rise no more. The compressi-
hilUij of air may be shown, by taking a glass tube
wlueli is open only at one end, and of course full
of air, and plunging the open end into a vessel
of water, when the water will be seen to have
risen to a small hight, near the bottom of the
tube, which proves that the air which filled the
whole length of the tube is compressed by the
water, into a smaller space. In a similar way
the principle of the dlmng-hell may be illustrated.
Let A B, Fig. 1, represent a large tumiiler or
drinking-glass, which may be nearly filled with
water. Place a piece of cork on the surface of
the water, and over the cork an ale-glase C
D, with its mouth downward, then push the
glass pcrpendiculary down toward the bottom of
the tumbler, and the
cork will appear swim-
ming a little above the
bottom; plainly indica-
ting that there is no
water above it in the
ale-glass, which is pre-
vented from entering
by the resistance of the
air within. The water
in the tumbler may re-
present the water of a
river or of the sea; the
ale-glass may represent
the diving-bell, in which
a person may sit with
safety in the depths of
the sea without touch-
ing the water, provided
fiesh air be supplied.
A small quantity of
water will be found to
have entered the ale-glass, and the deeper it is
plunged in any vessel the higher will the water
rise within it. At the depth of 33 feet, where
tlie pressure of the atmosphere is doubled, a
diving-bell will be half filled with water — at the
depth of 66 feet, it will be two-thirds filled— at
the depth of 99 feet, it wiir be three- fourths filled,
and so on in proportion to the depth; which sliows
the propriety of having this vessel in the form of
a bell, that the perpendicular hight of the water
may be as little as possible." The following sim-
ple experiment illustrates the pressure of the
atmosphere in'a mode somewhat different from
those already stated. Procure a tin vessel about
six or seven inches long, and three iu diameter
having its mouth about a quarter of an inch wide,
as E F, Fig. 2. In its bottom make a number of

Fig. 2.

Fig. 3.

small holes, about the diameter of a common
sewing-needle. Plunge this vessel in water, ana

94

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

when fall cork it up, so that no air can enter at
the top. So long as it renmins corked, no water
will run out — tlu' pressure of tho atmosjjherc at
tlie bottom preveutinji it; but as soon as it is
uncorked, the water will issue from the small
holes in the bottom, by the pressure of tho air
from above. The same experiment may bo ninde
by means of a tube, seven or eight inches long,
and about three-fourths of an inch in diameter,
having two or three small holes in its bottom;
and another lube, G II, Fig -i, of t!ie same di-
mensions, having a small hole in each side, I K,
will illustrate the lateral pressure of the atmo-
sphere— the water being retained when it is
corked, and running out when the cork is re-
moved. It will likewise illustrate the lateral
pressure of water and other liquids.

Several amusing experiments may also be per-
formed by means of syphons, when concealed in
drinking-cups and other vessels; and the utility
of the principle on which they act may be illus-
trated in certain practical operations. For ex-
ample, their use may be shown in conveying
water over a rising ground. In Fig. 4, let M
represent a pond or pool of water, in a quarry or

Fig. 6.

other situation, which is wished to be drained, and
where there is no declivity or lower ground adja-
cent to which the water can be conveyed — it may
be carried over the rising ground M N, by means
of the syphon 31 N L; provided the perpendicular
elevation N P above the level of the pool M, does
not exceed thirty-two feet, for to that hight only
will the water rise in the syphon by the pressure
of the atmosphere; and provided that the end of
the syphon at L descends a little way beyond the
.'evel of the pool at M, — in which case, when the
syphon is filled, the water will rush out at L, so
long as any remains in the pond. In the same
way may be shown how a cask of liquor may be
decanted by a syphon placed in a hole made in
its upper side. The use of the syphon might
likewise be shown when placed in a reverse posi-
tion, as in Fig. 5, when it may be applied to the

pnrppse of conveying water from a fountain at
R, along a hollow or valley to a house, S, at the
same hight on the other side of the valley; and
however deep or broad the valley may be, the water
may in this manner be conveyed, provided the
syphon is sufficiently strong near its lower parts
to sustain the perpendicular pressure of the water.
The following simple and interesting experi-
ment might be exhibited to show the effects of the
«7Jansion of air. Procure a common Florence
Bask, F G, Fig. 6, and pour into it a large wiue-

glassful of water; then take a tube, I H, bent at
the top, II, like a small syphon, and fasten it air'
tight into the mouth of the flask, I, so tiiat it»
bottom may be immersed in the water at K, but
not touching the bottom of the flask. Then im-
merse the flask into a vessel of
very hot water, when in conse-
quence of the expansion of the
air in the flask, the water at K
will be forced up into the iu\ie
I H, where it is received into a
wine-glass at H. Holding the
wine-glass, into which the water
is now received, at the end of tlie
tube, as represented in the figure,
take the flask out of the hot wa-
ter, and plunge it into anothei
vessel full of cold water, and the
water in the wine-glass will be
thrown back into the bottom of
Q the flask, by the pressure of the
atmosphere on its surface at H.
The flask may then be again im-
K mersed in the hot water, when
the water at its bottom will be
thrown up into the wine-glass, as
before, and the operations may
be reoeated as often as judged expedient. This
experiment when dextrously performed, seldom
fails to produce a pleasing effect upon the specta-
tors, especially when the water is tinged with a red
color, bv means of the sulphuric or any other acid
dropped into an infusion of red cabbage.*

The science of Optics affords scope for many
delightful and interesting experiments; but soma
of its instruments are very expensive. I shall
therefore state only a few simple exhibitions and
experiments which can be made at a trifling ex-
pense. Before the teacher can illustrate any of
the principles of tliis science by experiment, it
will be requisite that he provide himself with a
few convex lenses, some of short and others of
pretty long focal distances. For example, double
or plano-convex glasses, i., inch, 1 inch, 3 and 4
inches, focal distance, which may be made to
illustrate tho construction of a compound micro-
scope, as I have elsewhere shown in my work,
"On the Improvement of Society." Also lenses,
from 3 to 6 or 8 feet focus, to illustrate the con-
struction of a telescope, and the nature of a camera
obscura; and two or three concave mirrors for

* In arranging and performin? SDch simple experiments as
those above stated, it is expedient that the teacher or ope-
rator should know how to cut vials and glass tubes, and to
form syphons The neck of a common vial may be cut otT
so as to form a tube, hy slightly indenting a portion of the
circumference with the sharp edge of a common file, and
then, with the point of a hot iron, beginning at the inden-
tion, go round tiie circumference of the vial, and the head
will at once be separated from the body. Otherwise, tie a
thread which has been steeped in turpentine or spirits of
wine, firmly round the month of the vial, then set fire to it,
and the operation is performed. In the same manner, long
glass tubes may be cut into any lengths. If the tubes be of
a small diameter, it is only requisite to indent tliem with a
file at the point where they are intended to be cut, and then
holding one end of the tube in the left hand, give a blow
with the right on the other end, and the tube will snap
asunder. — To bend a glass tube into the form of a sj-phon:
Put the tube through the bars of a common grate, when th«
fire is burning clear; let the part of the tube which is to he
bent be in the center or hottest part of the fire; lake hold of
the tube at both ends, and when- it begins to melt near thm
middle, gently bend it with both hands, in the form which it
wanted, and then remove it from the fire. A little eipe.
rience will render such operations quite easy and efficient
for the purpose intended. If a small bend only at one end
of the tube is required, that end may be put into the flr«
until it be^in to melt, then take hold of it gently with a
pair of tongs, and bend it in the form required with the righl
hand.

OPTICAL EXPERIMENTS.

95

iflustxating some of the phenomena of reflection.
The principle on which a compound microscope,
a solar microscope, and a magic lantern or phan-
tasmagoria, are constructed may be shown by one
easy experiment. Let A, Fig. 1, represent a con-
vex glass, .suppose six inches focal distance, and
B the Hame of a candle. Hold the glass. A, at a
litUo more than six inches from the candle, and
on an opposite wall will be formed a large magni-
fied imago of the candle, C E D. This image
will be inverted, and larger than the flame of the
candle in proportion as the distance, A E, from

Fig. 1.

the glass to the wall, exceeds the distance A B,
from the glass to the candle. Suppose the dis-
tance A B to be exactly G inches, and the distance
A E to be 7 feet or b;4 inches, then the image of
the candle will be magnified in proportion, of 6 to
64, or 14 times. In this experiment the candle
represents the object to be magnified in a com-
pound microscope, A the object-glass, and C D
the image formed by the lens, which is magnified
a second time by the eye-glass of the microscope.
In reference to the solar microsco])c, the candle
represents the small object to be magnified, and
C D its magnified image on a. white wall or
screen; and in reference to the magic-lantern, or
phnntasmagoria, the candle represents the figures
painted on the sliders, A the convex lens which
throws the image of the figures on a screen, and C
D the magnified image of the painted figures. In
all these Instruments, the principle on which the
objects are magnified is precisely the same; the
size of the imago is always in proportion to its
distance from the lens by which it is form«d; but
as the image is enlarged it becomes less brilliant
and distinct, and therefore there is a proper me-
dium which must be fixed upon as to the distance
between the lens and the screen on which the
image is thrown; but a skillful teacher will always
know how to inodify such circumstances.

The nature of a telescope and of the camera ob-
scura may be illustrated as follows: Fix a lens of
4, 5, or 6 feet focus, in a hole made in a window-
shutter; darken the room, so tliat no light can
enter hut through the lens.* If its focal distance
be 5 feet, or 6U inches, a white screen placed at
that distance will receive the image of the objects
without, opposite the glass, where they will be
beautifully depicted in all their forms, colors, and
motions, in an inverted position, forming a kind
of living picture. This exhibition never fails to
excite the admiration of the young. If now, a
lens, about 2 inches focus be placed 2 inches be-
yond the image thus formed, and the screen re-
moved— in looking through this lens, the objects
will appear magnified in the proportion of 2 inches

* A lens is a round piece of glass, ground eittier concave
or convex. AH lenses that magnify objects, are convex, or
thicker in the miiiille than at the edge, such as common
magnifiers, reading-glasses, and the glasses used in micro-
tco|ies and telescujies, except the Galilean perspective, in
whieb the eye-glass is concave.

to 60, that is, 30 times; and as the image was in-
verted, so the object, as seen through the glass,
will appear as if turned upside down. This is per-
haps one of the best modes of explaining the prin-
ciple of a refracting telescope, and the reason why
the object appears inverted, when viewed with a
single eye-glass. The same thing may be partly
shown by a common telescope. Having takea
out all the eye-glasses, except the one next the
eye, adjust the telescope to distinct vision, and all
the objects seen through it will appear as if turned
upside down. The manner in which the image is
reversed by the other eye-glasses, and the object
made to a[)pear u])right, might then be explained.
Objects might likewise be exhibited through a
telescope, as appearing in different positions and'
directions. This is effected by means of a diago-
nal eye-piece, which is constructed in the follow-
ing manner: Let A B, Fig. 2, represent a convex
glass about 2 inches focal distance; G D a plain
metallic speculum, of an oval form, well polished,
and placed at half a right-angle to the axis of the
tube; and E F, another convex lens, 2 inches
focns. The center of the speculum may be about
13^ inch from A B, and about }.^ inch from E F

Fig. 2.

The rays proceeding from the lens A B, and fail-
ing upon the speculum, are reflected in a perpenr
dicular direction to the lens E F, where they en-
ter the eye, which looks down upon the object
through the side of the tube. When this eye-
piece is applied to a telescope, with the lens E F
on the upper part of it, we look down upon the
object as if it were under our feet. If we tura
the eye-piece round in its socket a quarter of a
circle towurd the left, an object directly before us
in the south will appear as if it were in the west,
and turned upside down. If from this position, it
is turned round a semicircle toward the right, and
the eye applied, the same object will appear as if
it were situated in the east; and if it be turned
round another quadrant, until it be directly op-
posite to its first position, and the eye applied
from below, the object or landscape will appear as
if suspended in the atmosphere above us. Such
experiments, when accompanied with proper dia-
grams, and an explanation of optical principles,
may easily be rendered both entertaining and in-
structive.

A camera obscura, Figr. 3.

on a larger scale, and
on a different plan
from that alluded to
above, might be erect-
ed on the top of every
school-house, which
is constructed with a
flat roof, as formerly
suggested. Fig. 3
contains a represen-
tation of a wooden
building, on the top
of which is a large
convex lens H I,
about 10 or 12 feet

96

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

fociil distarico At half a right-angle to tliis lens
is a plain speculum, by wliicli the rays of light
from the objects O are reflected downward
througii the lens, which forms a picture of all tlie
objects before the speculum, on a round white
table, T, in all their colors, motions, and propor-
tions. If the speculum be iii:ide to revolve, the
whole of the surrounding landscaiie may be suc-
cessively depicted on the table. When the lens
is of a long focal distance, as from 10 to 15 or 20
feet, it proj|uces a pretty powerful telescopical
elfv'ct, so that objecls may be distinctly perceived
at a considerable distance, and individuals recog-
nized on the picture at the distance of a mile or
more. Wherever there are objects in motion,
sucli as ships sailing, birds flying, smoke ascend-
ing, crowds of people moving to and fro, or boys
and girls engaged in their amusements; this exhi-
bition always affords a high degree of satisfaction.
It might occasionally be used, not only as an
illustration of optical principles, but also as a
reward for diligence and good behavior.

In connection with tiie above, representations
might be given of natural and artificial objects as
exhibited by the phantasmagoria. Discarding the
riaiculous and childisli figures which were for-
merly used in the common magic lanterns, opti-
cians have now constructed sliders which exhibit
representations of the telescopic appearances of'
the heavenly bodies, the ditFerent constellations,
the motions of the earth and moon, and various
objects connected with botany, mineralogy, and
zoology; and such objects, when exhibited in this
manner, are calculated to produce both instruc-
tion and amusement. The solar microscope in
particular (or the oxy-hydrogen, if it can be pro-
cured), should be occasionally exhibited to the
young, to convey to them some ideas of the won-
derful minuteness of the atoms of matter, and the
admirable mechanism displayed in tiie structure
of vegetables arid the bodies of animals, particu-
larly in those myriads of animalcula; which are
invisible to the unassisted eye. Such aniinalculse
may be procured almost at any season, but parti-
cularly during the summer months, by infusing in
separate open vessels, small bits of grass or hay,
leaves of flowers, or other vegetable substances,
when, after a week or ten days, auimalcnlce of
different kinds, according to the nature of the
substances infused, will be perceived in vast
numbers, by tlie aid of the microscope, in every
drop of the infusion. A compound microscope is
perhaps as good an instrument as any other for
giving a steady and satisfactory view of such
objects; and the only objection to its use for a
school is, that only one individual can see the
object at a time. When a teacher is not fur-
nished with an instrument of this kind fitted up
in the usual way, he may, witli a little trouble,
construct a compound microscope, by means of
the eye-piece of a common pocket achromatic
telescope, which may be purchased for one
guinea, or less. The eye-pieces of such tele-
scopes contain four glasses arranged on a princi-
ple somewhat similar to that of the glasses of a
compound microscope. If we screw off one of
these eye-pieces, and look through it in the usual
way, holding the object end about a quarter of an
inch distant from any small object, such as the
lottcrs of a printed book, it will appear magnified
about ten or twelve times in length and breadth;
remove from the tube the third glass from the
eye, which is the second from the object, and look
through it in the same manner, holding it more
than an inch distant from the object, and it will
appear magnified more than twenty times in dia-

meter, or above 400 times in surface. If, by
means of small pasteboard tubes, or any other
contrivance, we attach the glass that was taken
out of the object-glass of the eye-piece, so as to
be nearly close to it, we shall have a magnifying
power of nearly forty times: or, if yie substitute
for these two object-glasses a single glass of about
a half-inch focal distance, we shall form a pretty
good compound microscope, magnifying abovo
forty times in diameter, and 161)0 times in sur-
face, which will afford very pleasing views of
Various objects in the animal and vegetable king-*
doms. The magnifying powers now stated will
dilTer somewiiat in different eye-pieces, according
to their lengths and the focal distances of the
glasses of which they are composed. The tube of
the eye-piece thus arranged, may be occasionally
fittted into a pasteboard tube supported by three
pillars, in which it may be moved up or down for
adjusting it to distinct vision, and the object
placed underneath and properly illuminatod.
These hints are suggested on the score of eco-
nomy, for those who have no regular microscopic
apparatus.

Various amusing experiments beside the above
might be exhibited to the young, such as the opti-
cal paradox, an instrument through which objects
may be seen, although a board or other opaqua
body be interposed between the eye and the
objects — the prism, which, in a dark room, sepa-
rates the ])rimary colors of the solar rays — the
multiplying glass, which makes one object appear
as if there were ten, tvi^entj^ or thirty — the burn-
ing-glass, which, by means of the sun's rays,
sets on fire dark-colored paper, wood, and other
inflammable substances — and optical illusions pro-
duced by the various refractions and reflections
of light in water, combinations of plane mirrors,
and by concave speculums. A concave mirror,
about 5 or 6 inches diameter, and 10 or 12 inches
focus, which may be procured for about h;df-a-
guinea or 15 shillings, is of great utility for a
variety of exhibitions. 1. When held at nearly
its focal distance from one's face, it represents it
as magnified to a monstrous size. 2. When lield
in the solar rays, directly opposite the sun, it col-
lects the rays into a focus before it, so as to act a3
a powerful burning-glas?, and in this way a ho!8
may be burned in a thin board. 3. When hung
at an elevation of about 5 feet, and a per.-jou
placed opposite to it, at 6 or 7 feet distant, he will
see his image hanging in the air in an inverted
position, between him and the mirror, and if ho
approach a little nearer the mirror, and hold out
his hand toward it, the image will appear to do
llie same, as if about to shake hands, and if he
stretch his hand still nearer the mirror, the hand
of his image will appear to pass by his hand, and
approach nearer his body. 4. Such a mirror is
of use in explaining the construction of a reflect-
ing telescope. When it is held opposite to a win-
dow, the image of the sash and of the objects
without the window will be seen depicted in its
focus on a piece of white paper held between it
and the window, which represents the manner in
which the first image is formed by the great mir-
ror of a reflecting telescope ; — and the manner in
which the small speculum of a Gregorian reflector
forms the second image, may be shown by hold-
ing the mirror at a little more than its focal dis-
tance behind a candle, and throwing its magnified
image upon an opposite wall, in the same way as
the lens, fig. 1, p. 95, by refraction, produced tho
enlarged image C D. 5. If a bright fire be made
in a large room, and a very smooth, well-polished
mahogany table bo placed at a considerable dis-

tancc near the wall, and the concave mirror so
phiceil that the liglit of the lire may be reflected
from tlie mirror to its focus on the table — a per-
son standing at a distance toward the fire, but not
dirtictly in tlie line between tlie mirror and tiie
jfire, will see an image of the fire upon the table,
large and erect, as if the table had been set on
fire.

Various illusions and deceptions have been
produci-'d by means of concave mirrors. Pagan
prk'sts are supposed to have rekindled the Vestal
fire by this instrument; and with the same instru-
ment, on a large scale, Arcliimedes is reported to
have burned tiie Roman fleet. When the mirror
is concealed from tlie view of a spectator by cer-
tain contrivances, he may be easily deceived and
tantalized with a shadow instead of a substance.
He may be made to see a vessel half full of water
inverted in the air without losing a drop of its
contents. He may be desired to grasp what ap-
pears a beautiful flower, and, when he attempts
lo' touch it, it vanishes into air, or a death's-head
appears to snap at his fingers. He may be made
to behold a terrific specter suddenly starting up
before him, or a person with a drawn sword, as
if about to run him through. An exhibition of
this kind was sojne time ago brought before the
public, which was eft>.'cted by a concave mirror.
A man being placed with his head downward, in
the focus of the mirror, an erect image of him
was exhibited, while his real person was con-
cealed, and the place of the mirror darkened; the
spectators were then directed to take a plate of
fruit from his hand, which, in an instant was dex-
• trously changed for a dagger or some other deadly
weApon. — It may not be improper occasionally to
exhibit such deceptions to the young, and leave
them for some time to ruminate upon tliem
until the proper explanations be given, in order
to induce them to use their rational powers in re-
flecting on the subject, and particularlj? to teach
them to iu\"estigate the causes of every appear-
ance that may seem mysterious or inexplicable,
and not to ascribe to occult or supernatural causes
what may be explained by an investigation of the
established laws of nature ; and to guard them
against drawing rash or unfounded conclusions
from any subject or phenomenon which thej'^
Jiave not thoroughly explored, or do not fully
comprehend.

Having enlarged much farther than I original-
ly intended on the preceding departments of Nat-
ural Piulosophy,! have no space left for suggest-
ing any hints in relation to electricity, galvanism,
and magnetism. If the teacher is possessed of an
electiical machine and a galvanic apparatus, and
is acquainted with his subject, he has it in his
power to exhibit a great variety of very striking
experiments, which can never fail to arrest the at-
tention of the juvenile mind, and prepare it for
entering on explanations of some of the sublimest
phenomena of nature. But without these instru-
ments very few experiments of any degree of in-
terest can be performed in relation to these sub-
jects. The illustration of the phenomena of j/w/;-
7)e<iS?n requires no expensive apparatus. Two or
three small, and as many large bar magnets — a large
horseshoe magnet, a magnetic compass, and a few
needles, pieces of iron, and steel filings, may be sufii-
cientforillustrating the prominent facts in relation
to this department of philoso])hy. But as I have al-
ready thrown out a few hints on this subject in the
lesson on the Sagacious Swan,* it would be needless
to enlarge. — My only reason for suggesting the

CHEMISTRY. 9^

above hints and experinients is, to show that any
teacher, at a very small expense, may have it in
his power to illustrate, in a pleasing manner,
many of the most interesting and practical truths
connected with natural philosophy. Most of the
apparatus alluded to above coirid be procured for
two or three pounds, provided the experimenter
apply his hands and construct a portion of it him-
self, which he can easily do when the materiala
are provided. In regard to philosophical appara-
tus of every description, wef'e there a generitl de-
mand for it from all classes of the connnunity, it
might be alTorded for less than one-half the price
now charged for it, as certain portions of it might
be constructed of cheaper materials than are now
used ; as elegance in such instruments is not always
necessary for use; as competition would reduce
tlieir price to the lowest rate, and as there would
be no necessity for great profits when the manu-
facturers were certain of a quick and extensive sale.

CHEMISTRY. ^

• See page C2.

Chemistry, in its present improved state, is a sci-
ence so interesting and useful, so intimately con-
nected with the knowledge of nature, the improve-
ment of the useful arts, and with every branch of
physical and practical science, that an outline, at
least, of its leading principles and facts should be
communicated to all classes of the young. The
distinguishing properties of the simple substances,
such as oxygen, nitrogen, carbon, hydrogen, chlo-
rine, iodine, sulphur, and phosphorus — particu-
larly oxygen, nitrogen, carbon, and carbureted
hydrogen, should be minutely described, and illus-
trated by experiments, and their extensive influ-
ence in the system of nature particularly detailed.
Thelawsofchemical affinity, the natureand proper-
ties of /teaiits radiation and expansive power, and the
effects it produces on all bodies — the composition
and decomposition of water, the nature of crys-
tallization, the properties of earths, metals,- acids,
and alkalies, the nature of combustion, chem.ical
action and combinations, the component princi-
ples of animal and vegetable substances, and vari-
ous other particulars, may be impressed upon the
minds of the young, and rendered familiar by a va-
riety of simple experiments which can be easily
performed. IVfany of the most important and lu-
minous facts of this science may be exhibited by
the aid of a few Florence flasks, glass tubes, com-
mon vials, tumblers, wine and ale-glasses — of
which I intended exhibiting some specimens, had
my limits permitted. In the meantime I refer
the reader to Accum's volume entitled "Chemical
Amusements," which contains a perspicuous de-
scription of nearly two hundred interestingexper-
iments on this subject, with an explanation of the
rationale of each experiment. Griffin's Recreations
in Chemistry; Thomson's, Turner's, Parkes',
Graham's, and Donovan's treatises, or any other
modern system of chemistry, may also be consult-
ed.*

* Notwithstanding the numerous excellent treatises oo
nafnral philosophy and chemistry, which have been publish-
ed of late years, we have scarcely any books on these sub-
jects exacUy adapted for the use of schools. Blair's "Gram-
mar and Natural Philosophy," and "Conversations" on the
same subject by Mrs. Marcet, contain a comprehensive view
of the leading subjects of natural philosophy which may be
recommended to the perusal of young persons; but they are
scarcely adapted to the purpose of teaching. Dr. Comstock
of America, formerly mentioned (page 84), lately publish-
ed a "Pystem of Natural Philosophy," for tlie use of students
and preceptors, which has already passed thron!;b nine edi-
tions. This volume contains about 300 closely printed
pagres, and above 200 wood-cuts, and comprises a popular
and'scieniific illustration of the" Properties of Bodies, Me-
chanics, Hydrostatics, Hydraulics, Pneumatics, Acoustic*

9&

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND,
SECTION X.
Mathematics.

A KNOWLEDGE of Certain departmenls of tlie
maflieniatical sciences is essentially requisite for
uiuierslaiiiling many of the discussions and inves-
tigations connected with natural plnlosopliy, as-
tronomy, geography, and navigation, and for va-
rious practical purposes, in the mechanical arts;
and, consequently, ought to form a portion of
every course of general education. During tiic
first stages of elementary instruction, a knowledge
of the names and sonie of the properties of angles,
triangles, squares, parallelograms, trapezoids, trape-
ziuuk-^, circles, ellipses, parallels, perpendiculars,
and other geometrical lines and figures, may be
imparted, on different occasions, by way of amuse-
ment,as is generally done in infant schools, which
would prepare the way for entering on the regu-
lar study of mathematical science. The usual
method of teac' mg mathematics, is to commence
with -the ' iLi£ements of Euclid," proceeding
through .0 first six, and the eleventh and twelfth
books, and afterward directing the attention to
the elements of plane and spherical trigonometry,
conic sections, tluxions, and the liigher algebraic
equations, in which the attention of the student is
chiefly directed to the demonstration of matliemat-
ical propositions, without being much exercised
in practical calculations. This is the scientific
method of instruction generally pursued in colle-
ges and academies, and if youths of the age of four-
teen or fifteen were capable of the atiention and
abstraction of angelic beings, it would likewise be
the natural method. But a different method, I
presume, ought to be pursued in schools chiefly
devoted to popular instruction. After the pupil
has acquired a competent knowledge of arith.metic
let him be conducted through the different
branches oi practical yeometnj, including the men-
suration of surfaces, and solids, artificers' work
and land surveying, exhibiting occasionally a de-
monstration of some of the rules, in so far as he
is able to comprehend it. After which, a selec-
tion should be made from Euclid (chiefly from
the first book), of those propositions which have
a practical bearing, and which form the founda-
tion of practical geometry and the operations of
plane trigonometry. These, which might be com-
prehended within the limits of thirty or forty
propositions, should be arranged into a kind of
system, which might be divided into propositions,
relating to quadrilateral figures, triangles, circles,
and conic sections. The demonstrations of these
should be clear and explicit, and as s-impleasthe na-
ture of the subject will admit, and the steps of the de-
monstration ofeach proposition should be thorough-
ly understood before proceeding to another. At
the same time, the bearing of the truths demon-
strated upon the several practical operations of
geometry, and their general utility, should be
distinctly pointed out as the teacher proceeds in
hisdemonstrations; and the pupil, having previous-
ly been occupied in calculations relating to geo-
metrical figures, will be enabled to ff/;precic'/e such
demonstrations, and will feel a greater interest in
euch exercises than he would otherwise do, were
he to consider them as relating merely to abstract
truths which have no useful tendency. Hemicrht

Optics, Astronomy, Electricity, and Magnetism," with ques-
tions in the margin of every page for exercising tlie jaclgment
of the student. It is calculated for being an excellent text-
book in collefres and academies; bnt would require to be
•omewhat reduced and simplified, to adopt it to the nse of
common schools.

next proceed to the statements and calculations
connected with the different cases of plane trigo-
nometry, ajjjjlying them to the mensuration of
all the cases of terrestrial bights and distances,
and to the determining of the distances, and
magnitudes of the heavenly bodies and the alti-
tude of the lunar mountains.

This is the whole course of mathematical in-
struction I would deem it necessary to commu-
nicate in the first instance; — and, with a know-
ledge of the practical operations of geometry and
trigonometry, and of the principles on which they
are founded, the pupil would be enabled to under-
stand all the prominent parts of useful science to
which mathematical principles are applicable, and
to apply them to the practical purposes of life. If
he feel a pecidiar relish for mathematical investi-
gations, or if his situation or profession in future
life require an extensive knowledge of the higher
departments of this study, he can easily prosecute,
at his leisure, such studies to any extent, on the
foundation of what he had previously acquired.
When a young person, of the age of twelve or
fourteen, commences the study of "Euclid's Ele-
ments," or any similar work, he is at a loss to
conceive what useful purpose can be served by
fixing his mind on squares, parallelograms and
triangles, and pestering himself in demonstrating
their relations and proportions. After encounter-
ing some difficulties, he perhaps acquires a pretty
clear conception of the demonstrations of the first
and most simple propositions; but as he proceeds
in his course, the propositions become more com-
plex and difficult to be conceived, and the steps
of the demonstration more tedious and complica-
ted; he forgets the conclusions formerly deduced,
his mind becomes bewildered, and, in too many
instances, he follows his preceptor in the dark, re-
lying more on his authoritative assertions than on
a clear perception of the force of his demonstra-
tions; his ideas become confused, and he loses
all relish for the study, because he cannot perceive
the practical purposes to which such abstract
speculations can be applied. This, it may be af-
firmed, is the case with more than one-half of
those who attempt the study of pure mathematics
at an early age, without having previously been
exercised in the practical operations of the science.
It is for this reason I would recommend a short
course, or outline of practical geometry and
trigonometry before proceeding to the demonstra-
tion of theorems, or the more abstract parts of
mathematical science. So far as my experience
goes, I have uniformly found, that those who
had been well exercised in the different branches
of mensuration, and the practical parts of tngo-
nometry, previous to their entering on a course
of pure mathematics, have acquired a relish for
such studies, and become eminent proficients in
them; while their fellow students, who had no
previous experience in practical calculations, lag-
ged far behind them, and seldom entered into the
spirit of such subjects. I could point to several
individuals of this description, wlio ultimately at-
tained the highest mathematical prizes bestowe<J
at the colleges and academies at which they atteo'
ded.

SECTION XI.
Phvsiology.

This is a department of knowledge which has
never yet been introduced into any seminary, as »

PHYSIOLOGY.

99

branch of general education. It is somewhat un- i Tlie evils arising from ignorance of tlio corpo-
ftccountal)le, and not a little inconsistent, that, I real functions, and of the circumstances hy wliicb
while we direct the young to look abroad over the j they are impaired, arc numerous and much to be
Burfaceof thcearthandsurvcy itsmouutains,rivers, deplored. From ignorance of the structure and
seas, and conii'.ients, and guide their views to the j functions of the digestive organs, parents, in

regions of the tirmament, where they may cou-
tpmplate tlie moons of Jupiter, the rings of Saturn,
and thousands of luminaries placed at immeasura-
ble distances, — that, while we direct their attention
to the structure and habits of quadrupeds, birds,
fishes, and insects, and even to the microscopic
auimalcuhe in a drop of water — we should never
teach them to look into themselves, to consider
their own corporeal structures, the numerous
parts of wliich they are composed, the admirable
functions they perform, the wisdom and goodness
displayed in their mechanism, and the lessons of

many instances, allow their children to eat and
drink everything they, desire, and to gorge their
stomachs, until uiseased action of the organs con-
nected with digestion necessarily ensues, acconu-
panied with the other disorders whicdi generally
follow in its train. To the same cause is owing
ihe practice of administering to infants, cordials,
elixirs, laudanum, and spirituous liquors — a prac-
tice in which no person will indulge who is
acquainted with the laws which regulatp the
functions of the corporeal frame, and which has
a tendency not only to injure the individual, but

practical instruction which may be derived from to perpetuate a degenerated race through succes-

such contemplations. An intelligent writer in
the "'American Annals of Education," has justly
renoarked — " i'he person who should occupy a
dwelling seventy, eighty, or a hundred years, and
yet be unable to tell the number of its apartments,
or the nature and properties of any of its materials,
perhaps even the number of stories of which it
consisted — would be thought inexcusably igno-
rant. Yet, with the exception of medical men,
and here and there an individual belonging to the
other professions, is there one person in a tliou-
Band who knows anything about the elementary
materials — the structure or even the number of
apartments in the present habitation of his mind?"
It is not because tbis study is either uninterest-
ing or unaccompanied with mental gratification,
that it is so generally neglected; for to " Iciiotv
ourselves," both physically and intellectually, is
one of the first duties of man, and such know-
ledge has an extensive practical tendency, and is
calculated to gratify the principle of curiosity, and
to produce emotions of admiration and pleasure.
"Does it afibrd no pleasure," says the writer I
have now quoted, " to study the functions of the
etomach and liver, and other organs concerned in
changing a mass of beaten food, perhaps some of
tli8 coarser vegetables, into blood? — of the heart,
and arteries, and veins, which convey this tluid,
to the amount of three gallons, through all parts
of the body once in four minutes? — of the lungs,
which restore the half-spoiled blood to its wonted
purity, as fast as it is sent into them, and enable
it once more to pursue a healthful course through
its ten thousand channels? — of the brain,
and especially the nerves, which by their
innumerable branches spread themselves
over every soft part of the human sys-
tem (and some of the harder parts) which
they can possibly penetrate, in such num-
bers that we can nowhere insert the
point of the finest needle without pierc-
ing them? — of the skin, every square inch
of which contains the mouths or extre-
mities of a million of minute vessels? Is
all this, I say, uninteresting? Is there
no wisdom displayed in the construc-
tion of so complicated, and yet so won-
derful a machine, and endowing it with
the power of retaining an averasfe heat
of 96 or 98 degrees, whether the sur-
rounding atmosphere be heated to 100
degrees or cooled to ."^2, or even to a much low^er
point? Is there, moreover, no mental discipline
Involved in the study of physiology? " *

^ • Mr. Alcott, ".American Annals of Education," for Sep-
tember, 1833,— a journal which is conducted with admirable
ipirit by Mr. Woodbridge, which contains a variety of

sive generations. From ignorance of the nature
of perspiration, and the functions of the skin, chil-
dren are permitted to wallow in dirtiness and filth,
to remain moist, cold, and benumbed, and to pass
days and even \veeks without being washed or
receiving a change of linens; by which they are,
sooner or later, subjected to cutaneous and in-
flammatory disorders. Ignorance of this subject
has likewise led to those awkward attempts, parti-
cularly on the part of the female sex, to remodel
the human frame, as if they could improve the
mechanism and symmetry devised by Infinite
Wisdom. Hence the derangement of the physi-
cal system produced by laced stays, strait jackets,
corsets, and other absurd articles of dress, by which
the ribs are compressed, the spine bent out of its
place, and the free expansion of the lungs pre-
vented; the consequences of which are, — diseases
of the breast, shortness of breath, external callosi-
ties, defective digestion, tubercles of the lungs,
and a tendency to pulmonary consumption. The
annexed figures show how such unnatural prac-
tices tend to distort even the very hones, as well as
the muscular part of the body. They are taken
from No. 58, of the * Penny Magazine." Fig. 1,
is an outline of the celebrated statue of the Venus
de Wedicis, which is considered as the most beau-
tiful and symmetrical model of a fine female
figure. Fig. 2, is the skeleton of a similar figure,
with the bones in their natural position. Fig. 3,
is an outline of the figure of a modern fashionable
lady, after it has been permanently remodded by
stays. Fig. 4, is a skeleton belonging to such a

figure as No. 3. From these figures it appears
that the size of the chest belonging to figures 3

valuable communications, and much important statistical
information, respecting the improvements going forward in
Europe and America, in counection with the subject ai
education.

100

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

Fig. 3.

Fig: 4

and 4, is obviously much less than that of figures
1 and 2, and consequently, the parts which it
embraces must be unnaturally compressed, to the
injury of synnneti-y and beauty, as well as to the
impeding of the vital functions.

But it will naturally be asked, How shall we
find means to communicate a knowledge of phy-
siology in comiHon schools? A thorough know-
ledge "of tliis subject, such as a regular medical
practitioner requires, cannot be communicated in
such seminaries, nor would it be necessary, or
oven expedient, to make the attempt. Human
subjects could not be dissected before the eyes of
the young, nor would it be proper to accustom
tliem to witness such operations. A general
knowledge of the parts of the human frame, of
their relative positions, and of the functions they
perform in the animal system, is all that is re-
quisite to be imparted; and there are several modes
by which such a view of the mechanism of the hu-
man body may be exhibited. 1. It is well known
that the skill of the anatomist, combined with that
of the modeler, has enabled him to construct a
model or representation of the human system.
This model, which has been sometimes called a
77iffran!7i:i/?,orartiticial man, is formed with so much
skill and ingenuity as toexliiffit the principal veins
and arteries, the nerves, the muscles, the lungs,
liver, stomach, kidneys, and most other parts,
nearly as distinctly as they appear in the real hu-
man subject. Such a model, could it be procured,
would answer all the purposes of general instruc-
tion. The only valid objection that could be made
to its introduction would be, the expense with
which it would be necessarily attended. 2. An idea
of the form and position of those parts connected
with the .vital functions, which are contained
within the thorax and abdomen, may be obtained
by dissecting some of our domestic quadrupeds.
Although the mechanism of tb.ese animals is some-
what different from that of man, yet the organs
contained in the cavity of the breast and abdo-
men are essentially the same, though diiTering in
gorae minute particulars — are placed nearly in
the same relative positions, and perform the same
or similar functions as in the human system.
As hares, rabbits, and other quadrupeds are fre-
quently slaughtered for food, and as dogs and
cats sometimes require to be killed, opportunities
might be taken of dissecting such animals, and
showing the forms and positions of those parts
which most nearly resemble those of the human
subject. I recollect, when young, having received
my first clear ideas of the form and position of
the lungs, heart, liver, kidneys, stomach, &c.,
from the dissection of a cat, of which the anato-
mical figures I had in my power to inspect, could
afford no accurate or satisfactory conception. 3.
Dried preparations of certain parts of the human
body — portions of the muscular parts, such as the

heart, liver, &c., preserved In spirits—
skulls, and detached portions of the skele-
ton— might be occasionally procured,
which might serve for the illustration ef
particular functions. 4 Where such ob-
jects as the above cannot be procured,
some general and useful ideas on tliiu
subject may be communicated by means
oi large colored anatomical plates. These
are found necessary to accompany every
course of anatomical dissection; and, al-
though they cannot convey the same
accurate ideas which may be obtained by
a direct inspection of the human sub-
ject, yet none will deny tliat a very
considerable degree of useful informa-
tion may in this way be obtained, especially
with the assistance of a teacher who can explaiUj
with simplicity and clearness, the several organs
and functions of the animal system. Supposing
a person knew nothing of the internal parts of the
human body, it is evident, that, from such a figure

as the preceding, an idea might be obtained of
the relative situations of the lungs, the heart, the
diaphragm, the liver, the gall-bladder, the pan-
creas, the stomach, the kidneys, and various other
narts, and much more so from a variety of separate
figures delineated on a large scale, and colored
after nature. There would be no necessity for
exhibiting or describing any other parts or organs
but those which are common to both sexes, so
that there would be no room for objections on the
score of indelicacy. The female sex, however, aa
well as the male, ought to be instructed in this
science; for, as females have the piiysical educa-
tion of children more immediately under their
control, it is of vast importance to the human
race at large, that they should be endowed witli
that knowledge of the functions of the human
frame, which will enable them to conduct such
education with intelligence and discretion. There
is no department of science, moreover, in which
a pious and intelligent teacher has a better oppor-
tunity of directing the minds of his pupils to the
evidence of design, and of descanting on the wis-
dom and benevolence of the Creator, than when
describing the mechanism of tho human frame
In the various articulations of the bones, in the

SUBJECTS CONNECTED WITH LOGIC.

101

cauBtruction of the venous and arterial system, in
the process of respiration, in the circulation of the
blood, in the muscular and nervous systems, in
the motion of tlie heart, in the mechanism of tlie
eye and ear, in the construction of the spine, tlie
hand, the skull, and other parts of this admirable
machine, the Divine Wisdom and benevolence
shiue conspicuous; and, when clearly exliibited to
the young, must impress their minds with the
trntii that tiiey are, indeed, "fearjulbj and xoon-
derfullij made," and that they ought to consecrate
the temple of their bodies for "a habitation of
God thiough the Spirit."

One great practical end which should always
be kept in view ia the study of physiology, is the
Invigoration and improvement of the corporeal
powers and functions, the preservation of health,
and the prevention of disease. For this purpose
frequent instruction, illustrated by examples,
should be imparted in relation to diet and regimen.
The young should be instructed in the laws of
the animal economy, and the sources of diseases;
tlie practices which induce certain disorders, and
the means of counteracting them; the functions
of the skin, lungs, stomach, and bowels; the na-
ture and importance of insensible perspiration, the
means of regulating it, and the evils which flow
from its obstruction; the rules which should be ob-
served in bathing and swimming; the importance
of pure atmosphe'-ic air to the health and vigor
of the animal system, the circumstances by
which it is deteriorated, and the means by which
its purity may be preserved ; the necessity of
cleanliness, in respect to the hands, face, neck,
and other parts of the body, and to the clothes,
linens, blankets, sheets, and household furniture,
and the rules which should be attended to for pre-
serving the person and dwelling from filth and
noxious efiluvia ; the articles most proper for
dress, and the mode of constructing it so as not
to impede the vital functions; the proper use of
food and drink, and especially the moral and
physical evils which flow from intemperance, and
the frequent use of ardent spirits; the exercise and
rest requisite for body and mind, the means by
which they may be duly proportioned, and the
evils which arise from immoderate exertion either
of the mental or corporeal powers;* the improve-
rnent of the organs of sensation, particularly the
organs of vision, and the treatment requisite for
preserving them in health and vigor. Instruc-
tions on these and similar topics, when occasion-
ally illustrated by striking facts and examples,
could scarcely fail to exert a powerful and bene-
ficial influence on the minds of the young, on
the families with which they are connected, on
society at large, and even on succeeding genera-
tions. That such information has never yet been
regularly communicated in our schools and semi-
• naries, reflects disgrace on our scholastic arrange-
ments, which are frequently directed to objects
of far inferior importance. Until such instruc-
tions be generally communicated, in connection
with other portions of useful knowledge, man
will never rise to the highest dignity of his
physical and intellectual nature, nor enjoy the
happiness of which he is susceptible even in the
present state.

SECTION XII.

Logic, or the art of reasoning.

Logic may be defined to be " that art or branch
of knowledge which has for its object the investiga-

See Appendii.

Hon ofituth, and the best method of communicat-
ing it to others;" or, in other words, tlie art of em-
ploying our rational faculties in the best manner
in searching after truth and duly on any suijject.
Although all men have essentially the same men-
tal faculties, yet there is a great difference ill
respect to the vigor of these facuhics in dilfcreut
individuals, according to the improvement tliey
have received, and the objects to which they h;ive
been directed. The improvement of the reasoiiiiig
powers, and the manner in which they have h'f.-a.
exercised by the wise and learned in Europe,
America, and other parts of the civilized World,
have raised them almost as high in the scale of
intelligence above the liotlentois, the African
negroes, or the inhabitants of New Holland or
Nootka Sound, as those savages are superior to
the beasts of the forest pr the fowls of heaven.
TJie acquisition of truth, in relation to all those
subjects which are connected with the present
and future happiness of man, is obviously a mat-
ter of the highest importance. By the proper
application of our reasoning faculty we become
acquainted with the properties and relations of the
objects around us in this lower world, and the dis-
tances, magnitudes, and real motions of the celes-
tial bodies, and the purposes for which they ap-
pear to hav^ been created. By the same means
we acquire a knowledge of the perfections of
God, the principles of Natural Religion, the
Evidences of Divine Revelation, the improve-
ments of art, and the discoveries of scisnce. By
the cultivation of reason we discover our duty to
God and to our fellow-creatures, either from the
light of nature, or from the study of Revelation,
and learn to distinguish truth from falsehood, and
good from evil; and to apply the truths we thus
acquire to the direction of our moral conduct, to
the promotion 'of human happiness, and to the
invigorating of our hopes of eternal felicity.

It is therefore a matter of considerable impor-
tance, that, at an early period, the reasoning
powers of the young be directed, both by precepts
and examples, in their inquiries after truth, and
guarded from the influence of false principles and
fallacious reasonings, by which errors have been
propagated, prejudices promoted, truth obscured,
and the improvement of the human race pre-
vented.— Were this subject to be illustrated in all
its extent, it would be requisite, in the first place,
to give a description and analysis of tlie intellec-
tual powers, which are the means or instruments
by which we are to pursue our discovery after
truth. In the second place, to exhibii an arrange-
ment and classification of the objects in nature to
which these powers are applied. In the third
place, to illustrate the most successful method of
applying our natural powers in the investigation
of truth; and lastly, to explain the best method
of communicating the truth to others, when'dis-
covered. Under the first head, it would be
requisite to enter into the discussion of the facul-
ties of sensation and perceptioji, attention, con-
sciousness, memory, conception, abstraction, im-
agination, judgment, taste, the moral faculty, and
other powers; or, according to the phrenological
system, tlie knowing and reflecting faculties, the
moral sentiments, and the animal propensities —
which may be considered as so many different
modes of the operation of mind. Under the
second, a brief view might be given of the pecu-
liar characteristics of mind and matter, and a
more particular survey of the sciences, or the
knowledge which men have acquired respectiitg
the objects of human thought, which might be
arranged under the three following heads: — L

102

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

History, comprehending sacred, prophetic, and
ecclesiastical liistory; Hterary history, including
the history of philosophy and the arts; civil his-
tory, iacludina: particular history, general history,
memoirs, antiquities, and biogra[)hy; also, geogra-
phy .and chronology, which have been denominat-
ed "the Ei/ts of history; natural history, including
mineralogy, botany, and general zoology, meteo-
rology, geology, and the facts which relate to the
lieavcniy bodies. — 2. Philosophy, including onto-
logy, the mathematical sciences, pure and mixed;
natural and revealed theology, rsthrtics, or the
science of our feelings and emotions ; ethics,
logic, political economy ami legislation; natural
pliilosophy, chemistry, physical astronomy, medi-
cine, the physiology of plants, human and com-
parative anatomy, &.c. — 3. Art, including the
fine arts, as poetry, oratory, painting, architec-
ture, gardening, &,c.; the liberal arts, as practical
logic, practical geometry, practical chemistry,
surgery, &,c.;and the iiwchaiiical arts, as dyeing,
weaving, clock and watch making, &c. Under
the third head might be illustrated the different
kinds of evidence, as the evidence of intellection,
of sense, of testimony, of analogy, &,c., and the
means by which evidence on any subject may be
most successfully obtained; which would include
a discussion of the modes of reasoning by syllo-
gism, induction, analysis, and synthesis — of the
sources of error, and of the dispositions and cir-
eunistances among mankind from which errors
and fallacious reasonings arise — a subject which
would require to be illustrated with considerable
minuteness from the. facts of history, and the cir-
cumstances which exist in the present state of
tlie human race. Under the fourth head might be
included — 1. A general view of the different
means, which men have employed for communi-
cating their thoughts to each other. — 2. An ex-
planation of the nature of arbitrary signs, and
the principles of universal grammar. — .3. An
enumeration and description of the different
qualities of style, and the best method of con-
structing a discourse on any subject.

To a class of young persons, about the age of
fifteen or sixteen, a popular illustration of some
of the above topics might be attended with many
beneficial effects, particularly in inducing upon
them habits of reasoning and reflection, and guard-
ing them against the influence of prejudices, and
sophistical arguments and reasonings. Although
it would evidently be injudicious and premature
to attempt such discussions in primary schools,
yet a judicious teacher, well acquainted with the
science of mind and the nature of evidence, might
occasionally illustrate certain parts of this subject,
particularly in teaching the young to reason with
propriety on any familiar objects or incidents with
which they are acquainted. It may be laid down
as an axiom, that from the earliest dawn of reason
children should be accustomed to exercise their rea-
soning faridty on every object to which their atten-
tion vi directed, and taught to assi(pi a reason for
every opinion they adopt, and every action they per-
form. Without troubling them with explanations
of the various forms and moods of syllogisms, they
may be taught the nature of reasoning, and the
force of arguments, by familiar examples taken
from sensible objects with which they are in some
measure acquainted. Logicians define reasoning
to be that poicrr which enables us, by the interven-
tion of intermediate ideas, to perceive the relation of
two ideas, or their agreement or disagreement. This
might be illustrated to the y )ung, by such ex-
amples as the following: — Suppose there are two
tables, A and B, which cannot be applied to each

other, and we wish to know whether A bo longa?
or shorter than B; we endeavor to find an "inter-
mediate idea," or measure, namely, a three-feet
rule, and apply it, first to table A, and then to
table B. We find that A measures thirty-six
inches, coinciding exactly with tlie three-feet rule,
and that B measures only thirty- four inches, there-
fore, the inference or conclusion, at which we
wished to arrive, is evident, that table A is longei
than table B. Again, suppose we would know
wliether the space contained in the triangle C, be
equal to, or greater or less than that contained in
the circle E ; we cannot apply these figures to

each other, in order to determine this point; we
must therefore search for an intermediate idea
which will apply to both. We fix on a square —
a square foot for example, and from the length of
the base, E F, and the perpendicular F G, in the
triangle C, we find the number of square feet to
be IGi). Having the length of the diameter of the
circle H I, we find that there are likewise 160
square feet contained within its circumference;
and therefore the conclusion is evident, that the
space contained within the triangle C is equal to
that contained in the circle E. This example,
reduced to the form of a syllogism, would stand
thus: Any two figures which contain the same
number of square feet are equal to one another;
but the triangle C contains the same number of
square feet as the circle E ; therefore the space
contained in the triangle C is equal to the space
contained within the circle E.

Again, the sun appears to be only a few inches
in diameter, and as flat as the face of a clock or
a plate of silver. Suppose it were inquired how
we may determine that the sun is much larger
than he appears to be, and whether his surface be
flat, or convex, or of any other figure, the pupil
may be requested to search for intermediate ideas,
by which these points may be determined. One
idea or principle, which experience proves, re-
quires to be recognized, that all objects appear less
in size, in proportion to their distance from the ob-
server. A large building, at the distance of
twenty miles, appears to the naked eye only like
a visible point; and a dog, a horse, or a man, are,
at such a distance, altogether invisible. We find,
by experience, that when the sun has just risen
above the horizon in the morning, he appears as
large as he does when on our meridian at noon-
day ;but it can be proved, that he is then nearly 4000
miles (or the half diameter of the earth) nearer to
us than when he arose in the morning; therefore,
the sun must be at a greater distance from us, at
least several thousands of miles, otherwise he
would appear much larger in the one case than in
the other, just as a house or a town appears much
larger when we approach within a mile of it than
it does at the distance of eight or ten miles. It is
known that the inhabitants of Great Britain, and
those who live about the Cape of Good Hope, can
see the sun at the same moment; and that he ap-
pears no larger to the one than to the other,
though they are distant in a straight line more
than 5000 miles from each other We also know,
from experience, that when we remove fifty or a
hundred miles to the west of our usual place of

POPULAR LOGIC.

103

residenoe, the sun appears, at his rising;, jvist as
I&rge as he did hel'ore; and though we are removed
bom our friends several hundreds or even thou-
sands of miles, they will tell us that llie sun uni-
formly appears of the same size, at the same moment
as lie does to us. From these and similur consi-
derations, it appears, that the sun must be at a
very considerable distance from the earth, and
consequently his real magnitude must be much
greater than his apparent, since all bodies appear
less in size in proportion to their distance. If the
distance of the sun were only 4000 miles from the
earth, he would appear twice as large when he
came to the meridian, as he did at his rising in
the east; if his distance were only 100,000 miles,
he would a[)pear -ij'j- part broader when on the
meridian than at his rising — but this is not found
to be the case; consequently, the sun is more than
100,000 miles distant, and therefore must be of a
very large size. Supposing him no farther dis-
tant than 100,000 miles, he behooved to be near-
ly a thousand miles in diameter, or about the size
of Arabia, or the United States of America.

To determine whether the sun he flat or convex,
we must call in to our assistance the following
ideas. Every round body tvhich revolves around
an axis, perpendicular to the line of vision, without
altering its figure or apparent dimensions, is of a .
convex or globular shape; — and, Every object which
appears of a circular shape near the center of such a
body, will assume an oval or elliptical form when it
a/jproachcs near its margin. This might be illus-
trated by fi.ving a circular patch on a terrestrial
globe, and turning it round until it appear near
the margin. By means of the telescope, it is
found that there are occasionally spots upon the
sun, which appear first at the eastern limb, and,
in the course of 'about 13 days, approach the
western limb, where they disappear, and, in the
course of another 13 days, reappear on the eastern
limb; which shows that the sun revolves round an
axis without altering his shape. It is also ob-
eervcd that a spot, which appears nearly circular
at his center, presents an oval figure when near
nis margin. Consequently the sun is not a flat
surface, as he appears at first sight, but a globular
body. — Again, suppose it was required to deter-
mine whether the sun or the m»on be nearest the
earth. The intermediate idea which requires to
be recognized in thiscase is the following. Every
body which throws a shadow on another is nearer
the body on which the shadow falls than the luminous
body which is the cause of the shadow. In an eclipse
of the sun. the body of the moon projects a sha-
dow upon the earth, by whicli either the whole or
a portion of the sun's body is hid from our view.
Consequently, the moon is interposed between us
and the sun, and therefore is nearer to the earth
than that luminary. This might be illustrated to
the young by a candle, and two balls, the one re-
presenting the moon, and the other the earth,
placed in a direct line from the candle. — In like
manner, were it required, when the moon is
eclipsed, to ascertain whether at that time tlie
earth or tbe moon be nearest to the sun, it might
be determined by the same process of reasoning;
and, on the same principle, it is determined that
the planets Mercury and Venus, when tliey transit
the sun's disc, are, in that part of their orbits,
nearer the earth than the sun is.

Such reasonings as the above miglit be fami-
liarly explained, and, in some cases, illustrated
by experiments; and the pupil occasionally re-
quested toputthe arguments into the form of a sj'l-
logism. The reasoning respecting the bulk of the
«un may be put into the following syllogistic form:

All objects appear diminished in size. in pro-
portion to their distances.

The sun is proved to be many thousands ot
miles distant, and consequently, diminished in
apparent size.

Therefore the sun is much larger in reality
than what he appears.

The two first propositions are generally de-
nominated the premises. The first is called the
major proposition, the second the minor proposi-
tion. If the major proposition be doubtful, it
requires to be proved by separate arguments or
considerations. In the above example, it may be
proved, or rather illustrated, to the young, by
experiment — such as placing a 12-inch globe, or
any similar body, at the distance of half a mile,
when it will appear reduced almost to a pi,.v»t.
If the minor or second proposition be doubtful, it
must likewise be proved by such considerations
as suggested above; or by a strictly inathenuitical
demonstration, if the pupils are capable of under-
standing it. But, in ihe present case, the argu-
ments above stated are quite sufficient to prove
the point intended. When the premises are clearly
proved, the conclusion follows as a matter of
course. Similar examples of reasoning may be
njultiplied to an almost indefinite extent, and, in
the exercise of instructing the young, they
should always be taken from sensible objects with
which they are acquainted.

As it would be quite preposterous to attempt
instructing young persons, under the age of
twelve or thirteen, in the abstract systems of
logic generally taught in our universities — it is
quite sufficient for all the practical purposes of
human life and of science, that they be daily ac-
customed to employ their reasoning powers, on
the various physical, intellectual, and moral ob-
jects and circumstances which may be presented
before them; and an enlightened and judicious
teacher will seldom be at a loss to direct their
attention to exercises of this kind. The objects
of nature around them, the processes of art, the
circumstances and exercises connected with their
scholastic instruction, their games and amuse-
ments, the manner in which they conduct them-
selves toward each other, their practices in the
streets or on the highways, and tlic general tenor
of their moral conduct, will never fail to supply
topics for the exercise of their rational faculties,
and for the improvement of their moral powers. In
particular they should be accustomed, on all occa-
sions, to assign a reason for every fact they admit,
and every truth tliey profess to believe. If, for ex-
ample, they assert, on the ground of what they
read in books, or on the authority of their teachers,
that " the earth is round like an artificial globe,"
they should be required to bring forward the
proofs by which this position is supported, so that
their knowledge may be the result, not of author-
ity, but of conviction. In like manner, when they
profess to believe that the earth moves round its
axis and round the sun — that the atmosphere
presses with a weight of fifteen pounds on every
square inch of the earth's surface — tliat a magnet
will stand in a direction nearly north and south —
that water presses upward as well as downward-^
that it is our duty and interest to obey the laws
of God — that we ought to exercise justice betweou
man and man — and that children should obey
their parents and teachers, — they should be taught
to bring forward, when required, those experi-
ments, arguments, and reasonings, by which such
truths ar^ proved and supported.

As an illustration of some of the modes of
reasoning to which I allude, the following siory

104

ON THE MORAL DIPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

respecliog the celebrated French philosoplier,
Gassendi, may be liere introduced. . From his
earliest years lie was particulurly attentive to all
tliat he "heard in conversation, and was fond of
contemplating the scenes of nature, particularly
tlie magnificence of a starry sky. When only
seven years old, he felt a secret charm in the con-
templation of the stars, and, without the know-
le.ige of his parents, he sacrificed his sleep to this

[)Ieasurc. One evening a dispute arose between
liin and his young companions, about the motion
of the moon, and that of the cloiuls when they
happened to be impelled by a brisk wind. His
friends insisted that the clouds were still, and that
it was the moon which moved. He maintained,
on the contrary, that the moon had no sensible
motion, such as they imagined, and that it was
the clouds which appeared to pass so swiftly. His
reasons produced no effect on the minds of the
children, who trusted to their own eyes rather
than to anything that could be said on the sub-
ject. It was, therefore, necessary to undeceive
.them by means of their eyes. For this purpose
Gassendi took them under a tree, and made them
observe that the moon still appeared between the
same leaves and branches, while the clouds sailed
far away out of sight. This exhibition, of course,
was convincing, and at once settled the dispute.

Tiie principle, or " intermediate idea," which
Gassendi recognized, in this case, for proving his
position, was the following, although he'could not

Gassendi demonstrating the motions of the clouds.

at that time express it in words: — When motion
appears in the case of two bodies, ice ascertain
which is the moving body, by causing one of them
to appear in a straight line v;iih an object u-hich is
known to be fixed. This principle is of conside-
rable practical utility. By means of it we ascer-
tain, when we see a number of ships in a river,
or narrow arm of the sea, which of them are in
motion or at rect, by comparing their positions or
motions with a fi.xed point on the opposite shore.
W-hen looking at the wheels, pinions, and other
parts of a piece of macliinery, we can, on the
same principle, perceive which parts are in motion
and which are at rest, which the eye at first view can-
not determine; and, in the same way, the real and
apparent motions of the planets in tlie heavens are
ascertained, by comparing them with the position of
the stars, which may be regarded as so many fixed
points for directing the astronomer in his investi-
gations. The principle above stated, therefore,

was the major proposition in Gassendi's reasoning,
and the minor proposition was the following: —
"When we bring a tree, which is a lixed object,
in a direct line between our eye and the moon,
she appears for a few seconds to have no sensible
motion, while the clouds have passed away."
Therefore the conclusion follows, that "the motion
which was the object of dispute was not in the
moon, but in the clouds."

Subjects might occasionally be prescribed in
schools, for the purpose of exercising the reason-
ing powers of the young, and proving the truth
of certain positions. Suppose it were proposed as
an exercise, to prove that air exists, although it can'
not be seen, — a certain time might be allowed for
everyone to think and to converse on the subject,
when some one or other of the following proofs,
though in different words, would probably be sta-
ted. 1. Take a rod, and make it pass rapidly
"through what appears empty space, and you will
hear a sound and feel a slight resistance. 2. Take
a large fan or umbrella, and push it forcibly from
you, and j'ou will feel a considerable resistance,
and hear a sound, and a person opposite will feel
a certain impression made on his face. 3. Take
a very large umbrella, and stand on the top of a
stair or building, 15 or 20 feet high, and you may
jump from such a position, while holding it
stretched, and gradually descend to the ground
without injury. 4. Plunge a glass jar into a
vessel of water, with its mouth downward, and
only a very small quantity of water will enter the
glass,, which shows that there is something in the
glass which excludes the v/ater; and this is the
reason why we cannot fill a vessel with water by
plunging its orifice downward. 5. Take a smooth
cylindrical tube, shut at one end, and fit a plug
exactly to its open end, and no force whatever
can push it to the bottom of the tube, which
shows that there is some invisible substance that
prevents it. 6. Open a pair of common bellows,
and shut up the nozzle and valve-hole, and it will
be impossible to bring the boards together, in
consequence of the resistance of an invisible sub-
stance within. 7. Take a telescope, of a high
magnifying power, and look through it to distant
objects, in the forenoon of a hot summer-day, and
you will see the air undulating about the objects
like the waves of the sea! All which circum-
stances show that there is a material, though hu
visible substance around us, which resists a force,
produces a sound, excludes other bodies from occu-
pying the same space, and whose undulations, in
certain circumstances, may be rendered visible.

Again, suppose it were required to prove the
following position, that "it is highly expedient
that the whole community should enjoy the bene-
fits of an intellectual and religious education,"
such arguments as the following might be brought
forward. 1. Such an education invigorates the
faculties and enlarges the capacity of the mind.
2. It presents to the view objects of delightful
contemplation, which exercise the rational powers,
and contribute to the happiness of the individual
.3. It prepares the young for acting an honorable
and upright part in society. 4. It qualifies tliem
for the several professions in which they may
afterward be employed. 5. It tends to undermine
foolish and superstitious notions, and to prevent
diseases and fatal accidents. 6. It prepares the
mind for a rational contemplation of the worka
of God, and of his perfections as therein dis-
played. 7. It fits them for taking a part in the
elective franchise of their country. 8. It pre-
pares them for understanding the Scriptures, and
for receiving profit by their attendance on th»

SOURCES OF ERROR IN REASONING.

105

ordinances of religion. 9. It qualifies them for
advancing the cause of usi-ful knowledge, and for
proirioting the reformation and improvement of
their species. 10. It tends to the i)revention of
intemperance, tumults, crimes, and all tiiosc vices
and evils which result from ignorance; and leads
to the practice of the Christian virtues. 11. It
prepares the soul for the employments and the
felicity of the heavcniv world, &c. — Again, sup-
pose tlie question, " Is it tlie duty and interest of
all men to love one another?" to be given as an
exercise of thought and reasoning. Indepen-
dently of the positive command of God, in rela-
tion to this duty, such considerations and argu-
ments as the following might be brought forward.
Men ought to love one another — 1. Because they
are all brethren of the same' family, descended
from the same original pair, and formed by the
same Almighty Parent. 2. They are possessed
of the same bodily organization, and the same
moral and intellectual powers. .3. They are sub-
ject to the same wants and afflictions, and suscep-
tible of the same pleasures and enjoyments. 4.
They inhabit the same world, and breathe the
same atmosphere. 5. They are dependent upon
each other for their comforts, and connected by
numerous ties and relations. 6. To all of them
God distributes his bounty, without respect of
persons, causing his sun to cheer and enlighten
them, and his rains to descend and fructify their
fields. 7. Thefj' are all animated with immortal
spirits, and destined to an eternal existence. 8.
The exercise of kindness and affection would
Unite, in one harmonious society, men of all
nations, and diffuse happiness through the heart
of every human being. 9. It would promote the
universal practice of equity and justice between
man and man, and prevent all those litigations,
contentions, and animosities, which have so long
disturbed and demoralized the world. 10. It
Would "turn wars into peace to the ends of the
earth," and promote a delightful intercourse be-
tween all the kindreds and tribes of human
beings, wherever dispersed over the surface of the
globe, &c.

In prescribing such exercises as the^above, the
teacher would require, in. the tirst instance, to
suggest some of the leading arguments, in order
tJiat the pupils may perceive the nature of the
mental process in which they are called to engage;
and when they had leisure to think on the subject,
some of them would doubtless bring forward
some proofs or considerations of their own,
though perhaps expressed in homely language.
At any rate, an exercise of this kind, prescriljed
once or twice every week, could scarcely fail to
sharpen the faculties of the young, to induce
habits of rational thinking, and to promote both
their moral and intellectual improvement.

It would likewise be of considerable utility to
set before them the springs of false judijment, or
the sources of error — the false conclusions which
arise from prejudices, or preconceived opinions —
the nature of sophistical reasonings, and the means
of guarding against their influence. The follow-
ing are specimens of the ])rejndices to which I
allude: — 1. We are apt to judge of persons or things
merely from their external appearance. A jiicture
of no value, daubed with Ijright and glaring
colors, is frequently admired lay the vulgar eye;
and a worthless book, splendidly printed and
adorned with flashy engravings and elegant bind-
ing, is prized and extolled by a superficial thinker.
From such a prejudice we are apt to conclude
that a man is happy who is encircled with wealth
and splendor, and that he who is covered with

coarse or ragged garments has neither knowledge
nor Comfort, and is unworthy of our regard.
Hence the Jews rejected the Saviour of the world,
and the Corinthians despised the Apostle Paul. —

2. Another prejudice arises from not viewing an
object on all sides — not considering all the circum-
stances connected unth it, and not comparing all the
aspects in ichich it may be contemplated. Thus,
when we view a cone placed at a great distance from
the eye, we are apt to imagine it a plain triangle;
and if its base were placed at right angles to the
line of vision, we should conclude that it was
nothing else but a plain circle. Thus, a round
plate, when placed obliquely at a considerable
distance from the eye, appears as an ocal; and
with its edge turned toward us, as a line. Thus,
the sun and moon, though globular bodies, ajjpear
Jiat to the naked eye. Thus, the rings of Saturn
appear sometimes like narrow, and sometimes liko
broad ellipses, sometimes like straight lines, and
sometimes like a narrow shade; so that a compa-
rison of all these different aspects was necessary
before it could be inferred that these singular phe-
nomena were in reality rings. Hence, at their
first discovery by the telescope, they were consi-
dered as two small globes attached to the plahet. — ■

3. Another source of error arises from the impres-
sions made on the mind in infancy, and from not
comparing the intimations given by one sense with
those of another. Children are apt to imagine that
books are unpleasant things, and that learning
and religion are drudgeries, when they have been
driven to such tasks by the force of the scourge.
They imagine the sky touches the distant hills,
and that the stars are not risen until the sun be
set. From this source we are apt to conclude
that the air has no weight, because we do not feel
its pressure; that the earth is at rest because we
do not feel its motion,- tliat the planets and stars
are only a few miles distant; and that a vessel at
anchor is in motion when we pass her swiftly,
when sailing in a steamboat. — 4. Our disposition
to account jhr everything on one or two principles.
To this cause may be ascribed the disposition of
some late philosophers to account for almost
every phenomenon on the principle of electricitij.
Having traced its agency in producing tliunder
and lightning, they went so far as to attribute to
its sole operation the phenomena of earthquakes,
volcanoes, v/inds, rain, and even the various fluc-
tuations of the animal spirits. To form a world,
Epicurus required only a mass of hooked atoms
moving in a certain manner; and Des Cartes,
from observing that light bodies were moved
round in a whirlwind, formed the idea of an im-
mense vortex, or wliiripool in tlie heavens, to ac-
count for the motion of the planets round the sun.

5. The passions and affections lead to numerous
sources of error. Love induces a mother to think
her own child the fairest and the best. Intense
hope and desire make a few days as long as so
many weeks. The fear of the torture, of the
galleys, or of a painful death, has induced multi-
tudes to believe the grossest absurdities of the
Romish church. Envy misrepresents the condi-
tion and character of our neighbor, and makes us
believe that he is much worse than he really is.
Above all, self-interest induces many to swallow
almost any opinion, and to vindicate every prac-
tice, however corrupt and absurd. Hence the
most glaring abuses in church and state have been
vindicated, in the most barefaced manner, by
those who derive their emoluments from a system
of corruption. It is from a spirit of selfishness,
too, that we set up our own opinions in religion
and philosophy as the tests of orthodoxy and

106

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

truth; auc] from.tlip sumo principle has arisen the
antichristiuu practice of fiersecidv)n — a practice as
unreasonable as ttiat of tiic tj-rant, wlio, liaving
a bed exactly fitted to his own size, strelclied
men of low stature on the rack until they were
drawn out to the length of his hed, and cut a
portion of the legs oft' any one whom he foujid
too long for it. Who ever had recourse to vio-
lence and torture to prove the trutiis of ycntupiry?
— 6. Our disposition to rely on the authority of others.
We are apt, without sufiicieiit inquiry, to rely on
everytiiing we have been taught by our parents
and teachers. An author of great respectability
frequently drags thousands into mistakes and
erroneous theories, merely by the splendor and
authority of his name. For more than a thou-
sand years the philosophers and divines of Europe
•were led into many egregious errors by a reliance
on the authority of Aristotle; a quoUition from
his writings was considered as a proof of any po-
sition, and useful discoveries were long rejected
because they did not quadrate with the opinions
of the Grecian philosopher. Luther, Calvin, and
Knox were pious men and eminent reformers,
and their peculiar opinions are not unfrequently
imbibed by their followers, merely on the author-
ity of their names. This is an error into which
those are apt to fall who never apply their powers
to rational investigations, and who are too indo-
lent to think for themselves.

The above and similar sources of error might
be illustrated to the young by numerous examples
and circumstances; and rules and cautions given
by' which they might be enabled to guard against
their pernicious influence in the sciences, in reli-
gion, in politics, and in the ordinary atFuirs of life.
A brief view might likewise be given of the doc-
trine of Sophisms, and the means by which they
may be detected; of which the following are speci-
mens:— 1. Accounting for a phenomenon or fact by
assir/ning a false cause, or taking an accidental con-
junction of things {or a. necessary connection. We
fall into this error, when from an accidentwe infer a
property, when from an example we infer a rule,
when from a single actwe infer a.habit. Astrologers
commit this error when they deduce the cause of the
various events in the lives of men from the differ-
ent aspects of the stars and planets. We reason on
this sophism when we construe the appearance
of a comet or an eclipse of the sun as predicting
the fate of princes, the revolution of nations, or
the infliction of pestilence or famine; or when it
rains at the new or full moon, and we infer that
the moon is the cause of it; or when a person is
in misery or distress, and we cor.clude that he
must needs be a heinous sinner. — 2. When we
draw a conclusion from a premise ichich is only true
by accident. We fall into this error when we
reason against anything because of the wrong use
which has been made of it; as when we reason
against printing, because it has sometimes been
employed for raising sedition and promoting im-
morality; against reading the Bible, because it has
Bometimes led to heresy ; against Christianity,
because it has been the accidental occasion of
contentions and persecutions, which do not flow
from the Gospel, but are mere accidental circum-
stances, with which it has been sometimes attend-
ed. Other sophisms are such as the following:
Mistaking the question or point to be proved —
the Petitio Principii, or begging the question — im-
perfect enumeration — reasoning in a circle — con-
cluding from what is true of a thing in its divided
state, as if it were true in its compound state —
ambiguity of words, and using them in different
senses — with several others.

Of all the species of false reasonings, there is
none more common than that of introducing
into an argument propositions that are either falsa
or doubtful, or taking for granted facts which
have never been satisfactorily ascertained. In
this way a false conclusion may be legitimately
deduced, after such facts or propositions are ad-
mitted. Against this fallacious mode of reason-
ing tlie young should be curcfully guarded, both
in their own reasonings, and when listening te
those of others; and habituated to scan every
proposition or assertion, and ascertain its truth
before admitting it into any chain of argument.
In the speeches that were lately delivered in par-
liament in opposition to the Reform Bill, this
species of reasoning was one distinguishing char-
acteristic, when those orations had any show of
argument. Fictions were brought forward as
facts, vague and unfounded assertions were ut-
tered with all the pomp of confidence and au-
thority, and the idea of revolution, in its most
horrid aspect, was substituted in place of salutary
reformation, so that the haranguer would jiave re-
quired to have been stopped at almost every other
sentence, until Ire had substantiated tiie' truth of
his premises. Such, however, is not unfrequently
the way in which our representatives in parlia-
ment, the members of our corporations, and vast
assemblages of our citizens at public meetings, are
hurried along by a bold and impudent declaimer,
and induced to cheer the sophister'who is leading
them on to the admission of a falsehood, and to
the approbation of measures subversive of human
improvement.

It is therefore of vast importance to society,
that the young be early trained to the proper uso
of their rational faculties — that they be accus-
tomed to entertain clear and well-defined ideas on
every subject — that they be enabled to appreciate
the strength or weakness of arguments — that they
feel the importance of prosecuting truth and
duty in every department of learning — and that
frequent exercises on important subjects be pre-
scribed for stimulating their reasoning powers.
It is lamentable to reflect on the deficiency and
weakness of the great mass of mankind in this
respect. On the most trifling grounds they will
yield their assent to hundreds of propositions,
most of which they do not understand. They
will obstinately adhere to their preconceived
opinions in the face of the strongest and most
convincing arguments. They will swallow, with-
out the least hesitation, the most absurd and
extravagant notions; while all the reasoning wb
can bring forward vpill not convince them of the
reality of truths and facts which have been clearly
demonstrated. So wedded are they to the opin-
ions they had first imbibed, that we might almost
as soon attempt to teach a snail or a tortoise the
truths of geometry as convince them that the
earth turns round its axis, and that it is possible
to determine the exact distance of the moon;
while, at the same time, they will talk, with the
utmost assurance, of the most abstruse mysteries
which lie beyond the reach of the human under-
standing. This representation does not apply
merely to the lower, but even to many in the
higher ranks of society; and such a state of
things has been productive of many injurious
effects, in relation to the best interests of man-
kind. It has been the cause of most of the wara
and commotions which have desolated the earth,
and of the prevalence of those systems of tyran-
ny, slavery, and injustice, which still so generally
prevail. It has led to all the persecutions that
have ever disgraced the church or the world. Jt

SUBJECTS OF NATURAL THEOLOGY.

107

has produced Inuidrecls of foolish controversies in
the visible church, eilher with respect to cam-
paratively trilling ojiinions, or to' those subjects
which lio beyond tlie grasp of tlie facuUies of
man; and has dissi-vered Cliristian society into a
number of discordant sectaries. It lias prevented
tlie improvement and happiness of the human
race, and is the cause of all the ignorance, pre-
judices, intemperance, and vice, which appear
among all ranks of society; for if men were to
cultivate tlieir intellectual powers aright, and
opj)!y thcni to i-aliouai purposes, few or none of
tliese evils would abound iu the world.

But it is deeply to be regretted, that in all ages,
and even in the present age, legitimate reasoning
lias been for the most part thrown aside, and dia-
bolical argument substituted in its stead. When
men have been unable to confute their antago-
nists by the force of arguments, they have had
recourse to "club law,'' and have knocked down
their opponents and all their reasonings, by the ap-
plication of guns and bayonets, and every species
of phijMcal force. Louis XIV, of Fi-ance, like
most of his compeers, was so convinced of the
strength of this mode of reasoning, that he en-
graved upon his great guns the following inscrip-
tion: "Ratio ultima Regum,'" that is, the Logic
of princes — or, the last argument of kings. In
this mo:ie of arguing, fifty tliousand disputers are
frequently arranged on each side of a question,
and that party which can handle their swords and
muskets with most dexterity, and blow the skulls
and limbs of their antagonists to atoms, and slash
their bodies to pieces, are always reckoned, by
tlieir leaders, the most expert logicians. There is
another mode of reasoning which has bfen fre-
quently used with disputants, and that is, argu-
ing by torture, in which the argument is some-
times screwed up to such a pitch as to mdie the
refractory disputant confess his belief in any
proposition, however wild and extravagant. A
mode of arguing nearly akin to this, is the appli-
cation of whips, sabers, gibbets, dungeons, musket-
balls, fire and fagots. In this way the Romish
Church reasoned with the Hussites and the Wal-
denses ; and with the same weapons confuted
every Protestant who dared to call in question the
infallibility and the supreme authority of the
Roman Pontiff. In this way Queen 3Iary and
her bishops argued with 277 clergymen, gentle-
men, tradesmen, and women, when, for adhering
to Protestant doctrines, they were delivered over
to be devoured by the fires of Smithfield. It was
in the same way that Claverhouse and his "bloody
binds" reasoned with the Scottish Covenanters,
when he hunted them across moors and mosses,
and massacred them in cold blood ; and that the
Star Cliamber reasoned with the Non-conformists
of England, when all their arguments were con-
futed by fines, racks, and imprisonment. It is in
this way that Nicholas of Russia has ai-gued with
the brave Poles, when vindicating their liberties
— when he sent them chained, like wild beasts, to
wander along frightful deserts, and to perish in
the forests of Siberia; and in the same way do all
nwbs reason, when they furiously demolish the
houses, the manufactories, or the churches of
tlieir opponents. On the same principles do those
men reason, who deprive their fellow-citizens of
tJie right of being eligible to certain civil offices,
and attempt to degrade them in the eyes of the
public because they nobly assume the right to
think for themselves, and to worship God accord-
ing to their consciences But, of all the argu-
ments which have been tried, to produce convic-
tion, there is none more powerful thun the in-

fluence of gold. This is an argument of so much
force and ellicacy, that npne but a few stubborn
minds have been capable of resisting it. It \h
possessed of the most wonderful properties — in a
moment it enlightens the understanding, wins
the aft'ections, removes every doubt, silences every
objection, clears up every difficulty, banishes
every scruple, and generally causes the most
sturily logician to give up his point, and bend to
its power. In short, it is an intermediate idea, or
major proposition, which will lead to almost any
conclusion. By this argument the wisdom of
the wise, and the understanding of the prudent,
have been more quickly and etfectually refuted
than by all the wisdom of Solomon, or by all the
reasonings of philosophy; and its powerful effects
are to be seen in our own land, and in every na-
tion under heaven.

Such have been the modes of reasoning which
have most generally prevailed in the world. O!
foolish and infatuated reasoners! Is it not high
time to undermine your logical principles and
systems, fo build on a new foundation, and to
train the rising generation in such a manner, that
they may employ their mental powers in accord-
ance with the dictates of reason and the word of
God!

SECTION XIII.

Natural theology.

Natural Theology is that branch of know-
ledge which proves and illustrates the attributes
of the Deity from the works of nature — a study
which is open to all the inhtvbitants of the earth,
and from which they may derive impressive views
of the existence, the perfections, and the inces-
sant agency of that Great Being who made and
who governs the universe. " For, the invisible
things of God, even His eternal Power and
Divinity, are, when duly attended to, clearly seen
by the things that are made," and have been so
in all ages, "from the creation of the world;" so
that, "even the heathen nations are without ex-
cuse," if they neglect to trace in those works the
being and attributes of their Creator, and refuse
that tribute of reverence and obedience which is
due to His perfections. This is a study ijii which
the young should be early initiated. It lies at
the foundation of the religion of the Bible; for
the inspired writers take for granted that we
know the evidences of the existence of the Divine
Being, and of some of the attributes with which
he is invested, and direct us to the contemplation
of the works of his hands, as proofs and illustra-
tions of the truths they unfold. "Lift up thine
eyes on high, and behold Him who hath created
these orbs: stand still, and consider the wondrous
works of God. Great is the Lord, and of great
power; His understanding is infinite. His works
are manifold, and in wisdom He hath made them
all." In exhibiting the works of God to the
young, in performing experiments to illustrate
their properties, and in describing the laws and
mechanism of the material world, every opportu-
nity should be taken of directing them to the
displays of power, benevolence, wisdom, and in-
telligence, which these works exhibit. It should
be deeply impressed upon their minds, that it is
the highest and noblest end of science, to mark
the evidences of wise and benevolent design,
and to trace the incessant agency of our Creator
iu all our surveys and investigations of the work

108

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT

OF

MANKIND

of creation — witliout an attention to wliich, the
mere knowle(ig(> of natural facts is an acquisi-
tion of a coinp.irativt'ly trivial nature.

An intelligent teacher can sekloni be at a loss
to direct tliealto,ntion of liis pupils to this subject;
for there is no part of the scenery of nature in
which a discerning eye will not perceive the most
eviJont traces of benevolent design and infinite
intelligence, not oifly in the exquisite mechanism
of animated beings, but in the structure of vege-
tables and minerals, and the general arrangement
of the earth, tlie waters, and the atmosphere. The
adaptation of the solid parts of the globe for the
liabitation of nuiu and other terrestrial animals —
the adaptation of the waters of the ocean and of the
rivers to the purposes of commerce, and for the
abode of countless multitudes of organized beings
— the coloring thrown over the campy of heaven,
and over the landscape of the earth — tiie process
of evaporation, and the innumerable benetits it
confers — the agency of the atmosphere, the won-
derful properties of its component parts, and its
extensive influence in tlie aiiinnxl and vegetable
kingdoms — the solar light, and the infinity of
beautiful effects it produces — the thousands of
diversified objects wiiich delight the eye in the
natural embellishments of creation — the harmony
and order, the grandeur and sublimity, of the
celestial motions — the arrangements of the plane-
tary system, and the provision made for secur-
ing its perpetuity — the relation of man to the
agencies of external nature, as the action of water,
air, light, heat, electricity, &c. — the proportion
between the body of man, and the objects and
living beings around him — the muti)[p.l relations
wliich subsist between animals and vegetables,
and their co-operation in promoting the same de-
sign— the adaptation of almost every vegetable to
the support of some species of animals — the power
of vegetables to reproduce and continue their
species, and the variety of admirable means by
which it is effected — the various methods employ-
ed to disperse the seeds of plants over the surface
of the globe, and to adorn it with vegetable
beauties — the adaptation of plants to the different
climates, and to tiie necessities of their respective
inhabitants — the admirable structure of their seeds,
roots, leaves, and sap-vessels, particularly as dis-
covered by the microscope in transverse sections
of plants, &c. — their important uses in the system
of nature, and the numerous beauties and varieties
which they spread over the face of our terrestrial
creation; particularly, the curious and admirable
mechanism displayed in the construction of ani-
mated beings, from the microscopic animalcule,
ten hundred thousand times less than a visible
pointj to the elephant and the whale — the organs
of mastication, deglutition, digestion, and secre-
tion, all differently contrived, according to the
structure of the animal and the aliments on which
it feeds — the eyes. of insects, and the thousands of
transparent globules of which they consist — the
metamorphoses of caterpillars and other insects,
and the peculiar organization adapted to each
state of their existence — the numerous beauties
and minute adaptations in the wings, feet, pro-
bosces, and feathers, of gnats and other insects —
the respiratory apparatus of fishes, and the nice
adaptation of their bodies to the watery fluid in
which they pass their existence — the construction
of birds, their pointed bills to penetrate the air,
their flexible tails serving as rudders, the light-
ness, strength, and tenacity of their feathers, and
the whole structure of their bodies adapted to the
air in which they fly, and the food by which they
are sustaiuod— above ail, the wonders of the hu-

man frame, the numerous parts of whicli it ia
composed, the hundreds of bones and muscles, the
thousands of Veins, arteries, glands, nerves, and
lymphatics, the millions of scales and pores in the
skin, the heart with its ventricles and auricles,
the brain with its infinity of fibers, the lungs with
their millions of vesicles, the organs of sense, with
their multifarious adaptations and connections,
and the harmonious movements, adjustments, and
adaptations of all tliese parts to the system of
external nature and to the promotion of the hap-
piness of man, — these, and thousands of similar
objects, adaptations, and contrivances, will afford
ample scope for expatiating on the Power, Wis-
dom, and Intelligence, of the Almighty Creator,
and on the Benevolent contrivances whicli appear
throughout every part of the universal system;
and were specimens of some of the objects now
alluded to exhibited tothe young, it could not fail
of arresting their atteiition, and inspiring them
with admiration of the wonderful works of God.

We have comparatively few books on this
subject. . Derham's " Physico-Theology," Ray'a
"\Visdom of God in the Creation," Nieuwentyt'a
"Religious Philosopher," Paley's "Natural Theo-
logy," Lesser's "Insecto-Theology," and several
other works, contain a number of valuable frag-
ments illustrative of the being and perfections of
God from the works of Nature. But we have no
complete or comprehensive system of Natural
Theology; and the works now alluded to, however
valuable and worthy of being perused, are not
adapted to the capacities of the young. We re-
quire a compiehensive compend on this subject,
for the use of schools, in which the descriptions
and reflections should be as much as possible
divested of the technicalities of science, and which
should be illustrated with numerous engravings.
The best treatise of this kind I have yet seen, is
" The Youth's Book of Natural Theology," by the
Rev. T. H. Gallandet, lately published at Hartford,
Connecticut. This work is clear and explicit in
its descriptions, and, for the most part, level to
tb.e comprehension of the juvenile mind. But its
illustrations are chiefly confined to the human
body and the parts and functions of animals. It
is thrown into the form of Dialogues, which has
a tendency to render it interesting for the private
perusal of the young; but a work on this ])lan is
not so well adapted to serve the purpose of a text-
book for public seminaries.* I3y means of in-
structions on this subject, the young would be
prepared for the study of Christian Theology, and
would be qualified to appreciate the beauty and
sublimity of those descriptions, given by the in-
spired writers, of the agency of God in the
economy of nature.

Having enlarged to a greater extent tlian I ori-
ginally intended on the preceding departments of
knowledge, I shall do little more than barely
mention several other branches wliich should oc-
casionally form the subject of instruction in all
our schools. These are such as the following: —
Natural History, including not only a description
of animals, but likewise of the most interesting
facts connected with the earth, the waters, and
the atmosphere; such as earthquakes, volcanoes,
ice-islands, caverns, cataracts, natural bridges,
glaciers, boiling-springs, the phenomena of thun-
der, lightning, aurora-borealis, parhelia, luminous

* Tlie reader is respectfully referred, for some illustration*
of this subject, to "The Christian Philosopher," parricularly
to Chapters i-, ii, and iv, and to the author's volume "On the
Improvement of Society," &c. Section vi, "On the Influ>
ence of Knowledge in promoting Enlarged Conceptions a'
die Attributes of the Deity."

FEMALE EDUCATION.

109

arches, fiery meteors, whirlwinds, water-spouts,
&c. Tlio ol)joct3 connected with natural history
should be among the first that are presented to
the view of (he young, and they sliould be intro-
duced as subjects of attention tliroughout every
period of tlieir subsequent education, as they form
the ground-work of our physical knowledge and
investigations. — Botany is another pleasing subject
on which sketches might be occasionally given,
and which miglit be illustrated by the slirubs and
flowers connected with the garden belonging to
the seminary, formerly described. Microscopic
views of the seeds and farina of flowers, the
vessels and ramilications of the small leaves of
minute plants and flowers, the prickles on the
leaves of nettles and other shrubs, transverse
sections of plants, displaying the beautiful ar-
rangement of the sap-vessels, and similar objects,
should be e.\hibited, and the attention directed to
the fine polishings, the numerous minute vessels
compressed into the smallest space, and the other
exquisite pieces of Divine workmansliip connected
with the process of vegetation. — Mineralogy is
another department of nature, on which a few in-
structions might be given, wherever there are
specimens to illustrate the descriptions. But de-
scriptions of metals or minerals, without present-
ing to view the metallic substances described,
will be of little avail. — Sketches of Political
Economij, illustrating the principles of commerce
and manufactures, and other topics connected
with this subject, might be given to the ad-
vanced pupils, as soon as they are able to enter
into the spirit of such disquisitions. In such
sketches, noble and liberal views should be incul-
cated; the selfishness and antipathies of nations,
and the inconveniences and absurditii.-s of those
restrictions which one nation imposes upon an-
other, should be strongly reprobated; and a sjjirit
of good-will and generosity enforced toward other
nations and communities, considered as members
jf the same great family to which we all belong.
Ifl connection with this sid)ject, they should be
taught something of the civil and criminal laws
of their country, of the duties of magistrates, and
of their own duties as subjects; of the form of
government under which they live, and of their
social rights and privileges. Of no less impor-
tance to all classes, particularly to the lower,
are instructions on Domestic Economy — including
directions and rules respecting orderliness and
cleanliness in dwellings — the best modes of cook-
ing victuals — the proper nursing and managment
of children — the rearing and treatment of domes-
tic animals — the economy of bees — the cultivation
of gardens, and the best mode of rearing culinary
vegetables — the decoration of their houses, areas,
and flowerpots, and whatever else has a tendency
to promote health and comfort, especially among
the working-classes of societ5^ In short, instruc-
tions in Vocal Music should be occasionally in-
terspersed with the other scholastic exercises, and
church tunes and airs, adapted to some beautiful
or sublirrte pieces of poetry, might be sung, at
convenient seasons, in unison, by all the pupils.
The words adapted to the different airs should be
calculated to convey instruction, and to raise the
soul to some interesting or sublime objects. All
such vulgar and debasing ideas as are generally
nterwoven in our popular song^, and which are
little else than a compound of sensuality and
selfishness, should be carefully discarded. A good
organ or other musical instrument might be used
for leading the vocal strains. Music, both vocal
and instrumental, has long been too frequently
prostituted to tho most wortliless purposes; it is
Vol. I.— 33

now high time that it shoulu be consecrated to
moral objects, and to the celebration of the per-
fections and the works of tha Most High.

In addition to the mental exercises now alluded
to, pupils of every description should bo daily
employed in bodily exercises, for invigorating
t'leir health and corporeal powers. Every school
should have a play-ground for this purpose, as
extensive as possible, and furnished with gymnas-
tic apparatus for exercising the muscular activi-
ties of the young of both sexes. Swings, poles,
hooj)s, see-saws, pulleys, balls, and similar arti-
cles, should be furnished for enabling them to
engage with spirit and vigor in their amusements.
la walking, running, skipping, leaping in hight,
length, or depth, swinging, lifting, carrying,
jumping with a hoop or a pole, they will not only
find sources of enjoyment — when these exercises
are properly regulated to prevent danger and con-
tention,— but will, also strengthen and develop
their corporeal energies, and invigorate their
mental powers. All imitations, however, of war
and military maneuvers should be generally pro-
hibited; as it is now more than time that a martial
spirit should be counteracted, and checked in tha
very bud, — and those who encourage it in the
young need not wonder if they shall, ere long,
behold many of them rising up to be curses in-
stead of benefactors to mankind. They might,
likewise, be occasionally employed in making
excursions, in company with their teacher, either
along the sea-shore, the banks of a river, or to the
top of a hill, for the purpose of surveying the
scenes of nature or art, and searching for mine-
rals, plants, flowers, or insects, to augment the
school museum, and to serve as subjects for in-
struction. If every school had a piece of ground
attached to it for a garden, and for the cultivation
of fruit-trees, potatoes, cabbages, and other culi-
nary vegetables, children of both sexes, at certain
hours, might be set to dig, to hoe, to prune, to
plant, to sow, to arrange the beds of flowers, and
to keep every portion of the plot in neatness and
order. Such exercises would not only be health-
ful and exhilarating, but might be of great utility
to them in after life, when they come to have the
sole management of their domestic affairs. They
might also be encouraged to employ some of their
leisure hours in the construction of such mecha-
nical contrivances and devices as are most conge-
nial to their taste. If, instead of six or seven
hours' confinement in school, only five hours at
most were devoted to books, and the remaining
hours to such exercises as above-mentioned, their
progress in practical knowledge, so far from being
impeded, might be promoted to a much greater
extent. Such exercises might be turned, not only
to their physical and intellectual advantage, but
to their moral improvement. When young people
are engaged in tiieir diversions, or in excursions
along with their teacher, their peculiar tastes,
tem])ers, and conduct toward each other are
openly developed; they act without restraint, they
appear in their true colors, and a teacher has the
best opportunity of marking the dispositions they
display. He can therefore apply, at the moment,
those encouragements and admonitions, and those
Christian rules and maxims, by which their cha-
racters and conduct may be molded into the
image of Him " who hath set us an example, that
we should walk in his steps." The incidents and
the atmospherical phenomena which may occur
on such occasions, will also supply materials
for rational observations and reflections, and for
directing the train of their affectic ns, and thd
exorcise of their moral powers; and no opportu-

110

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

iiity of tills kind, for producing usefiii imprcs-
eions upon tlie young;, should be lost by a pious
and intelligent instructor.

Thus 1 luivc endeavored, in the preceding
pages, to exhibit an outline of some of those
branches of knowledge, in which every individual
of the human race — tiic Jhiiaie sex as well as the
male — should receive a certain portion of instruc-
tion. Hitherto the female sex have been sadly
negli'Cted, their educaliou, where they have not
been altogether overlooked, has been more showy
tlian substantial; and they have been generally
treated as if they were not possessed of the mental
powers requisite for acquiring all the useful
branches of science. Without entering into the
question, Whether the female ciiaracter possesses
the sanie degree of intellectual energy as that of
the other sex? it may be alHrmed, without the
least hesitation, that, when their education is pro-
perly directed, they are capable of acquiring every
branch of knowledge which can improve or adorn
tlie human mind. We have numerous examples
to corroborate this position. It is sufficient to
mention the names of Mrs. Barbauld, Miss Aitken,
Miss Edgeworth, Mrs. Wakefield, Mrs. Hemans,
Mrs. More, Mrs. Marcet, Miss Taylor, Miss Lan-
don, Mrs. Somerville, Mrs. Willard, Mrs. Phelps,
&c., which are only specimens of many others,
most of whom are still alive and actively em-
ployed, both in Britain and America, in instruct-
ing their own sex and society at large, and in
promoting the interests of general knowledge.
The female sex possesses css-cidinUy the same in-
tellectual faculties as the male, wiiatever may be
said as to the degrees of vigor in which the primi-
tive powers exist. But even in respect to the de-
cree of acuteness and energy of the female intel-
lect, we have examples of individuals wlio, with-
out the advantage of an academical education,
have explored the system of the universe, com-
posed commentaries on the Newtonian philoso-
phy, and prosecuted the most abstruse mathema-
tical investigations; and I have no hesitation in
asserting, that academical honors should be con-
ferred on such accomplished females, no less than
on the other sex who have enjoyed more opportu-
nities of improvement.* Females have more in
their power than the other sex in forming the
tastes and dispositions of the young, and in
giving them those impressions in early life which
may be either beneficial or injurious to society.
They are the more immediate guardians and in-
etructors of the rising generation during the first
stage of their existence, and upon the discretion
and intelligence they display in superintending
the evolution of the yoiitliful mind, will, in a
great measure, depend the intelligence and the
moral order of the social state to which they be-
long. Their influence is powerful, not only on
the tastes and manners of society, but on the
moral principles and characters of mankind. Be-
eide, they are beings destined for iir.mortality, and
equally interested as the other sex in all that is
awful or glorious in the revelations of Heaven;
and therefore ought to have their minds enlight-
ened in every branch of knowledge which may

* Mrs. Somerville has lately been elected member of the
Literary and Philosophical Society of Geneva, the first time
an honor of the kind was ever conferred on a female. An
American paper states, whether truly or not I cannot deter-
mine, that ''The Legislature of Indiana have chartered a
college, to be called iJie Christian College, in which degrees
are to be conferred on both males and females. There are
to be degrees of Doctress of Natural Science, of English
Literature, or Belles Lettres, of Fine Arts, and of Arts and
Science i." However ludicrous tliis may appear to some, I
ean see no impropriety ia following out such an idea.

have a beneficial influence on their present con-
duct and their future destiny. Until more atten-
tion is paid to the cultivation of t!ie female mind,
among all ranks, society cannot be expected to
make an accelerated progress in the course of
moral and intellectual improvement.

In specifying the preceding branches of know-
ledge as subjects in which all classes of the young
should be instructed, I do not mean to insinuate,
that, in the first stage of their education, such
subjects are to he studied in regular courses, as in
academies and universitiss, though at a future
period this plan may be adopted. While they are
learning English reading, composition, writing,
arithmetic and other branches, illustrations may
be given of the more interesting and popular parts
of the physical sciences — which will tend to give
them a relish for such subjects, and to prepare
them for entering on the more particular study
of such branches of knowledge, at a period when
their faculties are more matured. Nor ought it
to be objected, that, in this way, young persons
would only receive a smattering of learning,
which would puft" them up with vanity, and do
them more harm than good. If every portion of
knowledge communicated to them, however de-
tached and insulated, be clearly explained and
illustrated, and thoroughly understood, it must
necessarily be useful, either in expanding their
views, or in its practical applications. For exam-
ple, if, by certain pneumatical and hydrostatical
experiments, they are made to perceive clear
proofs of the atmospheric pressure, and its opera-
tion in the case of syphons — if they are made to
see, by similar experiments, that, On this princi-
ple, water may be conveyed either over a rising
ground, or along a valley to an opposite hill, —
this single fact, clearly understood, might be of
considerable use to them on many occasions, even
although they were unacquainted with all the
other principles and facts connected with pneu-
matical science. The great object to be attended
to is, to convey, on every subject, a clear and
well-defined idea to the young, and to guide them
to the practical application of knowledge.

There is a line of Mr. Pope which has been
hackneyed about for a century past, which is in
everybody's mouth, and which is generally mis-
applied, when an allusion is made to this subject —

"A little learning is a dangerous thing."

How such a sentiment came to be almost univer-
sally quoted and admired, I am at a loss to divine-
It is a proposition which cannot be supported by
any mode of reasoning with which I am ac-
quainted, and is itself " a dangerous thing," if by
learning is understood the acquisition of any por-
tion of useful knowledge. Every one must ac-
quire " a little" portion of knowledge, or learn-
ing, before he can acquire a larger share. A child
must acquire the knowledge of the letters and
elementary sounds, before he can read any lan-
guage with fluency — and must form soiae idea of
the objects immediately around him, before he
can acquire an accurate conception of the subjects
and scenes connected with geography. If the
proposition be true, that " a little learning is dan-
gerous," then it should follow, that a very great
portion of learning, or knowledge, must be much
more dangerous. If it be dangerous for a boy to
know that the earth is 25,000 miles in circumfe-
rence, and to be able to prove that it is round like
a globe, then Newton and Bacon must ha\e been
extremely dangerous individuals, whose know-
ledge extended to an almost unlimited range. If
a liHlo learning is dangerous, then absolute igno*

RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.

Ill

ranco and destitution of all ideas, must be the
Safest ami tlie happiest stute of liuinan beings.
But iiow can even "a little" knowledge be dan-
gerous? Suppose a young person to have road
only tlie Gospel of Luke, and to have acquired a
knowledge of all tlie facts it records — would he
be less happy in himself, or more dangerous to
society, on tliis account, because he had little
acquaintance witli tlie oilier portions of Scrip-
ture? or, would he have been better to have read
nothing at all ? Or, suppose he had been in-
structed in the fact, that foul air of a dcadiij
nature, is frequently to be found at the bottom of
old wells, and that it is requisite to send down a
lighted candle to determine this point before a
person attempts to descend into such places, —
would the knowledge of such circumstances be
dangerous to him, because he is not acquainted
"With the properties of all the other gases, or with
the whole system of chemistry? Would an ac-
quaintance with a portion of geography, suppose
the States of Europe, be dangerous to any one,
because he had not minutely studied all the other
quarters of the globe? or would a knowledge of
hydrostatics be useless, because he was unac-
quainted with several other branches of natural
philosophy? Such conclusions are obviously ab-
surd, and therefore the proposition under consi-
deration is absolutely untenable. The persons
who most frequently reiterate this sentiment are
those wlio are opposed to the universal education
of the lower orders, and to the general diffusion
of knowled'je. I know of no class of men to
whicn such a sentiment will apply, except, per-
haps, to a few pedants who have got a smattering
of Greek and Latin at a grammar school or a
cdKege, without any other substantial acquire-
ment, and who pique themselves on this account,
as if they were elevated in point of knowledge
far above the vulgar throng.

But although I have admitted that, during the
firststage of instruction, only a few fragments of
knowledge would be communicated, yet before
the course is finished, a very considerable por-
tion of all that is really useful in the sciences
might be imparted to the j'oung. Suppose that,
on an average, every child is able to read
with tolerable fluency by the time he is arrived
at the ago of seven or eight, and that the course

of instruction for every member of the community
shall be prolonged ujitil he arrive at the [)eriod
of fourteen years — in the course of six or seven
years, a summary view of all the more interesting
principles and facts connected with the sciences
above specified, might be communicated, even
supposing that half a year were exclusively devo-
ted to eacli. But there would be no necessity for
restricting the pupil to one branch of knowledge
at a time. Wiiile, at one hour, he was receiving
instructions, and witnessing experiments in natu-
ral philosophy or chemistry, during other hours
of the day he might be prosecuting arithmetic,
algebra, geometry, or composition. Thus, during
little more than the time usually spent in acqui-
ring a knowledge of Latin and Greek, a very con-
siderable portion of useful knowledge might bo
acquired, which would expand the range of tho
juvenile mind, increase its sources of enjoyment,
and lay a broad foundation for future usefulness
and improvement. And I trust there are few, in
modern times, who will hesitate to admit, that the
knowledge thfis acquired would bo infinitely pre-
ferable, in point of utility, t« all the scraps of class-
ical literature usually picked up, during the same
period, at our grammar schools. — But why, it
may be asked, should such an extent of knowledge
be communicated to the lower orders of mankind?
I answer, in a few words, Because they are ration-
al beings, furnished by their Creator with facul-
ties capable of acquiring it; because it will increase
their enjoyments and, render them more useful
in society; because it will tend to prevent vices
and crimes, and to raise their souls above the de-
grading pleasures of intemperance and sensuality;
because it v^W\ render them more expert in their
raechanicril professions; because it will fit them
for becoming improvers of the arts and sciences,
and for taking a part in all those movements by
which society may be improved and the world
regenerated; and because they are beings destined
to immortality, and therefore ought to be instruct-
ed in every department of knowledge which has
a bearing on the future world to wliich they are
advancing, and which is calculated to prepare
them for its pleasures and its employments. But,
as I have already written a volume chiefly in re-
lation to this point, it would be unnecessary, on
the present occasion, to enlarge.

CHAPTER VII.

MORAL AND RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.

Im the preceding sketches I have taken for
granted, that during the whole process of educa-
tion, the attention of the young should be directed
to the manifestations of the Divine attributes in
the v/orks of nature — the fundamental principles
of Christianity — the rules of moral action — and
the eternal world to which they are destined.
These are subjects which should never be lost
sight of for a single day, and which should be in-
terwoven with every department of literary and
scientific instruction. In a particular manner it
should be deeply impressed upon the minds of the
young, that the instructions they receiiie, and the
studies in which they now enqage, are intrnded, not
merely to qualify them for the busiuess of the
present life, but likewise to prepare them for the

felicities and the employments of the life to come.
This is one of the ends of education which has
been glaringly overlooked in most of our initia-
tory schools, and particularly in the arrangements
connected with a fashionable education — a circum-
stance which seems to indicate, that the superin-
tendents of such an education either do not be-
lieve the doctrine of a future state, or v,.'w it as a
matter of little importance, or consider that no
specific training is requisite to qualify a depraved
human being for engaging in the sublime contem-
plations and exercises of the heavenly world. —
Having occasionally advertol to this subject in the
preceding discussions, I sha!!, at present, offer
only a few general remarks.

On all occasions, the young should be frequent-

112

ON THE MURAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

iy remiiided, that tliey are dependent creatures,
who (ierivp. their existence from an Almighty
Being wlio is witliout beginning and without end
— that tlieir daily comforts und all their powers
and facnlties are bestowed by Ilim, .md are the
effects of liis unbounded Goodness — that, tliough
iuvisibie to mortal eyes, he is present in all places,
and that they are every moment surrounded by
his immensity — that his presence and agency are
seen in the solar light, the majestic inovements
of the heavenly orbs, the succession of day and
night, the ebbing and flowing of the se.i, the
falling rain, the winds, the lightnings, the rolling
thunders, and in every movement within us an.l
around us — that though we could climb the hights
of heaven, or descend to the center of the earth,
we should still be within the range of his omni-
scient eye — that his eye penetrates through the
dark night as well as through the clear day —
that he knows every thought and purpose that is
formed in our hearts — that he beholds, at the
same moment, whatever is taking place, in every
part of the world, and throughout all the regions
of the universe, among all the tribes of mankind,
and among all the hosts of angels — that his do-
minion extends over thousands of worlds, and
that his universal government shall endure for-
ever— tliat he is good to all, and that his kindness
extends to the birds of the air, the fishes of the
sea, and even to the smallest insect that crawls
on the ground — that he is "righteous in all his
ways and holy in all his works," unchangeable in
hia purposes and faithful to his word — that to this
Great Being we are all accountable for every
thought, word, and action — and that there is a
day approaching when "he will judge the world
in righteousness, and render to every one accor-
ding to his works." — Such characteristics of the
Divine Being should be illustrated, in so far as is
practicable, from sensible objects, — His goodness,
from the numerous creatures He has brought into
existence, and the ample provision He has made
for all their necessities, — His wisdom, from the
numerous adaptations which are found in our own
bodies, and in the elements around us,' — Wispower,
from the vast bulk of this world, and of the plane-
tary orbs, and the amazing rapidity of their mo-
tions,— 'His justice, from the judgments inflicted
on wicked nations, — H is /a i^^/uZ/iess, from the ac-
complishment of promises and prophesies, as re-
corded in the history of the world, — and His love
and mercy, in " sending His Son into the world to
be the propitiation for our sins."

In attempting to explain the attributes of the
Deity, and to impress the minds of the young with
a deep sense of his universal presence and agency,
it is not necessarj'' that they should commit to
memory complex and technical definitions and
descriptions of the Divine perfections. Such ex-
ercises, unaccompanied with specific and familiar
illustrations, can produce no clear and well-defin-
ed conceptions of the objects to which they refer;
and when mere words are crammed into the mem-
ory unconnected with ideas, they must produce
a hurtful effect, and lead the young to rest in the
form of knowledge without the substance. Beside,
everj' memorial task in which the ideas connected
with the words are notclearlyperceived, is always
accompanied with a painful effort. As all our
ideas on every subject are originally derived from
the objects of sense, so it is by sensible illustra-
tions alone that we can convey to any mind,
whatever, distinct conceptions of the character
and attributes of the Almighty. Although a defi-
nition of any of the Divine perfections may he
•tated to the young, yet it is chiefly by examples

illustrative of the subject, that a clear and com
prehensive idea of it can be conveyed. For exam-
ple, suppose it were iniended to explain what is
meant by the wisdom of God, we might tell them
in the words of one author, that "Wisdom, is that
whereby the soul is directed in the skillful man-
agement of things, or in ordering them for the
best," — or, in the language of another, that "The
wisdom of God is tiiat perfection by which ha
selects and ado])ts the most proper means for ac-
complishiTig good or important ends;" but such
definitions, simply announced, would convey no
definite conception of the thing intended. We must
produce objectsorexunples, in which wisdom is dis-
played, and describe them in the most minute and
familiar manner. We must illustrate, in the first
place, what is meant by the wisdom of men, by pro-
duchig a clock, a watch, a planetarium, a micro-
scope, a ship, or similar machine — pointing out the
object intended to be accomplished by such instru-
ments or machines, and directing the attention to
the means employed, and the harmonious co-op-
eration of every part in accomplishing the end
intended. In a watch, for instance, the object is
to point out the hour of the day. The means
employed to eff^-ctuate this purpose are — a coiled
elastic spring, communicating its action to the
fusee, thence to a series of wheels and pinions,
the teeth of which apply to each other,condiicting
the motion to the balance, and thence to the in-
dexes which point out the hour and minute. The
proper position and arrangement of all these parts,
the size and shape of the whole, the number of
teeth they respectively contain, the materials of
which they are constructed, the connection of one
part with another, and the harmonious co-operation
of the whole to produce the respective motions- of
the hands, indicate unsdom and design in the con-
triver of such a machine, in his selecting the pro-
per means to accomplish the purpose intended. In
a similar manner, flie wisdom of the Creator must
be illustrated by selecting, out of the many thou-
sand of instances within and around us, a few ex-
amples, which should be particularly described
and elucidated. For example, the admirable struc-
ture of the eije, the different humors of which it is
composed, for the purpose of forming an accurate
picture of every object on the retina — the apparatus
for the contraction and dilatation of the pupil, to
adapt it to different degress of light — the muscles
by which the ball of the eye may be easily moved in
every direction, and preserved in perfect steadiness;
the bony socket in which it is lolged, to secure 't
againstacciJents — ihelid which likewise deicuds it
against injuries, wipes ofi' the superfluous moisture
and covers it during the hours of sleep — with many
other curious contrivances, all adapted to the na-
ture of light, and to the purpose of producing vision
in the most easy and delightful manner, showing
the most admirable selection of means to bring
into full effect the end proposed. In like manner,
the curious structure of the ear, and the adaptation
of all its parts for receiving impressions from the
undulations of the atmosphere — the different arti-
culations of the bones, according to the movements
they are intended to produce — the adaptation of
the air to the lungs, and the vesicles of the
lungs to the nature and properties of the atmo-
sphere— the proportioning of the size of man to
that of the plants and animals which exist around
him — the structure of the various animated beings,
and the diversity of organization which exists
among them, exactly adapted to their variona
wants and modes of existence — the gra(hial ap-
proaches of light and darkness — the harmony and
order of the celestial motions — and similar exam

BIBLE INSTRUCTIONS.

113

pies, when particularly exolnined and illnstratcd,
will convey clear ideas of wliat is mt-unt by tlie
toisdoin of God, and the manner in which it is
displayed in tlie scenes of creation; and in no
other way can we impart clear and well-defined
conceptions on such a subject. And, when once
a clear conception of this attribute of the Deity is
impressed upon the mind by such examples, it
may be applied to iiwral subjects, and illustrated
from tlie moral dispensations of God toward our
race, as recorded in tlie Sacred History, and in
the general history of tlie world.

Airain, suppose we wish to exi)lain the Infinity
or Immensity of tlie Divine Being, it is not enough
to say that " God is without all bounds or limits;"
—we must endeavor to illustrate the idea by
sensible representations, in so far as they are
capable of assisting our conceptions on the sub-
ject. It may be laid down as a principle, that
"Wherever God acts, there he is, and that there is
no part of the universe in wiiich we do not per-
ceive the exertion of an agency which, either
mediately or immediately, proceeds from the
Deity. " The motions of the moon and tlie
planets, the ebbing and flowing of the sea, the
gentle breeze, the impetuous whirlwind, the pro-
cess of vegetation, the movements of animals,
the motions of our fingers and eyelids, the pulsa-
tion of our hearts, and every other agency vi-'ithin
and around us, are sensible evidences of the pre-
sence and incessant operation of the Almighty.
And although we were to wing our flight beyond
the limits of this sublunary sphere, there is no
part of space with which we are acquainted, in
which we should not find ourselves surrounded
with the emanations of light, the action of gravi-
tation, and the influence of caloric, and other
agencies wilh which we are at present unac-
quainted.— With regard to the idea of infinity, in
BO far as a partial conception of it can be couvej'-
ed, we must likewise have recourse to sensible
objects and illustrations. We must endeavor, in
the first place, to communicate an ample and im-
pressive idea of the extent of the globe on which
we dwell, by such methods as stated under the
article Geography. We may next endeavor to
give the pupil an idea of the distance of the
moon; then of the distance of the sun, which is
placed 4U0 times farther from the earth; then of
the distance of the nearest star, which is two
hundred thousand times farther from us than the
sun; then to the remotest stars visible through
the best telescopes, whose distance is immensely
greater; and then to the bouniiless regions of space,
which extend in every direction, beyond all that
is visible to the eye of mortals. Time must be
allowed for tBe mind to pause and dwell with par-
ticularity on each of these dimensions, and on
the immense magnitude of the numerous objects
contained within them, until it is lost and over-
powered in the immensity of the prospect; and
then be informed that all this magnificent scene is
but a small portion — only like a drop to the ocean
— of the infinity of space, which is filled v/ith
the Divine presence, and in which the Deity con-
tinually operates. Without such illustrations,
all the definitions or metapliysical descriptions
that may be given, will convey no impressive
conceptions of the immensity of God — they will
be only words without meaning, and the sem-
blance of knowledge without the substance. It
is on a principle of this kind that the Psalmist
conducts his description of the Omnipresence of
the Deity in the l.^Sth Psalm— =' Whither shall I
go from thy Spirit? or whither shall I flae from i
thy presence? If I ascend into heaven thou art

there ; if I descend into hades,^^ or the invisi-
ble regions of the earth, " behold thou art there.
If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in
the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall
thy hand lead me, and thy riglit hand shall hola
me." Vv'hen the ins[)ired writers display the
characters and attributes of the Deity, they do
not perplex us with definitions and abstract de-
scriptions, but direct us to his visible operations
in Nature and Providence, as descriptive of his
character and perfections; and this circumstance
must be considered as suggesting the proper mode
of illustrating his attributes, either to the young,
or to any other class of individuals.

In connection with such instructions as the
above, the juvenile mind should be directed to the
History of the Dioine dispensations, as recorded in
the Old and New Testaments. It is a striking
fact, that the greater part of the Revelations of
Heaven is communicated in a historical form.
Had the limited views of man been adopted, as to
the mode of a communication from heaven, it
would have been thrown into the form of an arti-
ficial system of propositions or doctrines, similar
to some of our metaphysical compends of the-
ology. But " He who knoweth our frame," and
who is the Source of intelligence, has selected
the historical form as the most proper mode of
conveying instruction on those subjects which
have a reference to our present and everlasting
happiness. This mode of instruction is evidently
attended with many and peculiar advantages. It
is calculated to arrest the attention, to influence
the affections, to awaken the power of imagina-
tion, to carry conviction to the mind, to render
truth and duty more level to the understanding
than abstract doctrines or precepts, and to make
a deeper impression upon the memory than any
other mode of instruction. Beside, the Sacred
history, in a particular manner, is remarkable
for its beauty and simplicity, the dignity of its
style, and the fidelity and impartiality with which
its narrations arc conducted. It delineates, with
an unerring pencil, the true characters of men,
traces the invisible springs of human actions and
events, relates with uniform fidelity the faults of
the most illustrious saints, and exhibits examples
of vicious characters to be shunned, and of virtu-
ous characters blended with certain imperfections,
as models for our general imitation. Above all,
it embodies virtue in its most amiable and sub-
lime form, in the account which it gives of the
life, transactions, and sufferings of Jesus Christ,
who is set before us a perfect pattern of universal
holiness.

The young should, therefore, be early directed
in the study of all those portions of Sacred his-
tory which are most congenial to their feelings
and level to their comprehension; — particularly
the history of the creation and the fall of man —
the circumstances which attended the universal
deluge — the destruction of Sodom — the lives of
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, and Sam-
uel— the deliverance of the Israelites from Egypt,
and the leading events which befell them in the
wilderness, and in the land of Canaan — t\w. life
and transactions of Elijah and Elisha, the deliver-
ances of Jonah, Daniel, Shadrach, Meshech,
Abednego, Peter, and Paul — the circumstances
which attended the birth, the transfiguration, the
crucifixion, the resurrection, and ascension of
Jesus Christ — the preaching of the gospel by the
Apostles, and the various persecutions and success
which attended their labors — together with every
similar detail in the history of the Bible, that
may be calculated to arrest the attention of tho

114

ON THE MORAL LMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

juvenile mind. In connection witli the facts
wliich tliese histories record, all the essential
doctrines of religion are clearly stated, and its
precepts, or .he trne principles of hunuui action,
are powerfully, thonjrli jn some cases silently,
inculcated. Thus religion is exhibited, not merely
as a creed or a series of abstract projjosilions to
be believed, but in an embodied form, in which the
doctrines and duties of Christianity are connected
with a train of events, incidents, and sensible ob-
jects, and with the delineation of characters and
moral actions, which form so many links of asso-
ciation between doctrine ajid practice which can-
not be dissevered. It is evident, then, that the
mode in which Revelation has been communi-
cated to man is intended as a model to direct us in
imparting religious instructions to the young, or
to any other class of society. And, when we
substitute, in tlie room of the Scriptures, cate-
chisms, or any otiier abstract compends of di-
vinity, however orthodox, we virtually declare,
that the wisdom of maii is superior to the wisdom
of God, and that the plans devised by erring mor-
tals are to be set in competition with the plan of
inspired men, who derived their instructions im-
meiliately from the Divine Spirit. Beside, the
instructions on religion derived from such compi-
lations, even when understood (which they seldom
are), are received by the young merely on the au-
thority of the authors or compilers, and can never
produce such a thorough and rational conviction
of their truth and obligation, as if they were de-
livered in the language of men who derived their
instructions and commission immediately from
Heaven. In deviating from the plan of Divine
Revelation, numerous disputes and dissensions
have arisen in Christian society. Almost all the
controversies and dissensions which have taken
place as to the manner of conducti.ng Sabbath-
schools, have arisen from such a circumstance
as this — Shall the words of a certain Catechism,
whether understood or not, be crammed into the
memories of all the pupils? With one party it is
of little consequence although the same leading
truths be communicated in scriptural or other lan-
guage, unless the precise vocables of the formulary
they approve of be strictly adhered to and commit-
ted to memory, as if they were the immediate dic-
tates of inspiration. Hence a sectarian spirit has
been engendered, contentions and wranglingshave
been introduced, the advantages which might have
been derived from the study of the pure oracles of
heaven prevented, and the religious improvement
of the young sacrificed to party rancor and hos-
tility.

It appears to me unnecessary^ in the first in-
stance, to perplex the minds of young persons
with a great variety of doctrinal opinions, such
as are generally inculcated in most of our Con-
fessions and Catechisms. It is only requisite that
a few of the fundamental and leading doctrines of
Christianity be exhibited, such as the moral attri-
butes of the Deity — the fall of man, and his con-
sequent depravity — the necessity of a Saviour —
the love of God in sending his Son into the world
to be a propitiation for our sins — repentance to-
ward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ,
the necessity of being renewed in the spirit of
our minds, and of pfosecutijig the path of univer-
sal holiness — the connection of the present state
with the future, and the important realities of
the eternal world These, and similar truths in-
timately connected with them, should be speci-
fically illustrated, and deeply impressed upon the
mind as the first principles or axioms of the Chris-
tian system. lu ccnjunctioa with these, some of

the leading moral precepts of the Bible should be
jiarticularly inculcated, and illustrated by appro-
priate examples, such as, "I'liou shall love the
Lord thy God with all thy heart —I'liou shalt
love thy neighbor as thyself — V\ hatsoever ye
would that men should do to yen, do ye even so
to them — Love your enemies, do good to tliem tha
hate you — Bless them who curse you — If thine ene-
my hunger, feed him, if he thirst, give him drink —
Let love bo without dissimulation — Live peaceably
with all men — Be not desirous of vain glory — Re-
cotnpense to no oneevil for evil — Put on humbleness
of mind, meekness and long-suffering — forbear one
another, and forgive one another, if any man have
a quarrel against any: as Christ forgave you, so
also do ye — Put away lying, and speak every man
truth with his neighbor — Children, obey your
parents — Be followers of Christ, who did no sin,
neither was guile found in his mouth, and who
hath left us an example that we should walk in
his steps." Such Christian precepts, frequently
brought to the view of the mind, and familiarly
illustrated by examples derived from Scripture,
and from common life, could not but make an
impression on the young, far more beneficial than
if it were possible to cram into their memories all
the definitions, distinctions, and dogmas of meta-
physical theology. Such heavenly injunctions,
when clearly explained, come home to the under-
standing and the feelings; they are recognized as
the pure dictates of the Spirit of God; and although
there were no other precepts presented to view
but those I have now stated, a full recognition of
such heavenly principles, in all their practical
bearings, would, ere long, completely regenerate
the world, and cause righteousness and praise to
spring forth before all nations.

•In endeavoring to teach young persons the
morality oi the Bible, and to imbue their minds
with its holy principles, it is not enough that its
precepts be announced, and that they be accus-
tomed to recite them. They should be pointedly
applied to every moral incident that may occur,
and to whatever tempers or dispositions may be
displayed in their conduct. Every time a vicious
disposition manifests itself, a Cftristian precept
should be applied to counteract it. Is a boy, for
instance, taking revenge on his companion for an
injury either, real or supposed, such precepts as
these should be pointedly addressed to him; — "Re-
compense to no man evil for evil. — Avenge not
j'ourselves, but give place to wrath. — Bless them
that curse you, and pray for them that despite-
fully use you." Does he manifest a proud and
overbearing disposition? Apply such divine max-
ims as these: — "God resisteth the proud, but he
giveth grace to the humble. — A proud heart is an
abomination to the Lord. — Though God is high,
he hath respect to the lowly; but the proud he
knoweth afar off. — Put on humbleness of mind,
meekness and long-suffering; and let each es-
teem another better than himself." Does a prin-
ciple of envy, hatred, or malice, manifest itself?
Those passages of Pcrij)ture which condemn
such dispositions should he brought forward and
illustrated: — "Let all bitterness, and wrath, and
clamor, and evil speaking, be put away from you,
with all malice. — The works of the flesh are
hatred, strife, envies, murders, &-c. — He that
hateth his brother is a murderer. — If a man say, I
love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar. —
Where envy and strife is, there is confusion and
every evil work." The tendency of such disposi-
tions, and the dreadful consequences which fre-
quently result from them, should be illustrated
by such examples as these: — The brothers of

MORAL TRAINING

115

Joseph envied and hated him, and under the in-
fluence of these diabolical alFection.s, would have
murdered liiin, if the providence of God liud not
preveutud. — Ahab envied Nabotli, and caused iiini
to be put to death. — Hamau hated Mordccai, and
caused a gallows to be prepared for his destruc-
tion, on which he himself was hanged. — The
Jews, from hatred and "envy," delivered up Jesus
to the Roman governor to be crucitied. In like
manner it may be shown, that all the wars, con-
tentions, and persecutions, which have convulsed
and desolated the world, are the natural results of
envy and hatred, and that the indulgence of sucii
principles unfits the soul for tlie enjoyment of
eternal life.

There can scarcely be a doubt, that the best
mode of impressing the minds of the young with
the moral principles of Christianity is, to exhibit
the operation of these principles in real life, and
to point out specifically those dispositions and
modes of conduct which are directly opposed to
the prece|)ts laid dowu by our Saviour, and to the
example he has set before us. For this purpose,
a watchful eye should be kijpt on their conduct,
and on the temper it displays. Even the most
minute ramifications of their conduct should be
strictly inspected; and those looks and gestures,
words and actions, which may at first sigiit ap-
pear trivial or inailTerent, should Hot be altogether
overlooked; for, in many instances, they manifest
the existence of an evil principle ready to burst
forth into action, and which should be carefully
counteracted. There are a great many disposi-
tions of this kind which are daily manifested in
families, and at public seminaries, which are either
altogether overlooked, or considered as the mere
ebuUilions of youthful frolic or amusement, which
nevertheless, involve principles altogether incon-
sistent witli the dictates of inspiration, and with
the harmony and order of the intelligent universe.
And if such evil principles be not destroyed in the
bud, they will " grow with their growth, and
strengthen with their strength," until they appear
in all their noxious luxuriance in the active' scenes
of social life. The following are some of the prac-
tices to which I allude: — Tossing away hats and
caps, calling nicknames, tearing books, acting
deceitfully in making bargains, pinching and
scratching, boxing and fighting, taking deliglit in
teasing and vexing one another, mocking at na-
tural defects and infirmities, valuing themselves
on account of the finery of their dress, taking
revenge of injuries, envying their companions on
account of their acquirements and the approbation
bestowed upon them, manifesting a spirit of pride
and domination, mocking the aged, the lame, or
the blind, wanton cruelty toward the inferior
animals, or encouraging them to fight with each
Other, injuring trees, shrubs, or flowers, cutting
or hacking walls, tables, or any useful piece of
furniture, equivocating when giving evidence in
relation to any fact, — and many similar practices,
which are too seldom counteracted by the proper
application of Christian principles. In particular,
the practice of boxing and fighting, and every
other revengeful action, should be reprobated and
condemned with the utmost firmness and decision,
as subversive of every principle that pervades
the Christian system. That such practices have
abounded at our public schools, and still too
much abound, is a disgrace to our character as
a professing Christian people, and to those who
have the superintendence "of the morals of tiie
young. The practice of pilfering should likewise
be promptly checked, and a strict regard to
houesty and uprightness encouraged and enforced, i

However trifling the value of the article — al-
though it should be only a pin, a gooseberry, a
pea, a marble, or a cherry-stone, no one should
be allowed to interfere with it, if it is claimed as
the property of another; for it is not the value of
the article, but the principle of the action, which
demands our consideration. Above all, lying should
be represented in such a light as to be held in uni-
versal abhorrence; and the importance of truth —
winch is the bond of society, and the basis of the in-
telligent universe — should be illustrated and enfor-
ced by every scriptural and rational consideration.
For the purpose of illustrating the principles
of moral action, and of applying the precepts of
Christianity to particular cases of delinquency, it
might be proper to set apart a portion of one day
in the week for inquiring into moral conduct,
whether blamablo or praiseworthy. Cases of this
description would be known to the teacher, and
others would be brought forward by the young
people themselves. A particular case should be
stated in all its circumstances, and the attention
of the whole school directed to it. Suppose a boy
has been convicted o[ falsehood — having sauntered
about the fields in company with some idle com-
panions, when he should have been at school, and
having afterward informed his parents that ho
was then regularly attending on his instructions.
The precepts of the Word of God which bear
against falsehood, should, in the first place, be
brought forward, — such as, " Thou shall not bear
false witness. — The Lord hateth a lying tongue.—
Lie not one to another. — Putting away lying, let
every man speak truth with his neighbor. — All
liars shall have their part in the lake which burn-
eth with fire and brimstone." The dismal conse-
quences which would follow, if truth were univer-
sally violated, might next be stated. All confidence
among intelligent beings would be completely de-
stroyed:— there could be no friendship nor affec-
tionate social intercourse — no improvement in
knowledge — no seminaries of learning, no vil-
lages or towns could be reared, nor fields culti
vated' — every one would shun the society of his
neighbor, and we could become acquainted with
nothing but what we ourselves had seen or expe-
i rienced. The happy effects which would result
from a universal adherence to truth might then
be illustrated, and a narrative or two might
be read, exemplifying the importance of truth,
and the mischievous effects of falsehood. Abun-
dance of such narratives will be found, both in
civil and in sacred history, and they should
always be at hand for illustrating and enforcing
instructions of this kind. The delinquent should
then be reasoned with on his conduct, and admo-
nished with such seriousness and mildness as may
tend to convince him that you have his best inte-
rests at heart. In like manner should all other
kinds of delinquencies be publicly investigated, and
the opposite virtues explained and inculcated.
When a youth has been found frequently guilty
of committing the same fault, after repeated admo-
nition, it may be proper that punishment of some
kind or other be inflicted upon him. Corporeal
punishment, however, will seldom have any good
effect. Few cases, I presume, will be found,
where either young or old have been vhipped into
the paths of wisdom and holiness. The punish-
ment selected should be such as has a tendency
to excite reflection on the evil of the otTense, and
to lead to penitence. Until repent:uice and
amendment be clearly manifested, the delinquent
should be banished from the play-ground, and
from all the usual sj)orts and associaiion.s of his
companions, that he may feel ashamed of his cou-

116

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

duct; anJ when ho has given full satisfaction to
his teacher anil iiis school-fellows, let him be cor-
dially received into favor, and rein>!t:iU.-d in his
former privileges. This is the principle which
the A[>ostlo Paul lays down with respect to the
members of Christian (/hurches: — '"Witiulraw
yoursi'lves from every brother that walketh disor-
derly." And I see no reason why the same prin-
ciple may not be applied to accomplish the same
end in the case of the juvenile members of public
seminaries. It is to be understood, however, that
it is only those faults which are publicly known
tiiat should bo publicly investigated, — those which
are known only to the teacher and the delinquent
should be discussed in prioate, in the manner now
suggested, or in any other way that circumstances
may dictate.

Actions which are praiseworthy should likewise
be publicly noticed, and mentioned with due com-
mendation. If any young person has rescued a
little girl from the hands of wicked boys who had
been maltreating her, and conducted her safely
home — if he has shared a morsel of his bread
with a hungry fellow-creature — if he has found a
toy, a book, a pocket-handkerchief, or a piece of
money, and restored it to the owner — if he has
showed kindness to the blind or lame — if he is
attentive to his learning, and obedient to his pa-
rents and instructors, — such examples of virtuous
conduct should receive their due meed of praise,
and be exhibited as patterns for imitation, and
those Christian precepts which enjoin them
brought forward and inculcated. Commendation
animates and encourages the minds of children,
and when it is merited should never be withheld.
At the same time, they should be reminded, that
when they have done all that they were com-
manded, they have done nothing more than what
was tiieir duty to. do; and, that no services of ours,
however praiseworthy, can he meritorious in the
sight of God; that such actions, however, are
essentially necessary as evidences of a renewed
nature and of our subjection to the authority of
God — that they promote our own comfort and
the happiness of others — and that they prepare us
for the employments and the society of heaven,
where all the Christian virtues will be displayed
in perfection without any mixture of evil. — Were
such instructions and illustrations of moral prin-
ciple, as now suggested, regularly attended to,
and every disposition and action of the young
submitted to the test of Cliristian principle, there
can scarcely be a doubt that the most beneficial
results would soon appear, and the moral state of
society be improved far beyond what we have
ever yet experienced. But, if we are remiss in
onr attention to the best interests of the young,
and refuse to bring into full operation a rational
system of moral and religious instruction, we
have no right to complain of the vicious disposi-
tions of the rising generation, or the licentious-
ness and depravity of general society.

In recommending to the young the study of
the Scriptures, every requisite direction and as-
sistance should be afforded to guide them in their
researches into the oracles of God. When reading
the historical parts either of the Old or the New
Testament, maps of Palestine, and of the adjacent
countries, should be put into their hands, that
they may be enabled to trace the journeyings of
the Israelites in the wilderness, the relative posi-
ticas of the twelve tribes in the land of Canaan,
the travels of Jesus Christ and his apostles, and
the situations of the principal cities, towns, ]
mountains, rivurs, lakes, and seas, mentioned in !
the Bible. To assist their conceptions of the i

Jewish tabernacle and temple, plans of tliese
buildings should bo presented, along with figures
of the altar of burnt-olfering and of incense, the
ark of the covenant, the table of show-bread, the
golden candlesticks, the brazen laver, and other
sacred utensils. To illustrate the antiquities of
the Jews and other eastern nations, their customs,
buildings, &c., sketches should be given of their
manners and customs, arts, sciences, vegetable pro-
ductions, and peculiarities of climate, which are
frequently alluded to by the sacred writers, and
which should be illustrated by engravings in so
far as they tend to convey ideas on the subject
They should be taught to acquire clear concep-
tions about everything they read, and, when they
meet with difficulties or obscurities, never to rest
satisfied until they receive the requisite explana-
tions. When they read a description of any
scene or transaction, such as the Israelites passing
through tlie Red Sea, or assembled around Mount
Sinai — our Saviour teaching the multitudes from
a ship on the Lake of Gennesaret — or Paul stand-
ing on Mars hill, addressing the people of Athens
— they should be instructed to represent in their
imagination the various objects which compose the
scene as delineated by the historian, whether
mountains, rivers, seas, corn-fields, buildings, or
assembled multitudes, which would tend to con-
nect with sensible objects the moral instructions
to be derived from such narratives. In forming
such pictures of imagination they might be assist-
ed by the teacher selecting parts of those scenes
in their own country with which they are ac-
quainted, and leading them to imagine the objects
and transactions recorded in the Bible as passing
immediately before tliem amidst the scenery with
which 'they are familiar; or by presenting before
them accurate engravings of the natural and arti-
ficial objects connected with Judea and other
eastern countries, in so far as the)'' can be pro-
cured. In this point of view, it is much to be
regretted, that almost all the pictorial illustrations
of our " Family Bibles" are absolutely worthless
and worse than useless, omitting almost every-
thing that is instructive and consistent with fact,
and introducing silly and fictitious scenes, full of
anachronisms, inconsistencies, and violations of
costume, which have no other tendency than to
convey a degrading and distorteS conception of
the scenes recorded in sacred history. Above all
things, the young should he directed to consider,
that every transaction recorded in Scripture is
intended to produce an intellectual and a moral
effect, either to display the perfections of God,
the character of his moral government, the safety
and happiness of those who put their trust in
him, the evil tendency of disobedience to his laws,
or the path of duty in which we ought to walk
in the various circumstances in which we may bo
placed. "All Scripture is profitable for doctrine,
for correction, for reproof, and for instruction in
righteousness; " and therefore the study of no
portion of sacred history should be discontinued,
until its moral instructions be clearly perceived
and applied. Questions and exercises of various
kinds, in relation to Scriptural facts, doctrines,
and duties, should be prescribed, to excite the
attention, and direct the judgment of the young
in their investigation of divine subjects; but as
we have now various little books calculated to
direct the juvenile mind in such exercises, it is
needless to dwell on the subject.

It might not be improper to have a text-book or
two, selected from Scripture, and interspersed
with occasional remarks, tending to elucidate cer-
tain passages and events. We have class-books

SABBATH-SCHOOLS.

for schools, the greater part of which is selected
firom plays, novels, farces, and Pagan historians
and moralists. And why should we not have a
text-book selected from tlie oracles of inspiration,
which contain a greater variety of sublime and
I important matter than is to be found in any other

source of iuformation? Such a text-book might
comprise selections on such topics as the fol-
lowing-— Subjects which tend to expand our intel-
lectual vieics of the Deify, and of the universe he
kas created — comprising descriptions of the Ma-
jesty and Supremacy of Jehovah, the eternity of
his existence, his universal presence and agenc)',
his love, faithfulness, and immutability, his un-
bounded goodness, the wisdom and rectitude of
his moral government, and ^tlie care he exercises
over every order of his creatures — the existence
of angels, and the offices they perform under the
Divine administration — the immortal destiny of
man and the prospects opened to the righteous
of eternal felicity in the future world. Selections
iu reference to the affections and the duties incmn-
bent upon persons in the different relations of life.
In this tlejiartment those duties and affections
which are peculiarly Christian, should stand pro-
minent, such as humility, lowliness of mind, love
to enemies, doing good to those who hate us,
striving against sin, loving our neighbor as our-

117

selves, cultivating heavenly desires and affections,
&c. Selections addressed to the taste and imagi-
nation— embodying the beauties of history, poetry,
and eloquence, which are profusely scattered
throughout the sacred writings. Selections of bio-
graphy, including the lives of .Jacob, Joseph,
Mosefe, Elijah, Hezekiah, Daniel, John the Bap-
tist, the Apostle Paul, &c. I'hese, along with
selections on various other subjects, migiit be illus-
trated witli critical remarks, extracts from worka
on Eastern manners and customs, descriptions of
modern Palestine, and' the adjacent countries, the
accomplishments of Scripture prophesies, as re-
corded in history, anecdotes of young persons,
the lives of true Christians, the judgments which
have befallen persecutors and apostates, the pro-
gress of Christianity through the world, and the
benign effects it has produced on the state of so-
ciet5% Such a work, if judiciously arranged a^d
executed, and studied with care, could not out
produce a beneficial influence on the taste and
aifections of the young, and lead them to admire
and venerate the oracles of heaven. It is, doubt-
less, one cause of the low state of Christianity,
and of the influence of Pagan maxims in general
society, that such text-books have never yet
been introduced into our seminaries o" educa-
tion. '

CHAPTER VIII.

SABBATH-SCHOOLS.

Of late years these institutions have rapidly
increased, botb in Great Britain and in the United
States of America, and, if properly conducted,
are calculated to produce a highly beneficial ef-
fect on the religious improvement of the rising
feneration. In a preceding part of this volume
offered a few strictures on the mode in which
some of these institutions were formerly conduct-
ed; and, altliough the evils there complained of
still exist to a certain extent, I am happy to say,
that in many of these schools a more rational and
efficient system is now beginning to be adopted.
The teachers, many of whom are men of piety
and intelligence, are now convinced of the futility
of mere memorial exercises, and are beginning
to address the understanding and the affections of
their pupils, so that thej' may be enabled to enter
into the spirit and meaning of the truths incul-
cated. Still, however, I am decidedly of opinion,
from all that I have ever witnessed in these insti-
tutions, that the system of religious instruction
is far from having reached its highest pitch of
hnprovement, and that it is susceptible of being
carried to a degree of perfection which it has
never yet attained. The evils and defects which
adhere to the system as it exists in most of our
Sabbath-sciiool institutions, are such as the lol-
lowizig: — 1. The memorj' is still too much exer-
cised and burdened with the retenti )n of words,
while a corresponding degree of attention is not
paid to the exercise of the rational faculty. 2.
Religious instruction is too much confined as to the
range of its objects and illustrations. Instead of j
confining it chiefly to a few propositions in re- 1

I gard to what are termed the fundamental doc-
trines of the Gospel, it should extend to the
whole range of objects comprised within the
'compass of Divine Revelation, and to all the
I illustrations of those objects which can be de-
' rived from history, geography, the sciences, and
the works of nature. 3. Discussions on system-
j atic theology too frequently usurp the place of
pointed moral instructions addressed to the affec-
' tions and the conscience. 4. Catechisms and
other human formularies are too frequently set in
competition with the instructions to be derived
directly from the Scriptures. 5. Many of the
teachers, however pious and well-intentioned, are
deficient in that degree of biblical and general
knowledge which all religious instructors ought
to possess. This last circumstance I consider as
one of the greatest deficiences in our Sabbath
sciiool arrangements, and therefore shall ofler a
few remarks on the subject.

It is generally, admitted, that a professor of any
science, such as chemistry, ought to be acquainted
not only with all its principles and facts, but with
those subjects, such as natural history, experimen-
tal philosophy, and physiology, with which it
sttmds connected. It is also admitted, that the
religious instruption of the adult population, in
order to be respectable and efficient, requires that
the ministers of religion be trained to all those
branches of knowledge which tend to prepare »
them for their office, and that they may be men
not only of piety, but of talent and intelligence,
and found qualified by their superiors for the
duties they undertake And can we suppose,

118

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

that eitlier tlw itorary or the religious tuition of
tlie yniing, can be iuteiligt'ntiy or efficiently con-
ductt'd by iii;'.n who are comparatively ignorant,
and wlio" have undergone no previous training
tor snnli an office? On llio contrary, I have no
hesit.itidu in asserting, that Instructors of youth
ought to have as much information on every sub-
ject as is Usually judged necessary for a respecta-
ble minister of the Gospel, and even more than
manj^ of this class actually possess. Beside, they
ought to possess not only clear conceptions of
every portion of knowledge they wish to impart,
but also the best modes in which it may be com-
muiiiealed with effect to the juvenile mind. It
requires even more information and greater pow-
ers of mind to simplil'y knowledge, and render it
perspicuous lo llie opening intellect, than to con-
vey it to the understandings of those who are
ai'"anced in years. The man who wislies to act
as an intellectual and religious instructor, should,
if possible, acquire a comprehensive view of the
whole of the revelations of Heaven, and of the
CoUatcral subjects with which they are connected
— of the leading facts of ancient and modern his-
tory— of the scenery of nature in all its varied
aspects — of the operations of the Creator which
are displayed in the "firmament of his power,"
and of human nature as exhibited in all the
scenes and relations of social life. For it is from
these, and similar sources, that he is to derive
his illustrations of divine subjects; and unless
such subjects be illustrated by sensible scenes and
objects, no clear and distinct ideas can be com-
municated to the young, nor any deep impres-
sions made upon their hearts. The instructor of
the young must have the faculty of ascertaining
the ranqe of thougld possessed by his pupils — of
adapting his instructions to that range of thought
— and of rendering the ideas they have alreadj^
acquired subservient for increasing their number,
and for opening a wider field of intellectual vi-
sion. For this purpose, his imagination must
roam over the whole circle of his own knowledge,
to select objects, 'events, scenes, circumstances,
and similes, adapted to the comprehension of his
pupils, and calculated to expand their views,
and to illustrate tiie particular subject to which
their attention is directed. He must sometimes
extend his views to the histories of ancient times,
both sacred and profane, to the circumstances
which attended the accomplishment of ancient
prophesies, and to the doctrines, maxims, and
precepts of the Bible — somethnes to the know-
ledge he has acquired of the earth, the ocean, or
the atmos|)here, the animal and vegetable crea-
tion, or the glories of the heavens — and some-
times to the state of barbarous nations, the perse-
cutions of the church, the lives of good men, the
progress of the Gopsel among unenlighteneci
tribes, the scenes of domestic life, or the wars
and revolutions of nations. Circumstances, inci-
dents, anecdotes, descriptions, and similes, de-
rived from such sources, he will find expedient,
and in some cases necessary, to be brought for-
ward for explaining and illustrating manj' por-
tions of Divine Revelation. And therefore, were
it possible for a teacher to be a man of universal
knoirledge, so much the more qualified would
he be for imparting religious instruction, provided
he h.ad the art of simplifying his knowledge, and
rendering it subservient to moral improvement.
If religiousinstruction, indeed, consisted in nothing
more than prescribing tasks, and hearing children
recite cutechisms, psalms, hymns, and passages of
Scripture, any man, however ignorant, who had
been instructed in the art of reading, might be

considered as qualified for such an office; — and
hence, I have seen men, pious and well-meaning,
perhaps, but ignorant of almost every branch of
knowledge, and without any clear ideas on the
subject of religion, appointed as Sabbath-school
teachers, who did nothing more than take the
Psalm-book or Catechism into their hands, and
put on their spectacles to see that the youngsters
repeated their prescribed tasks with tolerable cor-
rectness. But if the great object of religious in-
struction is, or ought to be, the communication
of clear ideas res})ecting the attributes of God,
the principles of his moral government, the va-
riety and immensity of his works, the history of
his providential dispensations, the plan of his re-
demption, and the way in which its blessings are
to be obtained, the principles of moral action,
and the rules of duty he has prescribed, and
whatever tends to display the riches of his grace
and the glories of his universal kingdom — in so
far as such subjects can be imparted to the youth-
ful mind — then it is evident, that a religious in-
structor ought to be a person endowed with as
mucli general and Biblical knowledge as he can
possibly acquire.

In throwing out the above remarks it is by no
means intended to insinuate, that no good has
been effected in Sabbath-schools where the teachers
were comparatively ignorant; as I believe many
good impressions have been made upon the youth-
ful mind by pious and well-meaning men whose
range of information was extremely limited. But
it is evident, at t!ie same time, that were such in-
structors more enlightened than they have gene-
rally been, a much greater degree of important
instruction would be communicated, and a more
powerful moral impression made upon the heart.
It is consistent with the dictates of reason and
the general practice of mankind, that every man
should be trained for the profession he adopts, and
be found qualified for any oflice before he enter on
the performance of its duties. And is the reli-
gious instruction of the young a matter of so
trivial importance, that such a rule should be set
aside in appointing teachers to Sabbath-schools?
If not, then every one who wishes to devote him-
self to the religious tuition of the rising race,
should be regularly trained in all those branches
of sacred knowledge which are requisite for ren-
dering his instructions fully efficient for the pur-
pose intended. It should likewise be ascertained
whether he be of a communicative turn of mind,
and has acquired a facility of imparting ideas to
the youthful understanding; and for this purpose
Ills qualifications should be tried by experiment,
by placing under his superintendence, for a few
days, the instructions of a religious seminarjj.
Every one found duly qualified for the office
should receive a pecuniary compensation, as well
as the teachers of other seminaries, provided
he chooses to accept it. Hitherto our Sabbath-
schools have generally been taught gratis by the
benevolent individuals who have devoted them-
selves to this service, and if duly qualified in-
structors can be found who will give their services
without remuneration, no objection, of course,
can be brought against such labors of love; but it
is nothing more than equitable, that every man
who devotes his time and the energies of his mind
to any object, should receive a fair compensation
for his exertions, especially when he is under obli-
gation to cultivate his intellectual powers, and to
pass through a course of training for this purpose.
The departments of knowledge to which reli-
gious instructors should devote their attention, are
such as the following: — 1. Sacred History, or, iu

GENERAL REMARKS ON SABBATfl-SCHOOLS.

119

other words, ttie Rrcords of tlie Divine dispensa-
tions, as contained in the Old and New Tosta-
ments. For elucidating certain portions of this
history, unraveling difficulties, answering objec-
tions, and explaining various circumstances con-
nected with the Jewish worsiiip and economj%the
perusal of such works as Homo's " Introdnction
to the Study of the liible," Sliuckford's "Connec-
tion of Sacred and Profane History," and Stack-
house's " History oj the Bible," particularly the
last, will be found of great utility in expanding
our views of the revelations of Heaven, and of
the facts connected witii the moral government
of God. For illustrating the history of the Jews
aud surrounding nations, from the time of the
prophet Malachi to tlie birth of Christ — a period
of more than four, hundred years, during which
many of Daniel's propiiesies were accomplished —
the First Book of "The Maccabees," Josephus"
"Antiquities," and liis "History of the Wars of
the Jews," and Prideaux's "Connection of tlie
History of the Old and New Testament," will be
found particularly useful. — 2. Ancient History
and Geography. The liistory of such nations as
the Egyptians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Medes and
Persians, is so interwoven with the sacred history
and the predictions of the prophets, that a know-
ledge of it is, in many instances, necessary for
understanding the descriptions and allusions of
the inspired writers. Millot's "Elements of Ge-
neral Flistory," part i, and "RoUin's Historical
Works," particularl}'' his "Ancient History," will
afford the most satisfactory information on this
subject. In connection with the history of an-
cient nations, ancient geography should be parti-
• cularly studied, for the purpose of acquiring clear
ideas of the boundaries and divisions of the Land
of Palestine, and of the relative positions of the
countries that lie adjacent to it, which are so fre-
quently alluded to in the history both of the Old
aud New Testaments. Without some knowledge
of this subject we can have no clear conceptions
of many interesting circumstances recorded in the
writings of the Prophets and Evangelists, and
must frequently reau their narratives without
ideas. Maps on a large scale, of the countries to
which I allude, are of course indispensably re-
quisite, when engaging in this study; and such
maps should be hung up in every Sabbath-school,
and referred to for illustrating the narratives
of the sacred historians. Wells' " Sacred Geo-
graphy," and his "Set of Maps of Ancient Geo-
graphy," and similar works, will afford the
requisite information on this subject. — 3. The
circumstances connected tdih the fuljillment of an-
cient prophesies. The accomplishment of pro-
phesy is recorded either in the sacred history
itself, in the annals of civil and ecclesiastical his-
tory, in the present stiite of the nations and the
events passing under our daily observation, — or it
is to be looked forward to in the prospects which
will open on future generations. Hence the ne-
cessity of being acquainted with the history of the
Oiurch and of the nations, and with the political
and religions movements now going forward
throughout the world, if we wish to trace the
faithfulness of God in the accojiiplishment of the
predictions of his word. Such works as Newton's
" Dissertations on the Prophesies," and Keith's
•' Fulfillment of Propliesy," and his " Signs of the
Timee," will direct the mind to many iuteresting
views on this- subject.

4. Another subject which desorves the atten-
tion of religious instructors is. Biblical Criticism
and interpreiulion . As the Scriptures form the

groundwork of all religious knowledge, it Is of
importance to ascertain that the copy or eJiilon
which we use approaches as nearly as pos.sible to
the original; and wiien we are satisfied on this
point, it is equally important to determine the
rules by which the different portions of the Bible
are to be interpreted, according to the subjects on
which they treat. This includes an inquiry into
the literal meaning of words, and the Jiguraiioe
sense in which they are frequently used — the
scope of the writer — the parallel passages — tiie
sources of poetic imagery, or the objects whence
the sacred writers derive their figurative repre-
sentations— the principles of Symbolical language
— and a knowledge of the localities in wliich the
writers were placed, and the historical circum-
stances to which they allude. On this subject
many voluminous works have been written; but
the general reader may, perhaps, be sufficiently
gratitred by the perusal of such volumes as Car-
penter's "Scripture Difficulties," and his " Popu-
lar Lectures on Biblical Criticism and Inter])re-
tation." — 5. The manners and customs of the
Eastern nations. The manners, customs, arts, and
sciences of the Hebrews, and the natural and arti-
ficial scenery with which they were surrounded,
exerted a powerful influence upon their literary
productions — even upon those which were dic-
tated by inspiration. Without a knowledge of
these it is impossible, in many instances, to un-
ravel the sense of the inspired writers, to perceive
the beauty and emphasis of their compositions, or
to feel the full force of their narratives and allu-
sions. For the elucidation of this subject we are
now furnished with a variety of interesting works,
of which the following are specimens : — Paxtou's
" Illustrations of Scripture;" Plarmer's " Observa-
tions oh certain passages of Scripture;" Taylor's
"Fragmenta," appended to Calmet's Dictionary;
Burder's "Oriental Customs;" Carpenter's "Scrip-
ture Natural History;" and the reports of certaiu
modern travelers, such as Burckhardt, Buck-
ingham, Leigh, Dr. Jowot, and the American
Missionaries. In the first six volumes of " The
Modern Traveler," compiled by Dr. Conder, al-
most everything will be found requisite for the
illustration of the physical geography, climate,
seasons, &c. of Judea, and the surrounding coun-
tries. An occasional reference to such subjects
for the elucidation of Scripture, could not fail of
exciting the attention and improving the under-
standings of the young.

6. The study of the system of Nature, or the ma-
terial works of God, as displayed throughout the
earth, and the starry firmament. To these works
the inspired writers, on numerous occasions, direct
our attention, as evidences of the Power, Wisdom,
and Goodness of Jehovah, and of his superin-
tending Providence. They should therefore be
studieU vv'ith care, and contemplated with an eye
of intelligence, as illustrative of the perfections of
the Deity, and of the declarations of his word
There is nothing to which young people listen
with more attention than to familiar discourses
upon the wonders of creation, when they are de-
livered in a clear and distinct manner, and made
level to their capacities; and when the works of
God are brought into immediate connection with
the truths of his word, a more powerful impression
of these truths, on the ])rinciple of association,
will be made upon the mind. For example, when
we describe the immense mass of water in the
caverns of the ocean; the lofty ranges of moun-
tains; the flaming volcanoes; the magnitude of
our globe; the rapid motion with which it flies

120

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

throngli the voids of space; or the immense num-
ber ami size oi" tlie celestial orbs — auJ briiijr these
objects ill coiiiiectiou with such ]);issages as these:
"He holdelh tlie ocean in the hollow of his hand;
he haug(>th t!io earth upon nothing; ]ie nioteth
out the heavens with a span; and takelh up the
isles as u very little thing — Great is our Lord and
of great power, his understanding is infinite —
Great and marvelous are thy works, Lord God
Almighty:" &.c. — when these passages are at any
time recalled to mind, the objects which illustrate
them will naturally occur; and, when the objects
tliemselves are dii-e^tly contemplated, the mind
will revert to the dictates of inspiration with wliich
they were formerly associated. For the ])nrpose
of acquiring some general knowledge on this sub-
ject, religious instructors should peruse some of
the popular works whicli have been lately pub-
lished on the subjects of Natural History, Geo-
graphy, Astronomy, Experimental Philosoph}^
and Chemistry, such as those formerly recom-
mended, and particularly those works which
treat of Natural Theology, and the connection
of science with religion.* — Beside the above de-
partments, the Sabbath-school teacher should study
with particular attention human nature in all its
varieties and modes of operation. He should learn
to contemplate, with the eye of a Christian philo-
sopher, the dispositions of mankind, as displayed
in their social intercourses, the scenes of public
and domestic life, the various modes in which
the principle of evil operates, and the practices,
whether good or bad, which prevail either in
Christian or in general society. From such
sources he will derive many home illustrations of
the efTects of sin, and of the manner in which
Christian principle should operate in all the rami-
fications of human society. Pie should likewise
study some of the best works on the " Evidences
of Chrislianity " — a system of Divinity such as
" Dwight's Theology " — and, above all otlier
branches of knowledge, he should studj'^ with the
utmost care the discourses of our Saviour, as re-
ported in the Evangelists, and the practical parts
of the writings of the Prophets and Apostles,
which, in religious instructions, are too frequently
thrown into the shade. •

In teaching Sabbath-schools a practice which
is not uncommon should be carefully avoided
— and that is, addressing long-ioinded discourses
to young people, most part of which they do
not understand. I lately visited a school in a
neighboring town, containing from 80 to 100 cat-
echumens. Among tiiese were about 20 young
persons, chiefly females, from the age of 16 to the
age of 24; the rest were children from 7 to 12
years of age. After the repetition of texts, psalms,
catechisms, and passages of scripture, more than
an hour was consumed in some crude disserta-
tions, in a preaching style, on the meaning and
references of some passages in the prophesies of
Isaiah, which none of the younger persons could
possibly understand; and only about a dozen gen-
eral questions, for the sake of form, were put to
the younger class, to W'hich the answers, "yes," or
"no," were chiefly required. It S"emed as if the
ch'ef aim of the teacher had been to reconnnend
h mself to the attention of the adult part of his
audience, while the children were sitting in a state
of apathy, playing with their fingers, and eagerlj'
wishing to be gone. Such a conduct is quite pre-
posterous, and tends to frustrate the great object
of such institutions. No adress to yung people

• See p. 108.

should be continued beyond five or ten minutes
at a time, unless the subject be extremely interes-
ting and the attention exclusively fixed upon it.
The method of teaching by Inter rogatiirus, and
interspersing occasional remarks on the difFerent
topics, will be found in general the best mode for
keeping alive the attention of the young.

Sabbath-schools should not be considered as
confined to the children of the poor, or of those
who are inattentive to the spiritual interests of
their offspring, but as embracing the instruction
of all classes of society. It is indeed a duty, from
which no parent can be exempted, to impart in-
struction to his children in the principles of reli-
gion, and "to train them up in the nurture and ad-
monition of the Lord." But, without neglecting
this duty in private, their children might derive
important additional instruction by attending a
public i-eligions seminary. If the system of reli-
gious instruction were once improved, and carried
to that pitch of perfection of which it is suscepti-
ble; and, if that superior intelligence and wisdom,
which we hope ere long to see displayed in the
department of religion, vv'ere to pervade all the
details of juvenile instruction, I have no hesita-
tion in asserting that the children of the most
learned and intelligent of the community would
derive much advantage from attending such semi-
naries of instruction. Nor should such semina-
ries be confined to young persons under 12 or 14
years of age, as they too frequently are ; but
schools should be organized, adapted to persons
from the age of 15 to the age of 20, and upward,
in which they may be trained in the higher
branches of knowledge connected with religion,
and thus be enabled to take more expansive views
of the revelations of Heaven, that they may be
" thoroughly furnished for the perfoi-inance of
every good work." For the instruction and
superintendence of such schools, the stucy of
those departments of sacred knowledge referred
to above, will be found an indispensable qualifi-
cation. In order that properly qualified teachers
may be obtained for such seminaries, colleges or
academies might be established for their instruc-
tion. Evening lectures on the different branches
of sacred knowledge and popular science, accom-
panied with various other mentid exercises, might
be delivered two or three times eveiy week, to
which all might have access who wish to devote
themselves to the religious instruction of the
young. Various discussions might likewise be
entered into relative to the best modes of commu-
nicating knowledge and impressing divine trutlis
upon the heart; and experiments in the art of in-
struction might be occasionally tried by collociing
a number of children for tiiis purpose, and obser-
ving the effects which differeut instructors and
difterent modes of teaching produce upon their
affections and understandings. In the meau-
time, before such systems of instruction he
established, it might be expedient for the teachers
of Sabbath-schools in large towns, to meet once
a week, or once a fortnight for mutual instruc-
tion, and for discussing the various subjects
connected with their official duties. A library
might be formed of the best books connected with
Sacred History, Theology, and general informa-
tion, to v^'hich each of them might have access
for the purpose of private study. By such means
the knowledge of our teachers would be enlarged,
their interest in carrying forward im[)rovements
kept alive, and the system of religious instruction
would gradually approximate toward perfection.
To guide the teacher in his selection of books on

SUBJECTS OF SITJDY.

121

Sacred Literature, he may be referred to the Rev. [ couuected with the study of Divino revelation,
E. Eickerstetli's " Ciiristian Student," whicli eon- i interspersed with a variety of judicious re-
tains lists ol books in tiie various departments i marks.*

CHAPTER IX.

SCHOOLS FOR YOUNG PERSONS, FROM THE AGE OF FOURTEEN TO THE AGE
OF TWENTY AND UPWARD.

It is one of the grand defects of our present
system of education, that it is considered as ter-
minating about the period when our youth arrive
at the age of fourteen or fifteen years. Prior to
tills period, little more than the rudiments of
knowledge can be communicated, even wiiere
education is conducted on an intellectual plan.
The whole period of our existence should be con-
piJered as the course of our education; and tiiere
is no portion of human life of more importance
in this respect than that which intervenes between
the age of fourteen and the age of twenty. At
this perioJ, the rational powers are advancing
toward perfection, and axe capable of acquiring
clear and expansive views both of scienlitic truths
and of scriptural doctrines. At the same time
the moral powers and propensities are beginning
tp arrange themselves on the side either of virtue
or of vice; and, in the great majority of instances,
the character of tiie future man depends on the
intellectual views and the moral habits which are
then formed. It is therefore a matter of the ut-
most importance, that the human mind, at this
interesting period, should be properly directed as
to its views of truth and of duty, and guarded
against the temptations and allurements which
might turn it asitle from the paths of rectitude.
It is somewhat unaccountable, that this important
period in the life of man — so pregnant with bless-
ings or curses to society — should have been
almost overlooked in the view of the Christian
philanthropist, and that no specific arrangements
have been made to promote moral and intellectual
instruction during its continuance. About the
age of fifteen the greater part of those who have
enjoyed a common education are employed as
apprentices or servants. At this period, new pas-
sions begin to operate, and new pursuits engage
their attention. They mingle with new associates;
are frequently exposed to vicious indulgences,
and, in many instances, are set free from the re-
straints of their parents and guardian.s. If, in
such circumstances, no rational or religious in-
struction is regularly imparted, they will be apt,
as too frequently happens, to be led away by their
vicious companions, and their sensual appetites,
into the paths of folly and intemperance. Hence
the propriety of establishing institutions, and

• Sabbath-school teachers will derive much useful instrnc-
tion fjm the writings of Mr. Jacob Abbott, Principal of the
Mount Vernon School, Boston, particularly his " Young
Chri5'.ian,"an<l "The Teacher, or Moral Influences employed
for the Instruction of the Young." He sliould also peruse
"The .Mother at Home," and other works of the Rev. John S.
C. Abbott, of Worcester, America, formerly recommended.
In the process of teaching, the hooks published by ."Nir. Gall
on the "Lesson System," will freijuentiy be found of great
utility. But, it ought never to be forgotten, that no plans
we may adopt, and no books, however good in themselves,
can be a substitute for the scriptural knowledge and general
information of the teacher.

arranging a system of instruction adapted to the
wants and the circumstances of this interesting
portion of our population.

The subjects to which the attention of this class
of young persons should be directed might be
such as the following: — 1. The Physical sciences,
as Geography, Astronomy, Natural History, Ex-
perimental Philosophy, and other subjects more
particularly noticed in the preceding pages. The
illustration of these subjects might occupy a
wider range, and the topics connected with them
be more fully discussed than in the primary
schools to which I have already adverted. — ^2.
Logic, or the art of reasoning. This subject
might be treated in a popular manner, and the
various kinds of reasoning and of sophisms illus-
trated from the sciences, historical facts, the phe-
nomena of nature, and the conduct of men in
general society. One great object in such discus-
sions should be, to teach the pupils to habituate
themselves to clear ideas and conclusive reason-
ings on every subject — and to expose the false
principles and sophistical reasonings by which
princes, statesmen, clergymen, and others, have
supported tyranny, slavery, oppression, and abuses
of every description in church and state, and by
which deists and skeptics Have attempted to un-
dermine the fabric of Christianity. If properly
illustrated, there are few subjects more important
than this to young mea when entering on the
active scenes of life. But we have no system
of logic, with which I am acquainted, in which
the subject is treated in the popular and practical
manner to which I allude. — 3. Practical mecha-
nics and the useful arts — including discussions on
the various applications of steam — rail-roads,
canals, and machinery of different kinds — the
processes connected with the different arts, the
improvements of which they are susceptible, and
the experiments that require to be tried in order
to carry them to perfection. — 4. Ethics, or a sys-
tem of moral philosophy founded on the princi-
ples and precepts of Revelation — or, in other
words, a system of practical Christianity, explain-
ing the duties incumbent upon men in the various
relations of life, and illustrating them from the
facts connected with the scenes of history and
of common life. In the discussion of tliis subject,
the following topics, among others, would require
to be particularly illustrated: — The true founda-
tion of moral action, or the principles which form
the basis of the moral order of the universe — the
laws which God has promulgated in his word for
the regulation of human conduct — the reasonable-
ness of these laws, and thi'ir indispensable neces-
sity and obligation — the happiness to whicli the
obseWauce of them uniformly leads — the misery
which is necessarilj' consequent on their violation
— and the confusion wliich would arise throughout
every part of the social system, were these lav/s

l'J2

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

reversed or universally violated. The history of : asfo may be invited, when public discussions
all nations, both sava<re and civilized — tlie facts take place, or public lectures are delivered. —
related in llie liistory of tiie Hiblr — the narratives Similar institutions might be established for the
of voyagers and travelers — and the scenes of public improvement of the female sex, in which instruc-
and domestic society, — would furnish appropriate tions in natural history, logic, morality and re-
illustralions of sucii topics. — 5. The Ecidences ligion, similar to those suggested above, might be
of Cliri)<iianitij — illustrations of Sacred History \ imparted, together with all those useful and orna-
and Geography — explanations of iSc77;'/Mre (/(/^c«/- i incutal branches of knowledge which are pecu-
tics, and of the accomplishment of prophesies — ] liarly adapted to the stations and relations they
elucidations of Christian facts, doctrines, and pre- ] occupy iu society. In certain cases, where pub-
cepts — and other topics connected with the great j lie lectures on physical or moral subjects are
objects of religion and the realities of another delivered, arrangements might be made for Ihe

world, — should hold a prominent place among all
the other departments of instruction. Such in-
Btructious are essentially requisite, if we wish to
see mankind rising in tlie scale of intellectual and
religious improvement, and if we wish to behold
vice and intemperance banished from our streets,
and harmonj' and happiness throughout every
department of the moral world.

Such subjects as the above might be varied ac-
cording to circumstances, and elucidated, in more
or less detail, according to the ages, capacities, or
pursuits of the pupils; but, in every instance,
the chief portion of instruction should have a
particular bearing on their moral and religious
improvement. Three or four days in the week,
from eight to half-past nine o'clock in the even-
ing, might be devoted to such studies and exer-
cises,— and the same apartments vs^hich are used
for the instruction of the junior classes might
serve as places of meeting for engaging iu the
discussions to which I allude, so that no additional
expense would be requisite for such accommoda-
tions. Every arrangement in such seminaries
should be adapted to the conveniency of appren-
tices, journeymen, shopkeepers, clerks, laborers,
and all others who are employed iu active labor,
or other professional duties, during the day; — at
the same time, persons of every rank and of every

attendance of persons of both sexes, whicli, under
certain regulations, would tend to enliven the
scenes of instruction.

Such institutions have never yet been estab-
lished, so far as'l know, in any part of the civil-
ized world; nor can we hope for their establish-
ment, until the influence of avarice be in some
measure undermined — until our shops and manu-
factories be shut up at more early hours than
they now are, and until our laborers, shop-
keepers, and artisans, have more leisure to devota
to the cultivation of their moral and mental
powers. Many of our manufactories are kept
open until between the hours of eight and nine in
the evening; and our grocery-stores and other
shops, until near the hour of midnight; so that,
from seven iu the morning until near eleven at
night, our apprentices have scarcely two hours of
leisure, even for their meals. Such^long hours
of labor, during which many of the working
classes are obliged to toil from day to day, tend
not only to retard the progress of the human
mind, but to reduce mankind to a species of
slavesj or mere animal machines; leaving them
scarcely any reasonable portion of their existence,
either for cultivating their intellects, or for pre-
paring for the world to come. On this subject 1
shall afterward offer a few remarks.

CHAPTEE X

QUALIFICATIONS OF TEACHERS, AND SEMINARIES FOR THEIR INSTRUCTION.

To all that is stated in the preceding pages, it
will likely be objected, that we have few teachers
possessed of the talent and informatjpn requisite
to carry the plans I have proposed into effect. It
is indeed much to be regretted, that an opinion
has long prevailed, that the most slender qualifi-
cations are sufficient for a teacher, and that little
preparation is requisite for couHucting a common
school. If a man is unfortunate in trade, en-
feebled in body, or disinclined to manual labor, it
is considered that he may slill be sufficiently
qualified for a teacher, after having spent four or
five months at a seminary of education. If he
can read his mother-tongue, write a good text-
hand, and has acquired a tolerable knowledge of
arithmetic and book-keeping, he is considered as
fully warranted to set up the trade of a teacher;
and if in addition to these he has acquired some
knowledge of Latin and French, he is viewed as
moving in the higher rank of instructors. Such
opinions, indeed, are now beginning to be reck-
oned as somewhat antiquated, and many of our

teachers are rapidly rising in the scale of intelli-
gence; but it is, at the same time, a fact, that
many of our parochial and other schoolmasters
are possessed of few qualifications beside those
now stated. On the Continent, until lately, the
office of schoolmaster, in country villages, was
considered one of the lowest employments in so-
ciety. Even in Prussia, about the middle of the
last century, " All that was required of their
schoolmasters, who were chiefly mechanics, was
to be able to read, say the catechism, sing tolera-
bly a few well-known psalm-tunes, and to write
and cipher a little. Numbers of shepherds, em-
ployed in summer time in keeping sheep, during
winter assume the office of teachers of youth.
The nobility used generally to bestow the" place
of schoolmaster (if it was at their disposal) on
their valets or grooms, as a reward for past ser-
vices."* In many instances the offices of viljaga

• Report of the Primary Normal School at Potsdam, bj
F. L. G. Striez.

PRECEPTORAL COLLEGES FOR TEACHERS.

123

barb^^r, firldler, and schoolmaster, were conjoined
In tlie same person.

It jnuy he. utHrmed, without the least hesitation,
that there is no office in general society more hon-
orable and important than tliat of an instructor
of the young, and none on which tiie present and
future liappiness of the human race so much
depends. But, in consequence of tlie circum-
stances now stated, tiio office has been rendered
ineffieii'iit for the great purposes of human im-
provfinent, and the teacher himself degraded
from lliat rank wliich he ought to iiold in the
scale of society. It is not a little unaccountable,
that, in this country, no seminaries have ever yet
been established for training young men for the
office of teachers, so that the im])ortant ends in-
tended by a system of educatiou may be fully
accom])lished. A watchmaker, a smith, a mason,
a carpenter, or a weaver, serves an apprenticeship
of from four to seven years, before he is consid-
ered qualified to exercise his profession. A
clergyman generally undergoes a course of train-
ing for eight or nine years, before he is licensed to
perform the functions of the sacred ministry.
Even a menial servant, a stable-boy, a cook, or a
laundry-rnaid, must devote a certain portion of
time and attention before they are considered as
qualified for such occupations. But the office of
an instructor of youth is frequently assumed at
random. If a man imagines he can execute such
an office, and publishes an advertisement of his
intention, lie is believed to be qualified for what
he undeijtakes, although, perhaps, he has never
applied his mind to investigate the principles on
which instruction should be communicated, nor
the objects which education should embrace.
Such an anomaly \\\ the state of civilized society,
in I'egard to a matter of such vital importance, is
a disgrace to tlie character of an enlightened age,
and ought no longer to exist. If we had right
viev.fs of all the important objects which a system
of moral and intellectual education should em-
brace, and its extensive effects U])on all ranks of
societj^ in relation both to the present and the
future world, we should at once admit, that an
instructor of youth should be a man possessed
of almost universal knowledge, conjoined with a
high degree of moral probity and fervent piety-
How then, it may be asked, are we to proceed
in elevating the teachers in the scale of intelli-r
gence, and thus laying a sure basis for an efficient
education? The first arrangement, which is ob-
viously requisite, is to establish seminaries or
crMeges for their instruction. In these Preceptnral
CuUejes, as they might be called, such branches
as the following might be taught. — 1. Arithmetic,
Drawing, Algebra, and the Mathematical sciences,
particularly those which are more immediately
applicable to practical purposes — 2. Grammar,
Logic, History, and Christian morals. — ,3. Natu-
ral History, Natural Philosophy, Geography, As-
tronomy, Chemistry, Physiology, and Vocal and
Instrumental Music. — i. Natural Theology, the
Evidences of Christianity, Sacred History, Chris-
tian doctrines and duties. — To teach these' sciences
with effi>ct, three or four Professors would be re-
quired. Tliey should be taught, not merely by lec-
tures, but by regular examinations and numerous
exercises connected with the several topics of dis-
cussion; and, where the subjects admit of it, by ex-
perimental illustrations. The course should be as
popular in its plan and illustrations as the nature
of the subjects treated of will admit, and all the
discussions should, if possible, be made to bear
upon matters of practical utility. Of course, all ab-
etract metaphysical disquisitions, intricate mathe-

matical questions and theorems which are more
curious than useful, and all theological specu-
lations respecting mysteries and questions vviiich
are beyond the reach of the human faculties to
resolve — should be carefully avoided. Tlie great
object of these instructions should be, not to
make the students profound mathematicians, phi-
losophers, or divines — but to communicate to'
them a clear and comprehensive view of ail chose
subjects of a practical nature wliich are level to
the comprehension of the bulk of mankind,
which may present to them objects of delightful
contemplation, and which may have a bearing on
their present and future happiness. In connec-
tion with these subjects, instructions and exercises
should be given in tJie art of communicating know-
ledye, and on the various modes which may be
employed to excite the attention, and to convey
clear and well-defined ideas to the understandings
of the young. Tlie plan and routine of teaching,
the various evolutions requisite for preserving
order in a school, the divisions of time, the ar-
rangement of classes, the moral treatmeat of the
youthful mind, the punishment of offenses, the
best methods of impressing upon the heart the
truths of religion and the rules of morality, the
method of using the diffijrent class-books, and
everything else which has a relation to moral and
intellectual tuition — should be explained and illus-
trated in minute detail.

For the purpose of exercising the students in
the -practical application of these instructions, two
schools should be connected with every Preceptoral
College — one for the primary and the other for the
higher branches of education. Over these schools
the professors, though not constant or regular
teachers, should be invested with a special super-
intendence and control. Under their direction,
each student, in turn, should be appointed to en-
gage in the business of instruction, so as to reduce
to practice the philosophy of teaching. Remarks
on the manner in which he executes his office,
may be made in private, and hints by which he
may be enabled to correct any of the errors or
defects into whicli he may have fallen. These
remarks should have a reference not only to the
mode of communicating knowledge, but likewise
to the moral dispositions displayed toward the
children, and the treatment they receive. While
a proper degree of respect and authority is main-
tained, the young teacher should be taught to
address his pupils in the language of kindness
and affijction, as a father does his children, and to
avoid everything in his manner that has the ap-
pearance of being boisterous or domineering.
Beside being occasionally employed in scholastic
teaching, the students should l)e frequently ex-
ercised in the art of composition, and, at certain
distant intervals in delivering lectures of their
own composition, to the rest of the students,
on any physical or moral subject they may choose
to select. This practice would tend to prepare
them for becoming public lecturers on the dilferent
branches of useful knowledge, in the districts
where they might afterward be appointed aa
teachers. All the public exercises of the students,
both in learning and in teaching, should be com-
menced with prayer, and a recognition of the
superintendence and agency of the Divine Being,
and the business of the day concluded in the same
manner — a practice which, in this country, has
almost fallen into disuse, especially in those semi-
naries devoted to the promotion of a fashionable
education. In short, the whole system should be
considered as chiefly of a moral and religious
nature — having for its main and ultimate object,

124

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

not mcrelj' the coninuinication of litiMMiy and
eciemifio knowUdjfo, but tlic proiuolion ol' moral
order und lirti>i)iu'.^ss among luaiikiiid, and their
preparation for the felicilicB ami emjdoyments of
the world to come. Such a noble object can only
be obtained by impressing such views on the
minds of the risin^f teachers, and training them
up to habits of universal benevolence and of
Clirislian piety and devotion, that, in their turn,
they may communicate tiie same h;ibits, feelings,
and aliectidns, to young immortals over whose
instruclious tliey may be afterward called to pre-
side.

Every candidate for the office of schoolmaster,
previous to being received into sHch a college or
seminary, should be strictly examined as to his
mental powers and natural capacity for acquiring
and communicating knowledge, his moral princi-
ples and conduct, and his leading motives and
aims in wishing to devote himself to the office of
an instructor. It should be understood that he
has previously acquired the elements of a common
education — can read his native language with
some degree of correctness, can write a tolerably
good hand, and has acquired a knowledge of the
leading rules of arithmetic. For it would be in-
expedient to spend much time in such elementary
instruction, except in the higher departments of
arithmetic, and in demonstrating its fundamental
rules. No candidate sliould be under eighteen or
above thirty years of age. From eighteen to
twenty-four would, perhaps, be the most eligible
period for admission. The course should conti-
nue at least three years; and if the student can
afford the time and expense, it may be expedient
to extend it to four years. About eight or nine
hours every day might be employed in public and
private studies — and ten months every year, al-
lowing a vacation of a month about midsummer,
and another of the same length about Christmas.
During the period now specified, under the direc-
tion of zealous and enlightened professors, a far
greater portion of substantial and practical know-
ledge might be accumulated than is generally
acquired at our universities, in a course of instruc-
tion extending to more than eight years. Exami-
nations should take place, at least once a-week,
to ascertain the progress made by every student,
and the degree of attention he bestows on the
several branches of study. Afler having passed
lUrough the usual course of instruction, a more
minute and extensive examination should be
appointed of all the candidates for the office of
schoolmaster, on all the branches of instruction,
both theoretical and practical, to which their
attention had been directed. Those who are
approved should receive a certificate, or license,
signed by all the professors, specifying the pro-
gress they have made, and their qualifications for
the art of teaching — which certificate should be
considered as a sufficient guarantee to secure
tlieir admission as teachers into any vacant
schools for which they may apply. Those who
are found deficient in qualifications may be re-
commended to remain another year, or other
period, to revise their studies. The teachers who
had been inducted into office, previous to the
arrangements now supposed, should be enjoined,
or at least requested, to attend two months every
year at the Preceptoral College for three or four
years iu succession, in order to finish their educa-
tion in all those branches which are considered as
necessary for an accomplished instructor.

The proper training of teachers lies at the very
foundation of a moral and intellectual system of
education; and no class of men but those whose

minds are furnished with a largo stock of general
knowledge are capable of carrying it into elFect.
It may be laid down as a general priiici|)ie, that
no man can communicate to others knowledge
of which he himself is not possessed; and conse-
quently, whatever knowli-dge it may be judged
necessary to impart to the great mass of society,
must previously exist in the minds of those who
are appointed to instruct them. Even the lowest
class of schools, such as infant schools, and the
details of primary instruction, require men of
general knowledge as superintendents and teach-
ers. For it requires more care and attention,
more experience and sagacity, and a more inti-
mate acquaintance vvitii the ])rinc)ples of human
nature, to direct the opening intellect in its first
excursions in the path of knowledge, than to im-
part to it instructions respecting any particular
science in after-life. An infant school teacher,
for example, should be.intimately acquainted with
the facts of sacred history, with general history,
with physical and geometrical science, with the
phenomena of nature, and the processes of the
arts, with human nature in its different aspects,
and with the' scenes of domestic life. For, it is
from these sources that he is to derive those
facts, exhibitions, descriptions, and illustrations,
which are requisite to excite the attention, to
interest the affections, and to gratify the curiosity
of the infant n)ind. He must tell them stories
borrovired from sacred and civil history — he must
describe the appearances of nature — he must per-
form entertaining experiments — be must tell
tliem of other countries, and the manners of their
inhabitants — he must describe the conduct of bad
children and of good, and have a story at hand to
illustrate his descriptions. He must vary all his
descriptions, experiments, and anecdotes, as much
as possible, so that new scenes and subjecis may
be gradually opening on their view, to prevent
that satiety which a frequent repetition of tho
same topics would necessarily produce. It is evi-
dent, then, that no one but a person possessed of
extensive knowledge is qualified fully to accom-
plish such objects.

It is an egregious mistake to imagine, that the
hioivled'je of a plan of teaching, or of the mere
routine of a system of education, is all that is
requisite for conducting the instruction of children.
This is an error, which of late has been too fre-
quently acted upon, and which threatens to strike
at the foundation of many of our infant schools.
A young man, or a young lady, who has acquired
only the elements of a common education, and
who has never been in the practice of teaching
in any seminary, is sent for six weeks to an infant
school, to learn the sysietn, and to witness its
movements; after which they are considered as
properly qualified, and inducted as superintend-
ents of infant seminaries, without much attention
being paid to the range of information they pos-
sess. I am aware, indeed, tlrat several worthy
persons of this description have conducted these
institutions with considerable energy and success,
especially when they entered with vigor into the
spirit of their office, and felt ardent desires for
their own further improvement. But it would be
dangerous to the existence and utility of such
institutions to recognize such a practice as a
general rule, — although in their first establish-
ment, necessity compelled their patrons to select
as teachers, pious and discreet persons, liowever
deficient in general information. For the reasons
hinted at above, I am clearly of opinion, that
an infant school teacher should be instructed in
all the branches of knowledge to which I hav«

PRUSSIAN PRECEPTORAL COLLEGES.

125

already referred as requisite for otiier instructors;
and on this ground chiefly I rest my hopes of the
permanency and efficiencj' of the system of infant
training vvhicii has been lately introduced. In
short, if the world is to be ever thorouglily en-
lightened and regenerated — if men of all nations
and of all ranks are to be raised to the dignity of
their moral and intellectual natures, and fitted
for "glory and immortality," it is essentially re-
quisite, that teachers of every description, wlie-
ther superintending infant, parochial, or Sabbath
schools, or any other seminaries, be men of de-
cided piety, of the liighest moral attainments, and
possessed of as lar^/e a measure of useful knowledye
as viortajl can acquire. And, although we may
not be able to procure porsons endowed with such
high qualifications for another generation or two,
yet nothing short of such an elevated standard
should be ultimately kept in view. Such charac-
ters, of course, would occupy a rank and station
in society far more respectable and elevated than
they have ever yet attained, and be looked up to
as the directors of the intellectual and moral
faculties, and the best friends and benefagtors of
the human race.

Four preceptoral colleges, at least, would re-
quire to be established in Scotland, and about si.\
times that number in England, for the training
of teachers. Much expense would not be requi-
site in their erection, excepting what behooved to
be laid out in the purchase of a library, a museum,
and a philosophical apparatus; which articles
would be indispensable in such a seminary, and
the more extensive the better. In the meantime,
as a temporary expedient, arrangements might be
made for establishing such a system of instruction
in the diiferent universities and colleges which
already exist; as the same class-rooms presently
iwed for the different departments of academical

instruction, might, without much inconvenience,
at separate hours, be devoted to the system cf in-
struction now proposed. The principal country
in which such seminaries have yet been estab-
lished, is the kingdom of Prussia, where they are
designated by the name of Normal ScJwols. In
1831 there were thirty-three of these schools in
full operation, containing from 40 to 100 pupils;
that is, one Normal school for every 385,660
souls; the population of Prussia, according to
the lat2st census, being 12,726,823. From these
seminaries are' furnished almost all the masters of"
the public schools, elementary and intermediate,
in the kingdom. The annual expense of these
establishments is 110,553 thalers, or £16,583, of
which the state contributes £13,260. M. Victor
Cousin, in his voluminous and somewhat tedious
" Report on the state of public instruction in
Prussia," states a variety of minute details in
reference to the economy and regulations of
these schools, but affords us no clear idea of
the manner in which the different brandies of
knowledge are taught to those who are intended
to be the future teachers of primary and burghal
schools. Although these institutions are, doubt-
less, the most respectable and efficient that have
hitherto been established in any country, yet
the range of instruction is not so extensive as
that to which I have alluded, nor is the office of
a teacher placed in that elevated rapk which it
ought to hold in society. Teachers in Prussia
are still considered as belonging to a grade
inferior to that of ministers of the Gospel, and
are placed partly under their superintendence
But if teachers were once endowed with all the
knowledge and qualifications to which I have,
adverted, they ought to be regarded as moving in
a station equal to that of the most dignified cler-
gyman.

CHAPTER XL

ON THE PRACTICABILITY OF ESTABLISHING SEMINARIES FOR INTELLECTUAL

EDUCATION.

To any new proposals for the improvement of
society, however just or rational, numerous ob-
jections from different quarters are generally
started. Difficulties are magnified into impossibi-
lities, and a thousand prejudices are mustered up
against innovations on established practices, and
in favor of existing institutions. In attempting to
establish such seminaries as now proposed, the
most formidable objection would be founded on
the difficulty of obtaining pecuniary resources
adequate to their erection and endowment; and,
it is frankly admitted, that a very large sum of
money, reckoned, not by thousands, but by mil-
linns of pounds, would 'be requisite for their es-
tablishment and support. A rude idea of the
requisite expenditure will perhaps be conveyed
by the following statements.

It may be assumed as a fact, that the number
of children in any State, from the age of two to
the age of fifteen years, is about one-third of the
whole population; at least, this proportion cannot
be materially different from the truth. We find
that in the States of Massachusetts, Maine, and
Connecticut, North America, there is one out of
every four of the population attending a semiueiry

YoL. I— 34

of instruction. In the State of New YorTi, the
proportion of pupils to the whole population is as
1 to 3.9, a greater proportion than is to be found
in any other country in the civilized world. The
ages of the children attending these schools are,
in all probability, from four or five to fifteen
or sixteen years; for I presume that the children
attending infant schools are not included in this
enumeration. But although they were, it is well
known that infant schools have not yet been mul-
tiplied to such an extentas to furnish instruction
for one-fifth of the children who would require to
attend these institutions. We may therefore fix
on one-third as the proportion of the population
that requires to be instructed at infant schools,
and the higher seminaries of education. This
position being assumed, the number of schools
required in any city or country may bo at once
determined. Suppose, for example, we fix on a
town of a medium size, such as Dundee, we can
easily ascertain the number of seminaries requi-
site for the instruction of its juvenile inhabitants.
The population of Dundee is about 48,000; the
one-third of which is 16,000, or tlie number of
individuals that require instruction. Suppose 80

126

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

Bcholars, at an average, to attend each school,
t*liere would requiro to be no less than 200 semi-
naries erected to supply adequate instruction for
Buch a town. Of these, 50 would be ru-quisite for
infant instruction, and 150 for the instruction of
children from the ago of six to the age of fifteen,
in the higher branches of education specified in
the precetling part of this work. According to a
statement made in Parliament, by Mr. Colquhoun,
in June, lt?3i, there is only one-fifteenth of the
population of this town at present receiving the
rudiments of a common education; so that,
instead of 16,000 receiving instruction, there are
only 3,200, and instead of 200 schools, averaging
80 children in each, there are only 40 schools*
on an average, containing the same number,
which is only one-fflh of tlie number of schools
which require to be established. In order to sup-
ply Dundee icith proper education, a large building
has lately been erected at an expense of about
£10,000, which is called " The Dundee Semina-
ries," where about 209 or 300 children receive
education. The expense v^as supplied partly by
subscriptions, and partly by funds belonging to
the town; and the whole of this sum has been
expended merely to afford acconmiodalion for the
children of 100 or 150 genteel families! while
the great mass of the population has been entirely
overlooked. There is no law against the children
of the middling and lower classes attending that
seminary; but the fees demanded amount, in their
case, to an absolute prohibition. With the same
sum of money, ten commodious seminaries, capa-
ble of containing accommodation for 200 pupils
each, or 2000 in all, might have been established.
It has never yet been stated to the public, on
wluit principle education is to be conducted in
these seminaries — whether it is to be conducted
on the old si/stem, or whether a plan of intellec-
tual instruction is to be prosecuted — a most im-
portant matter, which ought to have been deter-
mined before a stone of the building was laid, or
even before a plan of it was selected. For the
plan and arrangements of any building intended
for intellectual instruction ought to be materially
different from those of others, and to have conve-
niences and arrangements peculiar to itself. But
the erection of an expensive and splendid building,
as an ornament to a commercial town, seems to
have been an object of far greater imjjortance, in
the view of the Committee of Education, than the
arrangement of an elficient i)lan of moral and
intellectual tuition. Such are. the principles and
views of many in this country who profess to be
the patrons of education!

Let us now consider the number of seminaries
which the whole of Scotland would require. The
population of Scotland, according to the census
of 1831, is nearly 2,400,000, the one-third of
which is 800,000. Supposing, as before, 80 chil-
dren at an average in every school, there would
be no less than 10,000 schools required for the
efficient instruction of all the youth from two to
fifteen years of age — of these 2500 would be
infant schools. Aceording to Mr. Colquhoun's
statement, " the number- of parishes in Scotland
is 907, and the parochial schools of Scotland
at this moment, 1005;" so that, in Scotland
it would be requisite to establish ten times
the number of schools that presently exist, in
order to the efficient instruction of the whole
population. On the supposition that there are
about 1000 private schools, beside the parochial

♦ There is a greater namber of schools in Dundee than the
Bumbei liere sfated, but the average attendance of scholars
IS onlj 43 in each school.

or two schools, at an average, for every parish
there would still be required 8000 additional
schools, or _/i»e times the number presently exist-
ing. Taking the ])opulation of England at 14,-
000,000, the number of children to be educated
will be 4,G66,6GG, and the number of schools, al-
lowing 80 for each, 58,333, or nearly six times the
number of schools required for Scotland, so that
in the whole island of Great Britain there would
require to be' established sixty-eight thousand thret
hundred and thirty-three schools.*

Lot us now consider the expenses which would
be incurred in the er-cction of such schools. Es-
timating the expense of each. school at £1000,
that is, about £700 for the budding and play-
ground, and £300 for maps, views, library, appa-
ratus, museum, &c., the neat co.4 of the schools
for Scotland would be ten millions sterling. But,
if infant schools, wherever thty are required,
were to be connected with the other schools, so as
to be under the same roof, the former on the
ground-flat and the latter on the upper,^a build-
ing consisting of two stories, with suitable accom-
modation for both departments, could, I presume,
be erected for the sum of £700. In this case, the
number of erections would be reduced to 7500;
and the whole expense would ai.iount to £7,500,-
000. On the same plan, the number of school-
houses required for England would be reduced to
43,750, and the expense would be £43,750,000;
that is, about ffty-one millions for the whole of
Great Britain. If we suppost , what is not im-
probable, that the number of infant schools, instead
of bearing a proportion to the other schools as one
to three, as here supposed, would require to bear
a proportion of one to two, or half the number of
the other schools, the number of school-houses
would be reduced to 6G66 for Scotland, and the
expense to £6,066,000; and for England, to 38,889
schools, and the expense to £38,889,000; so that
tlie whole amount of expenditure for both divisions
of the island would be about 45}-o millions.

This will appear, in the eyes of many, a most
prodigious sum — a sum which we can nevei hope
to realize. It is admitted, that the sum is great;
but nothing in proportion to the magnitude and
importance of the object intended to be accom-
plished— which is nothing less than to raise tho
great mass of our population from degradation
and misery, — to irradiate their minds with know-
ledge— to inspire them with moral principle and
hoiy affections — to render them happy in this
world — and to prepare them for the noble enjoy-
ments of the life to come; — in short, to strike at
the foundation of every moral evil — to counteract
the principles of vice and criminality of f//ery
kind — and to make the moral world, in all its de-
partments, move onward in harmony and order.
Surely, if such objects could be accomplished, we
need not grudge the expenditure even of a hun-
dred millions of pounds. And such objects will
never be accomplished, nor will the moral world
be ever thoroughly improved, until such a system
of moral and mental tuition as we have faintly
sketched, be universally (;stabli.«hed. We some-
times talk about the approaching Millennium, and
look forward to it as if it were to be introduced
by some astonishing miracle, similar to that which
caused the chaotic mass at the Mosaic creation to
bo enlightened, and reduced to beauty and order.
But such views are evidently fallacious, and con-
trary to what we know of the general plan and
tenor of the Divine government; and they have

* On the same data, the number of schools required foi
the United States of America, would be above 5ifiOO

PENSION-LIST.

127

BO other tendency but to unnerve our energies,
and to damp our exertions in the cause of human
improvement. Throughout the whole range of
the Divine dispensations recorded in Scrij)ture,
we can point out no miracle that was ever per-
formed, where the operation of the established
laws of nature, and the onlinary powers of human
agents, were adequate to accomplish the end in-
tended. Man, under the present dispensation, is
♦'a worker together witli God," — in accomplish-
ing his purposes; and, under the agency of that
Almighty Spirit which "moved upon the face of
the waters" at the first creation, is able to accom-
plish all that is predicted respecting the Millennium
— provided his rebellious loill were subdued, and
his moral energies thoroughly directed to this
grand object. It is owing to the sin and rebellion
of man that this world has undergone such a
melancholy derangement, both in its physical and
moral a.spect; and it will be by the moral and
mental energies of man, when properly directed by
the Divine Spirit, that the chaotic mass of the mo-
ral world will be reduced to harmony and order,
and the wastes and barren deserts of the physical
wprld adorned with fertility and rural and archi-
tectural beauty, so that " the wilderness and the
solitary place will rejoice and blossom as the rose."
It is one chief ingredient in the happiness of man,
and an honor conferred on him, that he is selected
OS an agent, under God, for bringing about such
a glorious consummation; and there is no man that
ought to assume the name of a Christian, who is
not ready to exert his activities, and to sacrifice a
considerable portion of his wealth in this service.
Under the Old Testament economy, the pious
Jews brought forward to the service of God, their
tithes and free-will offerings, their bullocks and
rams, and " the first-fruits of their increase."
When Solomon had dedicated the temple, he offer-
ed a Sacrifice of 2;:!,nOO oxen, and of 120,000 sheep;
and when Hezekiah set himself to purify the wor-
ship of God, and to promote reformation in Israel,
he gave to the congregation a thousand bullocks,
and seven thousand sheep — the. princes gave a
thousand bullocks and ten thousand sheej) — and
the common people "brought in abundance, the
first-fruits of corn, wine, and oil, and honey; and
of all the increase of the field, the tithe of all
things, brought they in abundantly, and laid them
in heaps upon heaps," for four months in succes-
sion, so that Hezekiah was astonished at tli? vol-
untary liberality of the people, "and blessed the
Lord and his ])eople Israel." When the taberna-
cle in the wilderness was about to be reared, "both
men and women, as many as were willing-hearted,
brought bracelets and car-rings, and rings, and
tablets, all jewels of gold; and every man that of-
fered, offered an offering of gold unto the Lord.
Every man with whom was found blue and pur-
ple, and scarlet, and fine linen, and goats' hair,
and red skin? of rams, and badgers' skins, brouglit
them. Every one that had silver and brass and
shittim-wood for any work of service, brought
them. All the women that were wise-hearted
did spin with their hands, and brought that
which they had spun, both of blue and purple,
and scarlet, and of fine linen. And the rulers
brought onyx stones, and stones to be set, for the
cphod and for the breast-plate. Every man and
woman brought a willing offering to the Lord,
until they had much more than enough for the
service of the work which the Lord commanded
to make."* These offerings were, doubtless, em-

• feee Eiod. xxrv. 21-rX), &c.— 2 Chron. vii. 5; xxx. 24,
Wd ixi. ik-3.

blematical of the cxerticns whicli would be madoj
and of the costly offerings which would be
brought forward for rearing the fabric of the New
Testament church. But what are all the offer-
ings whicli have been hitherto received for this
purj)ose, compared with the offerings now stated,
or what is requisite to accomplish this grand ob-
jcctl One of the offerings above stated as made
by Solomon is equivalent to more than five hun-
dred thousand pounds of British money, which
is more than the amount of the funds of the Brit-
ish and Foreign Bible Society, and all its auxilia-
ries, during. the first ten years of their operation.
Christians do not seem to have yet recognized
their duty, to devote a certain portion of their
substance to the service of God and the improve-
ment of man. The pitiful sums hitherto devoted
to these objects, compared with what is expended
in gratifying pride, and ambition, and luxury, is
a libel on the Christian world. If we had right
views of the grandeur and importance of such ob-
jects, instead of contributing sixpences, shillings,
and guineas, we should behold wealthy Christiana
devoting hundreds, and even thousands a-year, to
the improvement of society and the advancement
of the interests of religion; and all this could be
done by thousands iu our country, without depri-
ving themselves of a single comfort or sensitive
enjoyment.

Let us consider, for a moment, the sums we
have expended in madness and folly, in the pur-
suits of ambition and the desolations of war — and
we sljall be able to determine whether it be not in
our power to raise 40 millions of pounds for the
improvement of society. It has been calculated,
that, out of 127 years, commencing with 1688,
and terminating in 1815, England spent 65 years
in war, and 62 in peace. The war of 1688, after
lasting nine years, and raising our expenditure in
that period 26 millions, was ended by the treaty
of Ryswick, in 1697. Then came the war of the
Spanish succession, which began in 1702, w£is
concluded in 171.3, and absorbed 62,i.< millions of
British money. Without noticing the wars of the
Pretender in 1715 and 1745, the next was the
Spanish war of 1739, settled for at Aix-la-Chap-
elle in 1748, after costing 54 millions. Then
came the seven years' war of 1756, which termi-
nated with the treaty of Paris, iu 1763, in the
course of which we spent 112 millions. The next
was the American war of 1775, which lasted
eight years, in which crusade against the liberties
of mankind, we expended no less than 186 mil-
lions. The French revolutionary war began 1793,
lasted nine years, and exhibited an expenditure
of 464 millions. The war against Buonaparte
began in 1803, and ended in 1815. During those
twelve years of extravagance and carnage, we
spent the enormous sum of 1159 millions!'. 771
of which were raised by taxes, and 388 by loans.
In the war of 1688 we borrowed 20 millions; in
the war of the Spanish succession, 321.C millions;
in the Spanish war of 1739, 29 millions; in the
seven years' war, 60 millions; in the American
war, 104 millions; and in the revolutionary war,
201 millions; — so that the sums borrowed ii. hese
7 wars, during 65 years, amounted, in all, to above
834 millions. During the same time, we raised
by taxes 1499 millions — forming a total expendi-
ture of 233.3 millions! which is equal to about £100
for every man, woman, and child in Scotland, or
about £600 for every family; and which would
be sufficient to establish a system of education,
such as we have described, for a population of
about 820 millions; or, in other words, for all the
inhabitants of the globe. Thus we see, that when

128

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

amliition and revcngo arc to be gratified, when
tyranny is to he supported, wlicn the human race
is to bo slaughtfred by miUions, and when all tlie
a?*.s of miscl-ief and destruction which the demon
of war has devised, arc to be brought into opera-
tion— there is no want of funds to carry such
schemes into efTect. During the war with Buona-
parte 41) millions would have been considered as a
iiujre item in the national expenditure, amounting
to little more than the war taxes of a single year.
And shall it ever be said that such a sum cannot
now he raised for counteracting moral evil and
human misery, an;i training our population to
" glory and immortality?" That man who would
oppose such a grant, whatever rank he may hold
in society, ought to be branded as an enemy to his
species. It was but the other year that twenty
millions were granted for the emancipation of our
colonial slaves, and scarcely a voice was lifted up
against it; and there is not an individual at this
moment that can say that he personally feels any
part of the burden. It requires only that a similar
sum be doubled in order to set in motion a machi-
nery which would, ere long, promote the renova-
tion of the British population, and ultimately, of
all the inhabitants of the globe.

Let us consider, further, a few more items of
our expenditure, which might he saved and appro-
priated to purposes of human improvement. We
have, for example, a pension-list, the amount of
which, for the last half century, would more
than accomplish all the objects to which I allude.
This list includes the names of many hundreds,
nay thousands of individuals, who never per-
formed the least service for the benefit of their
country, and yet have been permitted (w devour
thousands, and even millions, of the wealth of
the nation. A consideiable portion of these indi-
viduals are ladies, connected with the nobility
and gentry, no one of whom ever wrote a treatise
on any subject, promoted a useful invention, or
handled a single musket in defense of their coun
try. One of these ladies, since 1823, has pocketed
more than £10,000; another, since 1803, above
£16,000; another, since 1784, above £28,000; and
two ladies, belonging to the same family, £28,-
096. One family, consisting of four individuals,
one of whom is a lady, since 1787, has swallowed
up no less than £86,000 of the national resources;
and two individuals, belonging to another family,
the sum of £60,816. About a dozen individuals, be
longing to seven or eight families, have consumed
no less than £280,000, wrung from a nation
ground down under the load of excessive taxation.
What, then, would be the amount of all the sums
which have been expended on the thousands of in-
dividuals whose nam.es have been recorded in the
pension-list during the last 50 years I And, be it
remembered, tliat most, if not all, of these per-
sons are possessed of independent fortunes, are
connected with the higher circles of society, and
scarcely a dozen of them have performed a single
action that entitled them to such remuneration —
whilemany worthy individuals, men of science and
philanthropy, who have promoted knowledge and
the best interests of society, have been left to
pine in poverty, and to pass their lives in an in-
glorious obscurity. — Another item which might
be saved, and devoted to the purpose of mental
improvement, is the immense sums which have
been expended in dtetioneering contests. In some
instances, no less than forty thousand pounds have
been expended by a single fam ly in endeavoring,
for selfisn purposes, to obtain for a friend a seat in
Parliament, which were was;ed in promoting
bribery, perjury, broils, contei lions, rioting, and

drunkenness. In the late elections (January,
1835) we have reason to believe that several mil-
lions have been expended. Sup])osing that there
were only 550 contested elections — that only two
individuals were opposed to each other — and that
the average expense of each candidate amounted
to £3000, the wiiole sums wasted in this manner
would amount to three millions three hundred tJiou-
sand pounds. In one or two instances it is a.s-
serted, that the expenses incurred by a single
candidate were no less than twelve and fifteen
thousand pounds. — The expenses, too, connected
with sinecure offices, which have been bestowed
on wealthy individuals, would be nearly sufficient
to pay the annual interest of the sum requisite for
establishing all the institutions to which I have
adverted. It has been calculated, that the incomes
of only eleven persons connected with the " Peel
and Wellington ministry," along with some of
their friends — derived from sinecures, places, and
pensions — amount to about £88,000 per annum,
beside their official salaries as ministers of the
crown. The Duke of V/ellington alone — includ-
ing pensions and interest of grant — is said to cost
the country £33,104 a year. — Almost all the
money expended in elections might be saved, if
proper laws and regulations were adopted, and if
electors were uniformly permitted to act as ra-
tional beings, and to vote according to the dictates
of their consciences; and if only half the ex-
penses usually incurred on such occasions were
devoted to nobler objects, it would form an impor-
tant itan in the expenses requisite for establish-
ing philanthropic institutions. As to sinecures
either in church or state, it is nothing short of
barefaced robbery of the national wealth, and an
insult offered to an enlightened people, that such
offices should exist; and, particularly, that they
should be bestowed on those who are living lu
splendor and luxurious abundance

Beside the savings which might be made in the
public expenditure, there is still a greater sum
which might be saved from various itans in the
private establishments of wealthy individuals,
which might be devoted to national improve-
ments. The saving of a single bottle of wine a-day,
would amount to £50 a-year; the discarding of
an unnecessary servant, to nearly the same sum;
keeping four horses instead of six, would be a
saving of at least £60; and discarding a score of
hounds would save more than a hundred pounds
a-year. There are thousands in our country,
who in this way could save £500 a year, to ba
devoted to rational and benevolent purposes, with-
out feeling the least diminution of their sensitive
enjoyments. There are hundreds of thousands
in the middle ranks of life who could save £20
a-year, by discarding unnecessary luxuries, in
regard to houses, furniture, food and clothing, and
feel themselves just as comfortable as before; and
there are many more among the lower ranks who
could save several pounds every year, which are
now wasted either in folly or intemperance, and
find themselves richer and more comfortable at the
close of the year than at any former period. Let
us suppose, what is perhaps not far from the
truth, that there are 50,000 individuals, or the
l-320th part of the British population, who, at an
average, have incomes of £3000 per annum, and
could devote £300 a-year to public purposes —
some much more, and some less ; this would
amount to fifteen millions a-year. There may
next be reckoned about 200,000 with incomes, at
an average of £300 per annum, who could devote
a similar proportion, namely £30 per annum;
which would amount to six millions. Supposing

NECESSITY OF PHILANTHROPIC EXERTIONS.

129

the {lopulalion of Great Britain to be 16,000,000,
■■lud tliat only oiie-fourtli of this number, namely
4,000,000, have it in tlieir power to devote a cer-
tain portion of tlieir income to the purposes al-
luded to, there would still remain 3,750,000 of the
lower classes, who might be supposed, on an
average, able to devote one guinea a-year, to the
same objects, which would amount to nearly four
millions. So that ticenty-Jice milli( «is of pounds
might be raised annually lor literary,pUilanthropic,
and religious purposes, without any one feeling
tlie loss of any sensitive enjoyment, but, on the
contrary, enjoying the purest gratification in be-
holding improvements going forward, and the
plans of benevolence gradually accomplishing.
Passing many other considerations of this kind,
the only other item of expenditure I shall notice,
is; that which is spent in the purchase of spiritu-
ous liquors, which are for the most part devoted to
the purposes of intemperance. According to an
estimate made by Mr. Buckingham and the com-
mittee appointed by Parliament to investigate the
state of intemperance, it appears, that, within the
limits of Great Britain and Ireland, there is a
loss sustained by the use of ardent spirits amount-
ing to nearly ''jifiy millions sterling per annum!"
It is stated, that, in the city of Glasgow alone,
the sum e.vpended in intoxicating drinks "is near-
ly equal to the whole amount e.xpended on pub-
lic institutions of charity and benevolence in the
entire united kingdom." This item alone would
be more than sufficient for all the purposes of
philanthropy and universal improvement. I shall
only add further, that, were all the hislioprics in
England reduced to £2,000 a-year, the balance
would furnish several hundred thousands of
pounds a-year which might be devoted to educa-
tional purposes; and both religion and education
would be promoted by such an arrangement.
Still, our bishops would have more than double
the income of the Protestant bishops on the Con-
tinent, and would likely perform more substan-
tial services than they now do to the cause of
religion. Conversing lately with an intelligent
Prussian gentleman on this subject, he informed
me that the clergy in Prussia of the same rank
with vicars and rectors in the Church of England,
have an income of from £100 to £250, reckoned
in British money; and that the salaries of the
bishops are only from £300 to £500, and that
they are far more actively engaged in the ser-
vices of the church than the bishops of England.
Thus it appears, that, there is, in reality, no
want of resources for establishing an efficient
system of moral and intellectual education on the
most splendid and extensive scale. Instead of
forty millions in all, we could raise forty millions
per annum, and would ultimately be gainers by
such a sacrifice, in the diminution of crime, the
protection of property, the progress of improve-
ment,and the increased physical and mental powers
of our population. We have the power and the
means to promote the reformation of society, and
even the renovation of the world at large, if we
had t!ie jcill to apply them. But this is the grand
denderaium. To attempt to convince some of our
dukes and marquises, our bishops and squires,
our fox-hunters, horse-racers, and fashionable
gaiiiblcrs, that it is their duty to contribute of
their abundance for such an object, would be as
vain as to beat the air, to speak to the hurricane,
or attempt to interrupt the dashings of a cataract
by the breath of our nostrils. But there is one
class of the population to which I would address
myself with some hopes of success — namely,
members of the Christian Church on whom Provi-

dence has bestowed a considerable portion of
wealth and influence. Many of these have al-
ready come forward with a noble liberality in the
cause of missions and of general philanthropy;
and they require only an additional stimulus to
excite them to still more liberal exertions in the
cause of human improvement. But the gener-
ality of Christians scorn to have forgotten the
Divine declaration, "The silver is mine, and tho
gold is mine, saith the Lord of hosts," — and that
a goodly portion of the wealth which God hath
bestowed ^pon them, ought to be directly conse-
crated to 'liis service. The church itself ha3
hitherto been too remiss on this point, and has
not been careful to enforce upon the consciences
of its members, their indispensable obligation to
devote their treasures to the promotion of reli-
gion and of public improvement. How many
nominal Christians do we see living under the in-
fluence of that "cooetousness which is idolatry,"
— hoarding up hundreds and thousands of pounds,
for the purpose either of avarice or ostentation,
or under pretense of providing fortunes for their
families, while it is with the utmost difficulty that
a single guinea can be squeezed from their pockets
for any object of benevolence or public utility?
Almost every one seems to reason, like the Duke
of Newcastle, that he has a right " to do what he
pleases with his own," not considering that he is
responsible to God for the use he makes of his
riches, and for every shilling he withholds from
his service.

Under the Mosaic economy, the Jews were en-
joined to devote a tenthpart of their substance to
the Levites and the Priests, or, in other words, for
the purpose of supporting education and the wor-
ship of God ; for the Levites were the principal
instructors of the people. Under the Christian
dispensation, the same proportion, if not more,
ought to be voluntarily offered for carrying for-
ward those plans which have a tendency to promote
tlie honor of God and the good of mankind. In
certain cases, where a wealthy individual has no
family of his own, I conceive it is his bounden
duty to devote at least the one-half of his riches
to such purposes. Until such views and practices
become more geperal among Christians, we must
still look forward to a distant period for the arrival
of the Milleniftum. For the purpose of hastening
the approach of this glorious era, we are told, iu
ancient prophesy, that the " kings of Tarshish
and of the isles, shall bring presents and offer
gifts" — that " the flocks of Kedar and the rams
of Nebaioth," shall be brought as acceptable of-
ferings to the altar of God, — that '• the glory of
Lebanon, the fir-tree, the pine-tree, and the box
together, shall beautify the place of his sanctu-
ary,"— and that, "they shall come on camels and
dromedaries, and bring gold and incense, and show
forth the praises of the Lord." Such offerings
are expressions of our gratitude to God for the
bounties of his providence and the riches of his
grace, and of our desire to co-operate with him,
in bringing into effect the purposes of his will and
the predictions of Ms word ; and no one who is
indifferent to such objects ought to assume the
character of a follower of Jesus. And, let Chris-
tians remember, that by carrying forward such a
system of education as that to which I refer, they
are using the most efficient means for promoting
the extension of the (^ospel. For the Gospel can
never be universally' „:;. ' irstood or appreciated,until
the young be univfrsaily educated. It is owing
to the want of education, and thd ignorance and
vicious habits that result from it. that multitudes
refuse to enter within a place of worship, and

130

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

when tliey do come, are incapable of fixing tlicir
atloiitiou oil religious objects, or of uiidcrstundiiig
tlie truths delivered.

In the above statements and remarks, I have
taken for gruMted, that the gotiM-iuneiit of this or
of liny othor country miglit allbrd, from tlie na-
tional funds, a graiit of money adequate to the
establishment of all tlie institutions to which I
have alluded — whether infant schools, .Sabbath
evening institutions, seminaries for the higher
branches of moral and intellectual instruction, or
preceptoral colleges for the training vi teachers.
But although no government were to feel the least
interest in such institutions, it is in the power of
the people, and within the range" of the vieaits they
actually possess, to establish tliem, independently
of any extraneous support. This, I trust, will
appear from the considerations stated in tiie pre-
ceding paragraphs. Let a general "agitation" be
excited on this subject — let the importance of it be
clearly proved and illustrated — let the necessity of
doing something more than has hitherto been done
in this respect be fully established — let -a conviction
be deeply impressed upon the minds of the influen-
tial classes of society, of the utility of such exer-
tions for counteracting immorality and crime, for
improving the social state of linman beings, and
preparing them for future felicity — let societies be
formed and subscriptions entered into for this pur-
pose— and let a few seminaries of the description
referred to, be erected in difTerent districts of the
country, — and I have little doubt that a spirit of
improvement in this respect would ere long per-
vade the mass of the community. Although many
would stand aloof, and even spurn at such move-
ments, yet I trust there is still as much virtue, and
liberality, and philanthropy among us, as would
lead to no inconsiderable exertions in the advance-
ment of society in knowledge and religion. For
my own part, I have no hesitation in pledging
myself to devote one-fifth of my annual in-
come, in the first instance, and one-tenth of it every
year afterward, for the promotion of the objects
uow stated : provided three hundred individuals in
this or any other country, shall come forward and
pledge themselves to dedicate a sindlar proportion
of their incomes to the furtherance of the same
object.* Such is the importance I attach to the
subject and the plans under consideration ; and
I feel confident, from the improvements now going
forward and in agitation, that something more ex-
tensive and efficient in this re.spect than has ever
been attempted, will, ere long, be accomplished.
There is a certain people, at whom many of our
British grandees and newspaper critics are disposed
to sneer, and upon whom they affect to look down
with a certain degree of contempt, who, I am con-
fident, will be the first to move forvrard in this
work of improvement. The)' have already made

• To prevent misconceptions, it may be jiroper to state, that
the author's income, like that of Goldsmith's "country cler-
gyman," has, for eight years past, scarcely exceeded " forty
pounds a year," exclnsive of the house in which he lives;
but should it be increased in fnture years, the same propor-
tion shall be allotted forthe object iow ^pf-ci!".ed, and a sim-
ilar proportion shall be deducted from whatever profits he
may derive from the publication of the present volume, or
any other that may succeed it. Three hundred gentlemen
whose incomes average jC2C0 a year, could, in the first in-
stance, furnish a sum to commence with, amounting to
jC12,000, and every succeeding year a sum of X60()0to carry
forward their operations; so that, in the course of ten years,
jEG6,(X)0 would be raised, which would be suffioitnt to estab-
lish nearly seventy seminaries, with their libraries, rpparat-
ns, and museums. However romantic it may appear to some
t» expect such sacrifices, the sums now specified are noth-
ing more than what were paid as a tax on such incomes
during the late war with France; and they are now solicited
oaly in the shape of a voluntary donation.

an advance in education beyond that of any other
civilized nation, but Their system is not yet per-
fect, nor universally extended. The subject, how-
ever, is exciting among them almo.4 universal at-
tention, and whenever a hint for farther improve-
ment is given, it will, I doubt not, be eugerly seized
upon, and speedily reduced to practice. They
have lately undermined, to a great extent, the cause
of intcinpi'rance, and they have it nov/ in their power
to consecrate the millions of dollars which were
formerly spent in degrading sensuality, to the fur-
therance of education, and the cause of national
improvement.* If Britidn does not soon arouse
herself from her sUaubers and move forward in
the cause of education, it will be degrading to the
rank she holds in the civilized world, to reflect,
that she is far excelled in this respect by a republic
on the one hand, and a despotical governmfeut
— ( Prussia) on the other. The oidy grant of
money that was ever directly given by the British
Parliament lor the promotion of education, was
i;20,0^0, which was conceded by the House gf
Commons in lb33; and Mr. Colquhoun stated in
1834, that " the utmost that Scotland required
( ultimately ) for the supply of education was a
provision of £60,000 per annum." The proposal
of such pitiful sums for so grand and extensive an
object, is little short of an insult offered to the
cause of education, and plainly indicates the im-
perfect and limited views which are still entertain-
ed on this subject. Some of our members of Par-
liament, when they talk of education, appear to
mean nothing more than giving the mass of the
community a few general instructions in reading,
writing, and arithmetic, according to the old iii^
efficient system which has so long prevailed. The
only gentleman who has broached this topic in
the Hoilse of Commons, anil who appears to en-
tertain clear and comprehensive views on the
subject of education, is Mr. Roebuck ; but, unfor-
tunately, his proposals and his luminous exposi-
tion of this subject, seem to have been, in a great
measure, unappreciated and neglected.

Supposing seminaries established to the extent
which the population of any country requires, a
difficulty still remains to be surmounted ; and that
is, How we shall be enabled to induce parents and
guardians of ail ranks to send their children to the
different schools appropriated for their instruction 1
It would certainly be eligible, in the first instance,
to try the effects of moral suasion — to represent to
reluctant parents, in the most affectionate maimer,
the utility and importance of rational and moral in-
struction, both to themselves and to their oflsjirin j
— the beneficial efiects that would accrue to them
even in the present life, and the moral certainty that
they would be directed in the path which leads to
happiness in the life to ccm.e ; — and, in everj' in-
stance, where })ove''ty, or u disinclination to pay
the fees, stood ''. the way, the children should be
educated free of expense to the parents. For this
purpose, about ten millions more, for Great Britain,
would require to be annuall)' ra:.sed, for defraying
the charge of educating- the children of the poor,
and affording salaries for the teachers in every
case where salaries are required. Few parents
would be found who would perseveringly resist
the force of sucll arguments. But, should moral
suasion be insufficient for this purpose, a law might
be passed, as in Prussia, rendering it imperative
on every parent to have !iis children, of a certain
age, regularly attending an appropriate seminary

* Here I allude to the XorLhrrn States of America, paitio-
ularly to Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey, Masiiacb>
setts, ConnecticDt, and Maine.

INEFFICIENCY OF SEVERE PUNISHMENTS.

131

Such a law wouVi not require to be rigidly en-
forced beyond the period of a generation, or even
a period of twenty years. For the cliildren, once
thoroughly trained in morality and religion, and
in all the branches of useful knowledge formerly
6pecified, when they arrived at manhood, and had
families of their own, would require no persuasion
or extraneous excitement to induce them to give
their offspring all the education that can possibly
be obtained. The advantages they themselves
liave experienced from instruction, and the relish
for knowledge they have imbibed, would be in-
stead of a thousand arguments to Lnpel them to

seize upon every mean of instruction vvitliin their
reach ; and any individual who rP*Joned or acted
otherwise, would be considered as a phenomenon
in society. Ignorance and its usual accompani-
ments, obstinacy and self-conceit, are the chief
obstacles which j)revent rational au'juments from
producing their effect, and which i< nder compul-
sory measures, in certain cases, ei pedient. But
when a community has become once thoroughly
enlightened and moralized, the path of duty is
cbarly perceived to be tlie path of interest and
of happiness, and compulsory enactments are ren-
dered unnecessary.

CHAPTER XII.

ON THE UTILITY OF ESTABLISHING SEMINARIES FOR UNIVERSAL EDUCATION

Various insulated remarks on this topic have
been interspersed in the preceding pages, and "tlie
advantages which would result from a more gene-
ral diffusion of knowledge among all ranks,"
have been illustrated in a separate volume.* I
shall, therefore, in this place, advert to only two
or three additional considerations.

I. The establishment ' of schools for universal
instruction, while it counteracted ignorance, and
improved the intellect — would tend to the preven-
tion of crime, and might ultimately extirpate those
dispositions and affections which led to it.

It was lately stated in the Times newspaper, as
the result of a moderate calculation, that there
are 50,000 thieves and pickpockets inland about
London. Accortiing to the statement of an intel-
ligent person, who acted several years as the
teacher of the boy-prisoners in Newgate, — there
are above fifty committals to this prison every
week, on an average, or nearly 3000 in the year.
The persons committed, of course, are not all
new offenders, as the same individuals fi'equently
return again. But, although on this account we
subtract two or three hundreds from this sum,
the black catalogue swells to a dreadful amount
when we add to it the number of prisoners com-
mitted to the penitentiaries, correction-houses,
and other jails of the metropolis. The trials at
the Old Bailey average 2550 in the year, and they
are said to be hurried forward with a|)palling
rapidity; the average time given to each case
being only eight minutes and a half; though
many cannot occupy two, three, or at most five
minutes, as the average time now stated includes
ti'ials that will last a day, and others tiiat occupy
several hours. According to a Report of a Com-
mittee of the House of Commons, there were
confined in prisons and bridewells, during seven
years, ending in 1S31, 122,000 persons accused
of crimes, or at the rate of 17,1:2S per annum.
Of these, 85,000 were convicted of the crimes laid
to their charge, so that 12,142 was the average
amount of the yearly convictitDns. It has been
estimated, in regard to juvenile delinquency, that
more than 1500 boys, in London alone, are em-
ployed in thieving, picking pockets, and commit-
ting all kinds of petty depredations. It is also
found, that crimes, so far from diminishing, are,

• " The Improvement of Society by the Diffusion of
Knowledge," first published in 1833, of which two editions
have beeu pub.isbed in Scotland, and four or five in Ame-
lia.

in this country, regularly increasing. From the
Report of a late Committee of Parliament, it ap-
pears, that, during the last 14 year* they have
increased in the proportion of twenty-four to ten,
that is, they have been far more than doubled in
the course of that short period. These statements
exhibit a frightful view of the extent and the pro-
gress of crimes. Nor is it to be wondered at,
when we consider the present slate of education,
and the manner in which it is conducted — the
principles on which our penal code has been con-
structed, and the manner in which our criminal
laws are executed Oui; penal code, throughout
all its departments, is deeply imbued witli the
spirit of revenge. To produce pain and disgrace
to the criminal appears to be its principal object;
and, in the great majority of instances, it has the
effect of hardening and rendering more desperate
the persons whom it ought to have softened
and reformed. To reform the criminal, to cure
him of the moral disease which led him into
crime, to impart appropriate instruction to his
mind, and to prepare the way for his restoration
to society as a renovated character, are circum-
stances which seem to have been entirely over-
looked in the arrangements connected with pur
criminal legislation. In this respect a dreadful
infataation seems to have seized upon our legisla-
tors, implying a deficiency both of wisdom, of
humanity, and of benevolence. When certain
species of crime are on the increase, laws still
more severe are enacted, and put in execution
with all the pomp and rigor of authority and
revenge. If whipping and imprisonment, toiling
at the tread-wheel, laboring in the hulks, and
transportation beyond seas, are insufBcienl to
arrest the progress of crime, then executions with-
out number are. resorted to, in order to sweep the
culprits at once from the face of the earth. One
enactment after another issues from the source
of power ; one law comparatively mild is can-
celed, and anotber more severe substituted in il3
place; a severe punisliment is sometimes modified
and rendered ie'ss severe; the sentence of death is
commuted into transportation for life, and a
year's labor at tlie tread-mill for seven years'
transportation. Every year new enactments,
laws, and regulations, with alterations and modi-
fications of former laws, issue from the legislative
department of government; but all is of no avail
to stop the progress of immorality and crime.
Nor need wo wonder at such a result; it is p:e-

132

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

cisoly such as we ought to expect from such a
mocie of legislation as now exists. Our state
physicians act nearly in the same manner as the
quack, who, instead of striking at the root of a
80re which is undermining the constitution,
covers it over with a slender t-kin, and leaves the
internal virus to gatjier streiiglh until it break
out in incurable ulcers, throughout every part of
the system. They attempt to lop off the twigs
and branches from the tree of crime, while t]>ey
leave the root and the trunk to break forth afresh
in still greater lu.xuriance. No efficient prcvea-
tice system has yet been arranged to strike at the
root of crime, to prevent its growth, and to make
the machinery of society move onward with
smoothness and liurmony. And, so long as pre-
ventive measures are overlooked, and moral train-
ing neglected, the severest laws that can be framed
will be altogether inefficient to ■ counteract the
criminal projjensities of the human heart.*

Our legislators and political quacks tell us, that
the design of severe punishments is to deter others
from the commission of crimes. But even this
object they are altogether insufficient to accom-
plish; for it is well Jiaown, that in those coun-
tries where punishments are most appalling and
severe, crimes are the most frequent. Even the
dreadful punishment inflicted in Russia on the
pirates and robbers who infested the banks of the
Wolga, who were hung alive on hooks fastened
into their ribs, and left to pine away in agonizing
torture for days together, and in hundreds or
thousands at a time, was insufficient to put a stop
to the robberies it was intended to prevent; and it
has been lately abolished. If we compare the
crimes committed under some of the despotical
governments of Europe, with those committed in
tlie United States, where the laws are compara-
tively mild and equitable, we sJiall find that there
are much fewer crimes committed in the latter
case than in the former. That capital punish-
ments have little influence in deterring from
criminal practices, appears from the circumstance
of robberies being frequently committed among
the crowds assembleii during the time of an exe-
cution. The following example, extracted from
"The Schoolmaster in Newgate," will illustrate
our position: — "One morning a boy," who ap-
pears to have been previously in the habit of pil-
fering, " came into his fatlier's room, and seeing
nothing to eat for breakfast but bread and butter
on the table, he said, 'What! nothing for break-
i.-istl Ahl wait a bit.' He then went out, and
in a quarter of an hour came back with rump
steaks and a pint of rum, beside having money in
his pocket. He had gone out, and stolen a piece
of Irish linen from a shop on Ludgate Hill, took
it to a buyer of stolen goods, and bought the arti-
cles he had brought home, all in the short space'
of fifteen minutes; and this was not an uncom-
mon thing for him to do, although his parents
were not in need. The boy was at length trans-
ported, when he was only fourteen years of age.
He subsequently detailed to me all his practices,
and how he got intO' crime. His parents resided

* America is almost the only country where a considera-
ble degree of attention has been bestowed on this subject.
The inhabitants ofthe United t-tates are' greatly in advance
of European governments in this respect, having established
systems of penitentiary discipline, on enli<;litened princi-
ples,— connected with regular labor and religions instntction
— in Auburn, >~ins-t?in?, Weathersfield, Pitl^bu^^, and other
o'.aces, which have already been attended with the nio»t
beneficial effects. Of" course, several defects still attach
themselves to these establishments; but the plan lately pro-
posed by Mr. Livingston, Secretary of State at Washington,
promises to carry such penitentiaries, in their principle and
epeiatioD, very near to perfection.

in a court running out of the Old Bailey, and ht
had witnessed ccery execution which had taken
place during his short career.^' So much for the
effect of executions, as supposed to deter from
crime; — indeed vuist of the hays cnyayed in crime
appear to have a great pleasure in attending
executions. The author adds: "These boys are
capable of receiving impressions, and are as
susc.'ptible of sentiments of gratitude as any
lord's son, if the proper treatment were used
to draw-them out. It is only by cultivating the
best feelings of our nature, that any human
beings can be improved; all other systems are
fallacious, and founded on gross error." The
same author informs us, that "There are whole
families who had never any other calling but that
of theft — ay, hundreds of such families are now
in being in London who have continued tlie
same course, some for twenty, thirty, or forty
years. One old woman said, last year, when her
seventh son was transported: 'Hal I know not
what I shall do, now poor Ned is going; he was
a good lad to me; and though I say it, he was as
good a hand at his business as any in London.'
' O, then, he was brought up to business,' I re-
plied. She rejoined: 'God bleis you, no! I
thought he had told when you made liis brief that
ours was a right sort of crnss family;' adding,
'and so was their father's father, and good onea
they all were; now there's little Dick, my eldest
son's boy; but I think he'"' never make the man
his father did — he's dull; beside, he's not old
enough quite for any good business yet.' Some
of tliese pathetic mothers will, when warmed
with the cream, speak of the numbers which have
fallen in their families with as much pride and
exultation as a Spartan mother of old used to do,
when numbering her sons who had fallen in their
country's cause. The increwe of these families
is dail}' going on, through intermarriages, and
other ramifications of family connections ; and
thus, in a great measure, is the problem solved,
as to the increase of crime. This is an epitome
of the history of the poor in London and it£ en-
virons, which might have been given of them
forty years ago, and will apply, for ages to come,
unless the legislature grapple with the subject at
once." Such facts evidently show, that neither
severity of punishment, nor any other arrange-
ment y(;t made by our legislators, is adequate to
arrest the progress of crime, and to promote the
reformation of society.

The deficiency of education in our country, as
well as the inefficiency and absurdity of our penal
enactments, will account for the increase of crime.
Instead of one out of four of the population, at-
tending instruction, it is estimated that in Eng-
land only one out of sixteen, in Scotland one out
often, and in Ireland but one out of eighteen, are
receiving scholastic instruction, which, in most
cases, is miserably deficient; "every miserable
garret or hovel in which weakness or decrepitude
j ekes out a wretched subsistence, bj' abusing the
title of teacher — being dignified with the name
of a school." But let us come to particulars. Act
cording to the " Report of the British and Foreign
School Society," for 1833, it is iiitimated that in
the Metropolis alone, above 15U,000 children are
growing u]) without education. In one village,
containing272 families, consisting of 14G7 persons,
only 562 were found able to read. In other dis-
tricts, villages are pointed out containing lOUO,
1500, or 2000 inhabitants, without any efficient
school. Whole families are described as having
reached maturity, without any member of them
being ablo to read a single letter; in short, that

DEFICIENCY OF EDUCATION IN ENGLAND.

laa

many thousands of chilJren are growing up in
utter ignorance, not only of tlii3 elements of learn-
ing, but of all moral and religious obligations. In
the town of Nottingham, it is asserted, in a circu-
lar lately published, that above a tkousand chil-
drenof an age suitable for school, are growing up in
total ignorance. From a canvass lately instituted
by the Committee of the Herefordshire Auxiliary
Bible Society, it appears that out of 41,017 indi-
viduals visited, only 24,222, or little more than
one-half, were able to read.* In the Report of
the British and Foreign School Society for
1831, is the following statement: "Debasing ig-
norance prevails to au extent which could not be
credited, were it not verified by the closest inves-
tigation. The facts which have been elicited re-
specting the moral and intellectual stale of those
counties which have been disgraced by riots and
acts of incendiarism, are truly affecting, and yet
they are but a fair representation of the actual
state of our peasantry. Out of nearly 700 prison-
ers put on trial in four counties, upward of tioo
hundred and sixty were as ignorant as the savages
of the desert — they could not read a single letter.
Of the whole 700 only 150 could write, or even
read with ease; and nearly the whole number
were totally ignorant with regard to the nature
aud obligations of true religion." In the reports
of the same Society for 1832-3 it is stated, " In
September, 1831, out of 50 prisoners put on trial
at Bedford, only four could read. In January,
1833, tlier^ were in the same prison between 50
and 60 awaiting tlieir trials, of whom not more
than ten could read, and even some of these could
not make out the sense of a sentence, though
they knew their letters. At Wisbeach, in the Isle
of Ely, out of 19 prisoners put on trial, only six
were able to read and write, and the capital offen-
ses were committed entirely by persons in a state
of the most debasing ignorance.

Not only in England, but even in Scotland, we
shall find a glaring deficiency in the means of edu-
cation, lu Glasgow, at the last census, there
were between the ages of 5 and 15, 46,000, that is,
between one- fourth and one-fifth of the population
at an age to receive education. But, in point of
fact, it is found that there are only one-fourteenth
at school, or 14,285, reckoning the whole popula-
tion at 200,000; consequently there are 31,715
children absent from the means of instruction,
who ought to be attending them; and it is found
that there are about 6000 living by crime, a
large proportion of whom are young. In the
Abbey parish of Paisley, which contains nearly
one-half of the whole poulation, only one-twentieth
attend school. In this town there are 3000 fami-
lies among whom education does not enter, and
where children are growing up wholly untaught.
" In Perth, the proportion attending school is
under one-fifteenth; and in Old Aberdeen only
onc-twenty-fifth. As to the country districts, in
the 132 parishes in the counties of Banff, Elgin,
and Aberdeen, the average of the whole is one-
eleventh; and there are instances of one-twelftli,
one thirteenth, one fifteenth, and one-twentieth,
in tlie other parislies, taken indiscriminately over
the south and central parts of Scotland. In a
parish in the county of Berwick, the proportion
at school is one-fifteenth; in a parish in the coun-
ty of Dumbarton one thirteenth; and, lest it
should be surmised that this deplorable state as to
education exists only in manufacturing parishes,
where a dense population has recently arisen, it
« proper to state, that several of these instances

* Edinburgh Review, No 117, Oct. 1833.

are in rural parishes; the two worst instances —
those in the counties of Banfl'and Aberdeen — being
entirely country parishes. In the 143 Highland
parishes, out of 500,000, there are 83,000 who
cannot read, aud have no means of learning; and
there are 250,000 who cannot write."* Such is
the deplorable deficiency of education even in
Scotland, which has been so much lauded on ac-
count of its parochial establishments, and the in-
telligence of its population; and therefore we need
not wonder that, even here, immorality and crime
have of late been on the increase.

What is the remedy, then, which will counter-
act, and ultimately subvert the moral evils to
which we have adverted? I answer, without the
least hesitation — Intellectual, moral and Religious
instruction, universally extended — not the form of
education without the substance, not merely pro-
nunciation, ciphering, and conning memorial
tasks, not merely committing to memory, formu-
las, catechisms, speeches, psalms and hymns; but
the imparting of clear and comprehensive ideas, on
all those subjects on which man is interested as a
rational, social, and immortal being. There has
never yet been a complete and efficient system of
education, of this description, established in any
country under heaven; the improvements lately
introduced in the United States, Prussia, Wirtera-
berg, Bavaria, and other places, being only ap-
proximations; and hence society, in such coun-
tries, though greatly meliorated, is not yet half
moralized or reformed. — That such a system of
instruction, universally established and judiciously
conducted, would raise the toneof moral feeling, and
counteract criminal propensities, no sane mind will
presume to call in question. We find, from the facts
above stated, ih&iignorance and crime are intimately
connected — that those who rendered themselves
amenable to the laws of their country, had been
allowed to grow up without instruction — and
that "the capital offenses were committed entire-
ly by persons in a state of the most debasing igno-
rance." Indeed all the cases stated, may be con-
sidered as cases of absolute ignorance; for although
some of the criminals alluded to, "knew their let-
ters, they could not make out the sense of a sentence;"
and the bare circumstance of being able to read,
or, in other words, to pronounce the sounds of words
and characters, is unworthy the name of educa-
tion, though it is too frequently dignified with
this appellation.

If ignorance, then, with all its usual debasing
accompaniments, be one of the chief sources off
crime, we have only to remove the cause in order
to prevent the effect. Wherever the mind has been
thoroughly enlightened and judiciously trained
from infancy in moral habits, the tendency to
criminal practices has been at the same time sub-
dued. "Train up a child in the way he should
go, and when he is old he will not depart from it."
I question if a single instance can oe brought for-
ward inconsistent with this position. (See page
4S.) This likewise holds true in the case of na-
tions as well as individuals — in pro ortion to the
extent and the efficiency of the means cin[)loyed.
In Ireland, there is more crime than in England,
and in England more than in Scotland; and this
is corresponding to the proportion of the means
of instruction in the respective countries. In the
Northern States of America, particularly New
England, where almost the whoJe population is
well educated, there is perhaps less crime and

* The above facts are abridged from Mr. Colqulionn's
statements in Parliament respecting edacatioa iu Scotland —
who deserves no little praise for the labor and attention h»
has bestowed on the subject.

lU

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

misery than in any other country in the world.*
In regard to New York, it is worthy of remark,
in this point of view, that there was no conviction
for murder or any other capital offense, in that
State, comprising two millions of inhabitants —
during the year 1832. Tiie number of schools in
New York, that year, was 9:270; the number
of scholars about 500,000, beside those at-
tending academies and colleges; and the total
expenditure for common schools the same year
1,126,486 dollars, or i;250,.'i29, which is more
than four times the sum which Mr. Colquhoun
says Scotland would require for the supply of edu-
cation, although its population exceeds that of
New York by 400,000. In Prussia, since an im-
proved system of education was established in that
country,"it is found that crimes have been greatly
diminished, and that newspapers, magazines, and
other publications, have, in many places, increased
more than tenfold. Were we possessed of accu-
rate statistical statements of the progress of educa-
tion and of crime in the different countries of Eu-
rope and the States of America, I have no doubt
it would clearly appear, that crime is regularly
diminished nearly in proportion to the progress of
an enlightened and efficient education. But let no
one presume to affirm that the inhabitants of any
country are educated, when little more than the
form of instruction is imparted, and where less than
one-fourth of the population is actually instructed.

• In reference to the city of Boston, the capital of New-
England, Mr.Stuart, in his "Three years in North America,"
has the following remarks, — "This city is clean and well
paved, and seems to he not only entirely free of heggars but of
any population tliat is not apparently living comfortably. 1
did not observe a single individual in the streets of this city
who was not well apparelled, nor an individual of what we
call the lower orders." — "At Boston there is not the sem-
blance ot idleness and filth among the people anywhere. All
are, or seem to be, in the full enjoyment of the necessaries
of life; and all busy, active, and employed. What a con-
trast, in these respects, between this city and the city of
Dublin, which, in July, 1827, I saw crowded with beggars
almost naked, even in the heart of it; and, on the arrival of
a mail-coach in Sackville Street, scrambling for the few half-
pence which the passengers threw among them." — In 1830,
the number of schools in Boston was 235, of which 80 were
public, and 155 private schools, beside about a dozen acad-
emies and classical schools, several of which are exclusive-
ly devoted to fctnalc pupils. The total expense of the schools
in 1829, for tnition, fuel, books, &c., 196,829 dollars, or
about £43,739, which is more than double the grant for edu-
cation voted by parliament in 1833, to be distributed over
the whole of Britain. — Where eJucation is so general and
well-conducted, almost every individual is a reader. Hence
the number of publications in Massachusetts, Connecticut,
&c., exceeds that of any other country. In Boston, there
are regularly published 10 daily newspapers, 7 twice a week
and 26 weekly, being 43 in all — beside Magazines, Reviews
and Religions and Literary Journals of various descriptions;
of whicli there is o(i<; published every half-year; 7 every quar-
ter; 5 every two months, 3 every fortnight, 22 monthly, and
nine annually, including six almanacs; being, in all, 47 pe-
riodicals, in a city containing only 6"2,0(;0 inhabitants.
These periodicals, it is evident, would never be published
and sold, unless jiie inhabitants at large were universally
given to reading.»-And where a habit of reading useful pub-
lications is general, the hydra of Crime will seldom lift up
its head — the mind being preoccupied with nobler pursuits.
As an evidence of the immense quantity of liternry works
distributed in these states, I was lately" inlbrmed by a lite-
rary correspondent in Connecticut, that one of the printers in
Hartford, the capital of the State, containing only 80C0 in-
habitants— had printed during the year 18^3, of Geographies
alone, great and small, no less than 200,000 copies. — The
general state of education in Massachusetts is as follows: —
The whole number of towns in the State is 30.5, and the
whole population 610,014. The population of 99 towns from
which returns were lately made, is 201,681. Of these 57,806
attended public or private schools, which is equal to the
proportion of 1 to 3)^; or three times the number in propor-
tion to the population of those attending schools in.Scotland.
In addition to which it ought to be considered that the edu-
cation in New-England is far more efficient and comprehen-
sive than in this country. — The above statements are select-
ed from the " Am.eriean aaurlerly Register" for May, 1833,
Md the "American Almanac" for 1834.

Had I not already dwelt too long on this topic,
it might have been shown, that the expense of
puniiildng crime, and the losses of property to so-
ciety in consequence of its prevalence, would be
nmre than sufficient to support an efficient national
education. It has been estimated, that the expen-
ses attendant on the imprisonment, tlie convic-
tion, and the punishment of criminals, will aver-
age more than a hundred pounds for each indi-
vidual. According to a statement formerly made,
there are yearly committed to jail 17,428 persons
accused of crimes. At £115 for each, the an-
nual expense of the whole would amount to more
than two millions. If we add to this the interest of
the money expended in the erection and repair of
jails, penitentiaries, bildewells, bulks, and houses
of correction — the salaries of jailers, judges,
bailiffs, and all the other officers connected with
criminal courts, together with the fees of pleaders,
attorneys, &lc. we shall have at least other four
millions. If we were to make a rude estimate
of the loss of property sustained by criminal de-
predations, the amount would be enormous. " I
have been assured," says " The Schoolmaster in
Newgate," " that £200 and even £.300 in a week,
has been obtained by one man and a boy, merely
by abstracting the money in shops which is kept
in tills and desks." But supposing, on an aver-
age, only £120 per annum, as the amount of
depredation committed by each thief and pick-
pocket— the number of such characters in Lon-
don being estimated at 50,000, the loss sustained
by such depredations will amount to six millions;
and if we reckon the depredations in all the other
parts of the kingdom to amount only to the same
sum, we shall have twelve millions of loss sus-
tained by depredations on property. The police
establishment in London costs above £200,000
a-year; and if we take into account the expenses
connected with all the other police establishmentJ
of the nation, which may be reckoned at seven
times that sum, we shall have an ainount of
£1,400,000 on this head: — whereas, less than one-
fifth of that sum would be sufficient for the pre-
servation of order among a renovated population
Many other items might have been stated, but the
above sums, amounting to nearly twenty millionSt
would be more than sufficient for carrying forward
a system of national education on the most ample
and splendid scale. It is therefore madness in the
extreme to attempt any longer to repress crime
by such a machinery as has hitherto been em-
ployed, while we neglect the only efficient means
by which its operations may be controlled, and its
principle extirpated. The very principle of econ-
omy, if no higher motive impel, should induce us
to alter our arrangements, and to build on a new
foundation. It was lately said to the public of
Edinburgh, with great propriety, when solicited
to contribute to the erection of a school, — "Give
your pence to infant schools," (I may add, to well
conducted seminaries of all descriptions), "and
save your pounds on police establishments, jails,
bridewells, transportations, and executions." In
this way we should be enabled, at the same time,
both to imi)rove society, and to increase our na-
tional resources.

II. Such an education as now proposed, uni-
versally extended, would improve the mental
faculties, and raise the character of man far beyond
the level to which it has hitherto attained. During
almost the whole of the past periods of this world's
history, the human faculties have been seldom
exerted with vigor, except for the purpose of pro-
motino' mischief, procuring the means of animal
subsistence, or indulging in childish and degrading

UTILITY OF UNIVERSAL EDUCATION.

135

nmusemenfs. Even in the present enligldened
age, as it has been termed, wliat are the pursuits
which fascinate and absorb almost the wiiolo atten-
tion of the higiier classes of society? Horse-
racing, fox-hunting, prize-fighting, gambling, du-
eling, coach-driving, '•'steeple-chases," slaughter-
ing moor-fowl "o'er hill and dale," masquerades,
theatrical amusements, and dissipations of all
kinds. And what are the employments of a
great proportion of the lower ranks, beside their
Btated occupations ? Cock-figliting, gambling,
sauntering about the streets, indulging iu drunk-
enness, licentiousness, and cruel sports and diver-
sions— while they remain in ignorance of all that
is grand and beautiful in the Creator's works,
and feel no relish for intellectual enjoyments.
Even the acquirements and pursuits of professed
Christians are far inferior to the standard of intel-
ligence and morality which religion prescribes;
for we behold, even among this class, ignorance
of most subjects with which every rational and
religious being ought to be acquainted, combined
witJi hatred of all religious sects but their own,
<i'ith wealth-engrossing dispositions, and "covet-
ousness, which is idolatry."

What a pitiful picture of jgnorance and degra-
dation would the inhabitants of this world present
to the view of intelligences of a higher order!
Were an inhabitant of the planet Saturn to wing
his flight to this globe of ours, and were he ca-
pable of communicating his sentiments in lan-
guage intelligible to man, we should expect to
learn from him a minute detail of the histoiy and
geography of the globe to which he belonged, of
fl:e peculiar phenomena of nature in that region,
of tlie various aspects of the moons, the diversi-
fied appearances of the magnificent rings which
encircle that world, and descriptions of the differ-
ent scenes of nature, the operations of art, the
sciences cultivated by its inhabitants, and the
plan of God's moral government among them;
and, doubtless, our curiosity to become acquainted
with the physical and moral arrangements of
another world, would be abundantly gratified.
But were an inhabitant of our globe, from among
the lower or even from among many of the higher
classes, to be transported to one of the planets,
what account could he give of the arts and sci-
ences, of the history, statistics, and natural scenery
of our world? What could he .say of its conti-
nents, rivers, islands, oceans, and volcanoes; its
mountain scenery, and the properties of its at-
mosphere, of the variegated surface of the moon,
and the peculiarities of its motions, of the history
of its inhabitants, or the progress they had made
in knowledge? What description could he give
of the arts and inventions of modern times, of
the construction of the instruments by which
we view uistant objects, and by which we
penetrate into the scenes invisible to the unas-
sisted eye, of the principle of air-balloons, steam-
engines, air-pumps, mechanical powers, electri-
cal machines, or galvanic batteries? Above all,
what could he tell them of the moral dispensa-
tions of the Creator toward our world, and of
what is contained in the revelations of his word?
He ?ould perhaps tell them that there were hills,
and rivers, and four-footed boasts, and men that
were employed in killing each other; but could
convey no precise idea of anything in which this
world diflered from that to which he had been
transported. He would be looked down upon
with pity as a kind o( iunus naturce uuworthy
cf the name of a rational being. Of 800 millions
of men that people our globe, there are at least
/50 millions of this description, who could give

little more information respecting the peculiari-
ties of our world to the irdiabitants of another
planet, than they could receive from an elephant
or a beaver, if such cfeatures had the faculty o''
coninmnicating their ideas.

Such is the present character of the great
majority of this world's population — and how is
it to be elevated to a standard befitting a rational
and immortal intelligence? Only by the universal
extension of such an education as that, the out-
lines of which we have faintly sketched. The
communication of knowledge is the first part of
that process by which the human character is to
be raised and adorned, as light was the first agent
•employed in the arrangement of the material cre-
ation; and this knowledge must, in every in-
stance, be conjoined with religious principle and
moral conduct, otherwise it will only prove tho
intflligence of demons. Man, although, in one
point of view, he is allied to the beasts of the
field, in another, he is allied to superior natures,
and even to the Deity himself; and therefore
ought to be rendered fit for associating with such
intelligences — for receiving from them communi-
cations of knowledge and felicity, and for impart-
ing to them similar benefits in return. If man is
destined to a future world, as we profess to believe,
he will, doubtless, mingle with beings of various
orders during that interminable existence which
lies before him; and \\\s preparation for such inter-
courses will, in a great measure, depend on the
training he receives, and the principles he im-
bibes, during his sojourn in this sublunary sphere.
There is no essential difference between men on
earth, and the highest created beings in any region
of the universe, but what consists in the degree
of knowledge, and the degree of holiness, or moral
perfection, which they respectively possess. When
man is endowed with a competent measure of
these qualifications, he is fitted for the highest
degree of social enjoyment, both in this life and
in the world to come; and therefore, in so far as
we refuse to lend our aid to the cause of univer-
sal instruction, or set ourselves in opposition to
it, we do everything in our power to debase the
character of our fe!low-men, to prevent them from
rising in the scale of intelligence, and to interpose
a barrier to their present and future happiness.
I might likewise have shown the utility of uni-
versal education, from the tendency.it would have
to induce the mass of mankind to lend their aid
in promoting every scheme which tends to ad-
vance the improvement of the social state of
man; the cultivation of the soil, the forming of
spacious roads and foot-paths, canals, rail-roads,
and bridges; the universal illumination of towns,
villages, and the country at large, by gas-lights
and other contrivances; the establishment of ex-
peditious conveyances in every direction by sea
and land; and the carrying forward to perfection
the various arts and sciences. But as I have else-
where adverted a little to some of these objects, I
shall only add, in the meantime, that the value
and security of property in any country, depend, in
a great measure, upon the intelligence and nwrality
of its population. If the whole mass of society
were thoroughly enlightened and moralized, we
should no longer hear of "strikes" taking place
among workmen, of servants embezzling the pro-
perty of their masters, or of combinations being
entered into in opposition to the interests of their
employers. Every, man's house would be his
castle; and we should lie down to rest in the
evening in perfect security from tho incendiary,
the insidious pilferer, and the midnight depreda-
tor. Tills security has already been partially felt

136

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

in those countries where an enlightened educa-
tion is general. Mr. Stuart, when describing the
New Englanil States, retnarks, that "robberies
very seldom happen in tluit country, and that the
doors of liousjs are frequently left unlocked during
night" — the inhabitants having little fear of either
depredations or annoyance from their neighbors.

III. Intellectual and religions education, uni-
versally extended, in combination with every
Other Christian exertion, would be more efficient
than any other arrangement hitherto made for
hastening tlie approach of the Millennium. That
a period is about to arrive, when knowledge, holi-
ness, and joy, shall distinguish the inhabitants of
the world in a degree far surpassing what we
have yet experienced, is clearly predicted in the
oracles of inspiration. By these oracles we are
informed, that "AU the ends of the world shall re-
member and turn to the Lord, and all the kindreds
of the nations worship before him" — that " the
earth shall bo full of the knowledge of Jehovah,
as the waters cover the seas," — and that " all shall
know him, from the least to the greatest," — that
" the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all
flesh see it together," — that " the heathen shall
be given to Messiah for his inheritance, and the
uttermost ends of the earth for his possession," —
that "all kings shall fall down before him, all
nations serve him, and the whole earth be filled
with his glory," — that during the continuance of
this happy era,-" wars shall cease to the ends of
the earth, and the nations shall delight themselves
in the abundance of peace," — that "the earth
shall yield her increase, and be fat and plente-
ous,"— that the inhabitants "shall build houses
and inhabit them, and plant vineyards and eat
the fruit of them, and shall long enjoy the work
of their hands," — that "they shall go out with
joy and be led forth in peace," — that " there shall
be nothing to hurt or destroy," and that " righte-
ousness and praise shall spring forth before all
nations." In what manner, then, may we con-
ceive that such predictions will be accomplished?
Are we to suppose that, by one appalling act of
Omnipotent power, the wicked will at once be
swept from the face of the earth, and that the
physical aspect of our globe will be instantly
changed and renovated by the same Almighty
energy, as at the first creation? Or, are we to
conclude, that this auspicious era will be intro-
auced in consistency with the established laws of
nature, and by the agency of human beings,
under the influence and direction of the Divine
Spirit? For the former supposition we have no
evidence whatever in any of the intimations given
of this event in the Scriptures, and it would be
inconsistent with all that we know of the by-past
operations of the Divine government; as might
be clearly shown, by an induction of facts and
arguments of various kinds, were this the proper
place to enter into such a discussion. If, then,
we admit the latter conclusion, it will follow,
that the Millennium will be introduced by a
concentration of the moral and intellectual ener-
gies of mankind directed to this great object — by
following out those plans which are calculated to
promote the renovation of the world — by the con-
secration of a far greater proportion of our trea-
sures for this purpose '■.han has ever yet been
thought of — and by dir'.cting our eyes to the
Supreme Disposer of events for that wisdom
which is "profitable to direct us" In all our ar-
rangements, acknowledging Him as the original
eource of all our activities, and who alone can
render them successful.

What, then, are those means by which the

moral world may be renewed " in knowledge and
holiness, after the image of Him who created it?"
Undoubtedly the efficient training of the young
from the earliest period of infancy to the age of
manhood, is one of the first and most important
steps to the thorough renovation of the world — a
subject which has hitherto been egregiously
trifled with, and almost overlooked, in our Chris-
tian arrangements. We have all along laid too
much stress upon the mere preaching of the Gos-
pel, or, in other words, the delivery of a piece
of human composition to a mixed multitude, the
one-half of whom are unprepared by previous
instruction either to understand or to appreciate
its truths; and hence the comparatively feeble
effects which have been produced on the moral
characters of men; hence the confused concep-
tions entertained of Divine truth; and hence it
happens, in certain cases, that the truth delivered
rebounds from the heart like a ball of cork from
a wall of adamant, because it- has not been pre-
viously prepared for its reception; and, to palliate
our remissness and inactivity, we have sometimes
had the presumption to ascribe this eflfect to the
withholding of Divine influence. Let it not,
however, be imagined that I mean to discourage
the preaching of the gospel. No : nothing is
further from my intention. Let the Gospel be
proclaimed still more extensively, and with far
more energy and pathos than have ever yet been
displayed; and let missionary exertions, and every
other Christian activity now in operation, be car-
ried forward with still greater vigor. But let our
chief attention be directed to the preparation of
the minds of the young for the reception of the
truths of religion — to invigorate their rational
powers and their principles of action, and to
counteract, on the first appearance, every evil
propensity, — and then we may expect that the
"Word of God" will soon run like a mighty river
through the world, and " have free course and be
glorified," enlightening the understanding, puri-
fying the affections, and " bringing into captivity
every thought to the obedience of Christ." An
intellectual, moral, and religious* education, uni-
versally extended, constitutes the essence of the
Millennium; it is one of its chief characteristics,
and will form the foundation of all the happiness
which will then be enjoyed; for it is one of the
distinguishing circumstances connected with that
period, that " all shall know Jehovah, from the
least to the greatest." But how can we expect
that the superstructure can be reared, if the foun-
dations be not laid, or that " the desert will rejoice
and blossom as the rose," while the hand of in-
dustry is never applied to root up the briers and
thorns, and to cultivate the soil?

Is it inquired, when may we expect the Millen-
nium to commence? I reply, just when we please.
Are we willing that it should commence in the
present age? We have the means in our power,
if we choose to apply them. In the course of
forty years from this date the Millennium might
not only be commenced, but in a rapid progress
toward the summit of its glory, — provided we are
willing at this moment to concentrate all our moral
and intellectual energies, and to devote all our

* In this and various odier parts of tliis %v-ork, I have nsed
the words moral and religious, in comidiance with common
usage, as if tliey conveyed distinct ideas. But I conceive
that the ideas they express are so intimately connected that
they can never be separated. There can be no true moral-
ity but what is founded On religion, or the principles of Chris-
tianity; and religion can have no real existence but as con-
nected with the morality of thfe Bi Je — the promotion of
which, in principle and conduct, is the great object of all th«
revelations of Heaven,

EXERTIONS PRECEDING THE MILLENNIUM.

137

tuperjluous wealth, or at least a tenth part of it, to
the Jurtherunce of this object. Nay, in the course
of liulf that period, we should have a generation
rising up in knowledge and holiness, far superior
to any race which has appeared in the world
during the ages that are past. For, were we just
now to connnence a universal system of infant
instruction, and continue the course through all
the higher departments formerly specified — in the
course of twenty years all the children who are
now about two years of age (if continued in life)
would have arrived at the age of twentij-two, in an
enlightened and moralized state, and would form
the most numerous and influential portion of the
population, and give a tone to all ranks of society.
Even the physical aspect of the globe, within the
course of another century, might be renovated,
and adorned with everything tliat is beautiful and
sublime. The wealth tliat has been expended in
the madness of warfare, even by civilized nations,
during a century past, liad it been appropriated to
pliilanthropic improvements, would have been
sufficient to have cultivated all the desolate wastes
of cur globe, to have made its wilderness like
Eden, and its deserts "like the garden of the
Lord," — in short, to have transformed it into
something approaching to a terrestrial paradise.
We have it in our power to accomplish all this in
the century to come, if we are willing to devote
our energies and our treasures to the purposes of
philanthropy and general benevolence. •

But, is it of any avail to address the majority
of our fellow-men on this subject? No : we
might as soon speak to the tides and currents of
the ocean, and expect them to stop at our com-
mand, as to expect that the current of licentious-
ness, folly, ambition, and avarice, in v.'liich three-
fourths of mankind are carried headlong, will
Btop its course, and diverge into the channel of
religion, philanthropy and beneficence. But I
trust there is still a select band of Christian phi-
lanthropists who only require to be. convinced of
the necessity of extraordinary exertion, and to re-
ceive an additional stimulus, in order to excite
them to a godlike liberality. What sacrifice
would it be to a man who has £500 a year to de-
vote annually £100 to the purposes of religious
and intellectual improvement ? to another who
has £1000 a year to devote £300, and to an-
other who has £10,000 to allot £4000 annually
for the same object ? It would not deprive any
one of thejn either of the necessaries or of the
luxuries of life, or of anything that contributes to
comfort, honor or sensitive enjoyment. It is now
high time that the sincerity of a profession of
Christianity should be tried by the test of pounds,
shillings and dollars. We have beheld numerous
instances of ministers and others aspiring after
the highest stations and the largest salaries, in
order to increase their incomes. Let us now see
what sacrifices they will make of the wealth
which God has given them for the purpose of pro-
moting his glory in the world. Let us see whether
God or Mammon, whether the promotion of the
best interests of mankind or " the lust of the
flesh and the pride of life," rule supreme in their
hearts. That man who refuses to come forward
with his wealth, when it is proved to be requisite
for the purposes alluded to, ought not to assume
the name of a Christian. He has never felt the in-
fluence of that divine maxim of our Saviour, "It
is more blessed to give than to receive." He vir-
tually declares, that "laying up treasure on earth,"
j)roviding fortunes for his family, keeping up a
Certain rank in society, and living in luxurious
abundance, are matters of far greater importance

than the approach of the Millennium and the re-
generation of the world. If a man is in doubt
with respect to the existence of religious princi-
ple in his soul, I know not a better test than this,
by whicli to try the sincerity of his Christian pro-
fession : Is he willing, at the call of God, to
give up a portion of his possessions to His service,
and even "to forsake all," to prove himself "a
follower of Christ V There is a certain class of
religionists who are continually whining about
the low sta-te of religion and the wickedness that
prevails among aU ranks; and there is another
class who are frequently talking about the calcu-
lations that have been made respecting the predic-
ted period "of "the latter-day glory;" but when you
ask any of these classes to put their hands in their
pockets, in order to supply means for improving
society and hastening the approach of that glory,
they will rebound from you as the north poles of
two magnets rebound from each other, and will
tell you, with an air of apathy and spiritual pride,
"that the spirit is not yet poured out, that man can
do notliing of himself, and that God's time is
not yet come." If Christians were universally to
act upon such views, the predicted glory of fu-
ture ages would never be realized. " It is not for
us to know the times and the seasons which the
Father hath reserved in his own power;" but we
know that it is our present duty to consecrate to
the service of God and the good of mankind all
the powers and faculties with whicli we are in-
vested, all the energies we are capable of exerting,
and all the treasures not essential to our comfort,
to carry forward the building of the Spiritual
Teinple", and to " prepare the way of the Lord."
In short, it is now more than time that true
Christians were rising above the false maxims of
the world, the calculating spirit. of commerce, the
degrading views of the sons of avarice, and the
pursuit of earthly honors and distinctions, and
acting in conformity to the noble character by
which they wish to be distinguished. Let them
come forward in the face of the v/orld, and declare
by their conduct, and their noble generosity, that
svhile they enjoy and relish the bounties of the
Creator, theydespise the vain pageantry of fash-
ionable life, with all its baubles, and are determin-
ed to consecrate to rational and religious objects
all the superfluities of wealth which have been
hitherto devoted to luxury and pride. Every
Christian hero should be distinguished in society
(whether he be sneered at or applauded by the
men of the world) by his determined opposition
to worldly principles and maxims — by his abhor-
rence of avarice — by his active exertions in the
cause of pliilanthropy — and by the liberal portion
of his substance which he devotes to the cause oj£
education and religion: and the Church ought to
exclude from her pale all who refuse, in this way,
to approve themselves the disciples of Jesus. Bet-
ter have a Church composed of a select band of a
hundred " right-hearted men," ardent, generous,
and persevering, than a thousand lukewarm pro-
fessors, who are scarcely distinguishable from the
world, and who attempt to serve both God and
Mammon. Such a select band of Christian he-
roes, in different parts of the Universal Church,
" shining as lights in the world, in the midst of a
perverse generation," and exerting all their influ-
ence and power in counteracting ignorance and
depravity, and promoting the diffusion of every
branch of useful knowledge, would do more to
prepare the way for the approach of the Millenni-
um, than ten times the number of a mixed multi-
tude of professing Christians who are sui k into a
state of apathy, and have little more of religioa

138

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND

than tlie name. Their influence would be power-
ful in every circle in wliich they moved — they
would make tlie ricii professors of religion ashamed
of tlieir parsimony and their indolence — they
would iitduce the lukewarm Cliristian either to
come cheerfully forward witli Jiis wealth and in-
fluence, or give up the profession of religion alto-
gether, and take his stand at once among the men
of the world; and they would stimulate the young
generation around them to consecrate the vigor of
tJieir lives to such holy activities. They would
doubtless be sneered at by the licemtious, the ava-
ricious, and the gay; and even by the proud and
wealthy ecclesiastic, who has never imbibed the
spirit of a Neff or an Obcrlin; but every one who
is conscious that " his witness is in heaven, and
his record on high," will look down with a be-
coming indifference on the scorn of such men,
and "hold on his way rejoicing." "Who, then, is a
wise man among us, and endowed with know-
ledge,"— " to whom God hath given riches, and
the power to use them?" — let him come forward
with his stores of knowledge and his treasures of
wealth, and dedicate them to the service of the
Most High; and bring along with him a few more
congenial minds to embark in the same underta-
king, and great shall be his reward. " For they
that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the
firmament, and they that turn many to righteous-
ness as the stars forever and ever."

It is said, that when the town of Calais, after a siege
of twelve months, wished to surrender to Edward
HI, he demanded that si.x of the most considera-
ble citizens should be sent to him, carrying the
keys of the city in their hands bareheaded and
barefooted, with ropes about their necks, to be
sacriliced to his vengeance. This cruel demand
threw the inhabitants into a state of unutterable
consternation, and they found themselves incapa-
ble of coming to any resolution in so distressing
a situation. At last, one of tlie principal inhabi-
tants, Eustace de St. Pierre, stepped forth, and de-
clared himself willing to encounter deatli for the
safety of his friends and companions; another,
animated by his example, made a like generous
offer; a third and a fourth presented themselves to
the same fate, and the whole number was soon
completed. Shall such a sacrifice as this, extend-
ing even to life itself, be cheerfully made; and
shall we not find as many Christians in every
town willing to sacrifice the third, or fourth, or at
least the tenth part of their property for the good
of mankind, and the regeneration of society?
The offerings, in ancient times, for the service of
God, far exceeded anything that has yet been at-
tempted under the Christian economy. The gold
and silver alone, offered for the rearing of the tab-
ernacle, amounted to upward of £300,000 of the
present value of British money, beside the brass,
the shittim wood, the linen, the embroidered cur-
tains, the onyx stones and jewels, and the regular
tithe which every Israelite annually paid of all
that he possessed. When the temple was about to
be erected, David along with his ])riDces and cap-
tains, contriliuted no less than 108,000 talents of
gold, and 1 ,017,000 talents of silver, which amount-
ed to more than 900 millions of pounds sterling; and
the expense of the sacrifices offered on this occa-
sion amounted to several hundred thousand
pounds. — 1 Chron. xxii, 14, — xxix, 3-9. These
offerings were a tribute of gratitude to God, the
original bestower of every enjoyment; and, hence,
David, when he blessed the Lord before all the
congregation, declared, "All things come of thee,
and of thine own have ice (jiven thee. All this store
we have prepared to build an house, for thy holy

name cometh of thee, and is all thine owny The
tithes, or tenth of their income, were designed as
an acknowledgment that they had received their
estates from his free gift, and held them by no
other tenure but his bounty. They were a kind
of quit-rent annually paid to tlie Great Proprietor
of the soil, for the maintenance of his worship,
and the instruction of tlie People. And why
should not the estates of Christians be viewed in
the same light, and a similar portion of them be
devoted to the same purpose? The tenth of the
incomes of the inhabitants of Britain would an-
nually amount to many millions; yet all that has
been collected by the British and Foreign Bible
Society, the most popular of all our religious iu-
stitutions, during thirty years of its operation, is
only about two millions of pounds. Notwith-
standing, however, the general apathy which ex-
ists on this subject, I am disposed to indulge the
hope, that, ere long, thousands of Christians iu
different parts of the Church, will come cheerful-
ly forward and consecrate, not merely a tenth, but
iu many instances, one-half of their substance,
for carrying forward the designs of Providsnce
for the reformation of the world. Such offerings
are nothing more than what is requisite for ac-
complishing this grand object; and when such a
spirit of liberality becomes general in the Chris-
tian Church, we may confidently expect that the
happy era is fast approaching, when the liglit of
divine truth shall shed its radiance on every land
— when " The glory of Jehovah shall be revealed,
and all flesh shall see it together — when the wil-
derness and the solitary place shall be made glad,
and when righteousness and praise shall spring
forth before all nations."

.The inhabitants of New England, I am confi-
dent, will be among the first to set such ^ noble
example to every other nation. From small be-
ginnings, they liave advanced more rapidly in
religious and intellectual improvement than any
other people under heaven; but they have not yet
attained t!ie acme of improvement, "neither are
they already perfect " — but " must press forward
to the mark," without "looking back" with self-
complacency on the advancement they have hith-
erto made, and " stretch forward toward those
things which are before." There are, perhaps,
few circumstances in the history of mankind
more remarkable than the landing of the perse-
cuted pilgrims of New England on the rock at
Plymouth, and the important consequences which
have been the result of the settlement of that
small and distressed colony. About a hundred
individuals, driven from their native land by the
demoii of persecution, landed at tliat point, near
the middle of winter in 1620, with prospects the
most dismal and discouraging — fatigued by a long
and boisterous voyage — forced on a dangerous and
unknown shore on the approach of the most
rigorous season of the year — surrounded with
hostile barbarians, without the least hope of hu-
man aid — worn out with toil and suffering, and
without shelter from the rigor of the climate; so
that, in the course of three or four months, forty-
six of their number were carried off by mortal
sickness. Yet this small band of Christian heroes
laid the foundation of all the improvements in
knowledge, religion, liberty, agriculture and the
arts, that distinguish the New England States;
which now contain a population of nearly two mil-
lions of souls. Through their instrumentality, and
that of their successors, "the wilderness has been
turned into fruitful fields," hundreds of cities
and towns have been founded, colleges and splen-
did temples have been reared, civil and religioua

PAROCHIAL SYSTEM.

139

liberty established on a solid basis, the education
of the young, and mental and moral improve-
ment, promoted to an extent beyond that of any
other nation upon earth. These circumstances
furnish a proof of wiiat a small body of perseve-
ring and well-principled men can achieve in the
midst of dirticullies and discouragements, and a
powerful motive to excite us to engage in every

holy activity. And I trust, the descendants of
these pilgrims, anijnated by their noble .example,
will rise to still greater bights of intelligence and
virtue, until knowledge become universal — until
moral evil be completely undenninod — until "right-
eousness run dov.'iu theh' streets like a river," and
until the influence of such moral movements
be felt amons all the families of the earth.

CHAPTEK XIII.

PRINCIPLES ON WHICH A NATIONAL SYSTEM OF EDUCATION SHOULD BE

ESTABLISHED.

In attempting to establish any new system,
however excellent, many obstai^les and impedi-
ments j)resent themselves, arising from the feel-
ings, interests, and preconceived opinions of
mankind. In establishing such a system of edu-
cation as we hava described, one great obstacle
would arise in this country from the interests
and conflicting opinions of religious sectaries.
Religion, which was intended by its Author to
introduce harmony, and to promote affection
among mankind^ woald, in all probability, be
brought forward to interrupt the noblest efforts
of benevolence ii. the cause of universal instruc-
tion. Every sec 'ary would be apt to insist on its
peculiar dogmar being recognized, and especially
those which are more directly patronized by the
State would prefer a double claiui for the superin-
tendence and control of all the arrangements
connected witli the education of the young. Such
conflicting elements and party interests iiave al-
ready prevented tlie establishment of institutions
which might have proved beneficial to the rising
generation, and would, doubtless, mingle them-
selves with any future discussions or deliberations
that might take place o:; this subject.

In the year 1820-21, Mr. Brougham (now Lord
Brougham) introduced a Bill into the House of
Commons, entitled, " A Bill for better providing
the means of education for his Majesty's sub-
jects," which was imbued willi a spirit of illibe-
rality and intolerance which would have disgraced
the darkest ages of the Christian era. The fol-
lowing were some of its leading provisions. " 1st,
No person is capable of being elected as School-
master by the Parish, who does not produce a
certificate that he is a member of the Church of
England, as by law estahlkhi'd." In this sweeping
regulation, it is roundly declared, that, among all
the six or seven millions of respectable dissenters;
that, among all that class of men who have de-
scended from the congrejiations formed by Baxter,
Owen, Watts, Doddridge, and a host of other
illustrious Divines, renowned for their sterling
piety and learning; that, among the whole of that
class of men who, for the last forty years, have
shown more disinterested zeal and activity for the
instruction of the poor than any other class in
the British empire! there is not a single individual
that deserves to be intrusted with the education
of youth! and for no other reason than because
they have dared to think for themselves, and
refused to submit to ceremonies and ordinances
which are not appointed in the word of God. In
another regulation, power is given to the clergy-
man of the parish " to call before him the person
chosen by the parish, and to examine hiin touch-

ing his fitness for the office, and if he shall not
approve of the person chosen, he may reject his
appointment," as often as he pleases, without
assigning any reason, save his own will and plea-
sure, and from this decision there was to be no ap-
peal! which rendered nugatory, and little short
of a mere farce, the previous election made by tha
qualified householders of the parish. After the
teacher was supposed to be approved of and fixed
in his situation, a set of arbitrary regulations and
restraints were imposed upon him by " the rector,
curate, or other minister of the parish." " He may
at all times enter the scliool, examine the scholars,
question the master touching his government of
the school: may direct, from time to time, what
portions of Scripture shall be read, either for
lessons or for waiting in the school, which direction
the master is hereby required to follow." The
teacher was also enjoined " to use s'-lect passages
(of the Bible) for lessons, whereby to teach read-
ing and writing, and shall teach no other book
of religion without consent of the resident min-
ister of the parish where such school is held, and
shall vse no form of prayer or worship in the said
school except the Lord's Prayer, or other select
passages of the Scriptures aforesaid." Such regu-.
lations and injunctions reduced the teacher to
something very little superior to a more machine,
or to a slave in the hands of a clerical despot.
He was every day liable to be degraded and in-
sulted in the presence of his scholars, whenever
a haughty clergyman took it into his head to enter
the school, and to display his magisterial and
consequential airs. By the regulations enacted
in this Bill, the children of Dissenters were like-
wise degraded. For, although they were to be
permitted to attend the schools to be established,
yet they were to be distinguished, in many re-
spects, as speckled birds, different from tiiose of
the immaculate churchman, and compelled "to
learn the liturgy and catechism of the Church,
and, to attend the divine service of the Ciiurch
of England," unless their parents "proved, them-
selves to he Dissenters from the Established Church,
and notified the same to the master." Such is
only a specimen of the spirit and enactments
which pervaded "Brougham's Education Bill;"
enactments repugnant to the views of every
liberal mind, and pregnant with bigotry and in-
tolerance. It was a fortunate circumstance that
the bill never passed the House of Commons;
othervvisc, it might have prevented the establish-
ment of a liberal and efficient system of educa-
tion for a century to come.*

* Lord Drougliaro iias displayed more enlightened views on
the sul>ject of education, ia his sjtsech delivered iu the Uoase

140

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

It IS to be hoped, that, in any future delibera-
tions on this subject, a more noble and liberal
Bjiirit will be displaj-ed in the arrangements con-
nected with education. Indeed, no efficient sys-
tem of national instruction can be established on
an exclusive or sectarian principle. Persons of
all religious denominations ought to be eligible as
teachers, visitors, superintendents, and members
of .school-committees, on the sole ground of their
intelligence, piety, and moral conduct — and of
the knowledge they have acquired of the true
principles of education, and the mode in wjiich
they should be applied. As, in every country,
numerous classes are to be found differing in sen-
timent respecting subordinate j)oints in religion,
it couH not be expected that they would coine
forward either witli voluntary subscriptions, or
submit, without reluctance, to be taxed for such
establishments, if any particular sectary were to
be invested with the solo Superintendence, and all
others excluded from a share in the deliberations
and arrangements connected with their operation.
Such an arrangement would be an act of glaring
inju.stice to the parties excluded, since they have
an equal right of management on the ground of
their subscriptions, or of the taxation to which
they would be subjected; it would foster invidious
distinctions between the different parts of the same
community; it woidd tend to prevent indepen-
dence of thinking on religious subjects, and to
promote a spirit of hypocrisy and sycophancy in
inducing persons to sacrifice the dictates of con-
science to the emoluments of office; it would
throw into a state of unmerited degradation a
large portion of the most respectable characters
in Christian society — for eminent piety, intelli-
gence, and benevolence, are not confined to any
section of the Christian church; it would nourish
a spirit of alienation among the different portions
of religious society, which has too long rankled
in the human breast; it would prevent some of
the most worthy and enlightened characters from
coming forward as candidates for the office of in-
tructors; it would interpose a barrier to that
harmony and affection which should subsist
among. all ranks and denominations of society;
and would ultimately frustrate, to a very great
extent, the grand objects which an enlightened
education is intended to accomplish. Nothing
but .a spirit of selfishness and ambition, of bigotry
and intoleraace, inconsistent with the harmony
of society and the principles of our holy religion,
will again attempt to establish education on such
illiberal and exclusive principles. In this point
of view, we cannot avoid reprobating an attempt
which is now making by certain individuals, to
extend the system of parochial schools, so that
there shall be no occasion for teachers of any
other description. We object to this object on the
following grounds: 1. Because it is assumed that
the education generally imparted in parochial
schools, and the plan on which instruction has
usually been communicated, are to be considered
as patterns of excellence, and, consequently re-
quire only to be more generally extended. In the
preceding pages, we have endeavored to show,

of Lords, on the 21st of ^lay, 183.5, and the resolutions fonnd-
ej upon it, than he did in his " Education Bill" of 1R2I, or
even in 18:i3, when he declared, that there are suftfcient
means of education in England, and that "he had become a
convert to the opinions of those who thought it would bo un-
Vfise to disturb a state of things which produced such admi-
rable results." It is to be hoped, for the good of the nation,
that his lordship's suggestions will soon-be carried into ef-
fect; and that the principles on which a national system of
education is established, will be such as to meet the appro-
bation of ar eulightened and leligions public.

that, in common with most other schools in this
country, the parochial system is miserably defective
and inefficient as to the great objects which an
enlightened education ought to etnbrace; and, iu
proof of this, we need only appeal to the igno-
rance and vice which have hitherto prevailed, and
still prevail, among the great mass of the popula-
tion. That parochial schools have been, on tin
whole, of considerable advantage to Scotland,
none will deny. But they have not produced the
one-tenth part of the moral and intellectual effects
they might have done, had they been established
on a more liberal and enlightened basis; and, con
sequently, were the system to be extended, if
would tend to prevent, for an indefinite period,
the establishment of a more, enlightened, compre-
hensive, and efficient system of moral and intellec-
tual instruction. Beside, there is not one out of a
hundred of the parochial school-houses furnished
with the apartments, apparatus, and other accom-
modations, requisite for carrying forward a plan
of intellectual instruction. 2. We object, on tho
ground of the cxclusioe principles on rchich paro-
chial schools are conducted. They are considered
as so intimately connected with the established
church, that no one but a menfber of that church
is eligible as a parish teacher. Consequently, iu
attempting to extend the parocliial system until it
is supposed capable of affording instruction to the
whole population, it is virtually declared, that,
among all the dissenters in this countrj', amoun-
ting to more than one-third of the population,
and whoso moral and inteHectual character stands
as high as that of the other two-thirds, there is not
one who ought to be intrusted with the education
of youth, however respectable the qualifications
he may possess. Those who countenance a prin-
ciple of this kind have, surely, never studied the
principles of religious liberty or of natural justice,
nor opened their eyes to " discern the signs of the
times." In so far as the individuals alluded to
have it for their object to improve the plan of pub-
lic instruction, and to raise the qualifications of
the teachers, we wish them every success; but
the community will certainly pause before it gives
its sanction to a principle which would deprive
nearlj- one-half of the nation of all interest and
superintendence in regard to an object in which
they are all eqiudly concerned.

Hitherto, the superintendence of education,
both in Scotland and England, has been chiefly
intrusted to the clergy; and, at the time when
our parochial and other' scholastic institutions
were established, there was perhaps a propriety
in this arrangement; since, at that period, clergy-
men were almost the only educated persons, and
literature was chiefly concentrated in their order.
But the case is quite different in the present day,
when a liberal education is not confined to any
one rank of society, and when classical learning
is not considered as the most im|)ortant accom-
plishment. There is not, therefore, the same
reason why the superintendence of education
should be exclusively intrusted to clergymen, or
to any other class of community. We should
deprecate the idea of tho education of the genera!
mass of the population being intrusted exclusivelj
either to the established church, or to dissenters
of any denomination. Clergymen of all denomi-
nations should be considered as eligible, in com-
mon with other intelligent individuals, as superin-
tendents and members of Educational Committees;
but experience proves that it is dangerous to the
general interests of the community to intrust its
affairs, especially those which relate to education,
to any privileged class of society; for in such a

HARMONY OF SECTARIES IN AMERICA.

141

ease Cl)c general good of tlie public has frequently
been sacrificed to the iuterests or ambition of a
party

One of tbe chief pretenses generally set up for
exclusi^'e clerical superintendence, is the promo-
tion of the interests of religion. It is much to be
deplored that religion, which was intended to
promote " peace on earth, and good-will among
men," should so frequently have been used as a
pretense for sowing dissensions in society, and vio-
lating the principles of natural justice. Whether
" pure religion and undefiled " is promoted by at-
tempting to raise one portion of the community
and to crush another, and to throw a large body
of respectable characters into a state of unmerited
degradation, on account of their adherence to the
dictates of conscience — is a question which may
be safely left to every unbiased inquirer to de-
cide.— Willi regard to the religmis instruction of
the young, no difficulty could arise from the cir-
cumstance of persons belonging to difTerent reli-
gious parties having the superintendence of it;
bince almost every denomination of Christians
recognizes the essential facts, doctrines, and duties
of Christianity, v/hich are the only religious topics
which ought to be exhibited to the young either
in public or in private. The man who, overlooking
such subjects, would attempt to expatiate before
the young on sectarian points of controversy,
ought to be considered as destitute of that pru-
dence and discretion which are requisite for a
public instructor. If religion were taught as it
ought to be, directly from its Original Records,
instead of being inculcated from luiman formu-
laries, there would soon be little diffiirence of
opinion respecting its main and leading objects.
The religion of Heaven has been communicated
to us chiefly in the form of historical narrations,
unfolding to us the Divine dispensations, in rela-
tion to the fall, the recovery, and the renovation
of mankind, and embodying certain leading truths
and moral precepts, to direct our affections and
conduct — the great end of which is, not to engen-
der strife and a spirit of metaphysical speculation,
but to counteract moral evil, and to promote union,
harmony, and love, among all who acknowledge
its authority. There is no believer in revelation
that calls in question the facts of Scripture, the
perfections of the Deity it unfolds — the death,
resurrection, and ascension of Christ — the im-
mortality of the soul — a future state of punish-
ments and rewards — or the propriety of the
moral principles it inculcates. These are the
leading topics of revelation; and to insinuate
that such subjects cannot be taught directly from
the Scriptures themselves, without the aid of hu-
man formularies, is nothing short of throwing a
reflection on the wisdom of God, on account of
the manner in which he has communicated his
will, and of affixing a libel on the character of
the inspired writers, as if their writings were not
BufBciently plain and perspicuous.

The efficiency of religious instruction deduced
from the Scriptures alone, is clearly proved from
Uie mode of tuition in infant schools. In these
schools, religion is taugnt by familiar descriptions
and details of scriptural facts — by illustrations,
taken from Scripture and lite scenes of nature,
of the perfections of God — and by enforcing the
moral precepts of the Bible on the young, and
showing how they ought to be exemplified in all
their intercourses with each other. Now, I appeal
to every one who has witnessed the religious
knowledge of the children in these schools, and
its influence upon their conduct, if this mode of
tuition is not infinitely preferable, as to its practi-

Vol. I.— 35

cal efll»cts, to the usual method of instruction by
catechism, or any other formulary. Let us tak«
a number of children at random from any c«m-
mcn school, who have learned the '•Shorlor," or
any otlier catechism, from beginning to end, and
coinj)are their know^Iodge and feelings in regard
to religion with those of the children of a well-
conducted infant school, and the superiority of
the infant school children will be strikingly appa-
rent, even although they are much younger tlian
the former. — Should parents, however, vi^ish to
inculcate upon their children tlie peculiar tenets
of the sect to which they belong, they have an
opportunity of doing so at luime, or by means of
the pastors belonging to tliat denomination to
which they are attached; but, in public schools,
to attempt the inculcation of sectarian opinions,
would be equally injurious to the interests of re-
ligion and the cause of universal education. This
was attempted by the Church of England, in the
enactments contained in Brougham's " Education
Bill," and the same principle led the dignitaries
of that church to oppose the Lancasterian system
of education, and to patronize that of Dr. Bell, in
which the peculiar tenets of the Episcopal church
were to be exclusively inculcated.

That Christians of different denominations may
cordially co-operate in the arrangements of edu-
cation, appears from various existing facts. In
the Northern States of America, as already no-
ticed, education is far more general than in this
country, and conducted on more rational and en-
lightened plans; and persons of all denominations
in religion co-operate in its superintendence. In
the 24th "Annual Report of the Trustees of the
Public School Society of New York, for Ic-.'LI,"
it is stated, among many other interesting facts,
that "The Board of Education consists of mem-
bers of eight or ten religious denominations, all
acting with entire harinonif — that "they discharge
the important duties of their trust, with a single
eye to the public good" — and that they received
the sanction of "an independent set of examiners,
who have repeatedly inspected the schools, and
are acquainted with the operations of the Board"
— who express in their Report "their full confi-
dence that the literary, moral and religious in-
struction, calculated to fit the young for the duties
of life, and to prepare them for the happiness of
futurity, is properly attended to, and the school
moneys strictly and most beneficially applied to
their legitimate purposes." This board has the
superintendence of " 21 schools, with 21 princi-
pal and 24 assistant teachers, and 6007 children,"
the expense of which amounted to 62,000 dollars:
beside which there were above 450 private, charity,
and other schools in the city of New York. — We
know, too, that the "British and Foreign School
Society" is conducted on similar principles — its
Directors consisting of persons belonging to the
established church and the various denominations
of dissenters; and the same is the case with the
institutions for infant education which have been
lately established in many of our populous towns.
The hand-bill, announcing the objects of the
Model Infant School, Glasgow, which was framed
by the Rev. Dr. Welsh, then of St. David'i
church, states, as one of the objects of this insti-
tution, that it is "for the reception of children
from the age of two to that of six years, with the
view of imbuing their minds with the knowledge
of religious truths," — and that "the plan of com-
municating religious truths is by the narratives,
the precepts, and the plainest announcements of
Scripture." In short, the liberal plan now sug-
gested has been adopted in all its extent In tlia

142

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

kingdom of Prussia, wliere a national system of
education lias been established in vviiicii ail classes
of religionists, whether Protestants or Catholics,
have ioj equal interest, and which, for more than
half a century, has been conducted with the
greatest rejfularity and harmony. So that tliere
is no ini|)ossibilily in persons belonging to dilFer-
ent religious persuasions co-operating in the
business of education, wliere there is a sincere
desire to promote the improv:eiiieiit of the young,
and the best interests of general society.

But sliould it be found impossible to induce the
dominant sect in any country to co-operate with
dissenters in the arr;uigenieiits of education, per-
haps tlie following might be tlie most eligible plan
of procedure: — Let the government allot a sum
adequate to the erection and endowment of all the
schools requisite for an enliglitened and efficient
system of education — let this sum be divided be-
tween cliurchmen and dissenters, in a fair pro-
portion, according to their respective numbers —
and let the application of this sum, and the de-
tails respecting the patronage of the schools, the
qualifications of teachers, and the mode of in-
struction, be left to the respective parties, to be
nrranged as their judgment and circumstances

may direct — specifying, however, some of the
grand and leading principles on which the schools
must be established. A plan of this Jiind would,
indeed, still preserve the invidious distinction be-
tween churchmen and dissenters; but it would
be infinitely preferable to bestowing the whole
patronage and superintendence of education on
any one sectary or class of men whatever. — Should
government refuse to grant any pecuniary assist-
ance to such an object, dissenters and all others
have it in their power, by coming forward, in one
grand combination, with voluntary contributions,
to accomplish this noble design, independently of
aid from any power under heaven; provided they
are xcilling to make some of those small sacrifices
formerly suggested. (See page 1.37.) And if
they will vol stand forward as bold champions,
with their jiurses in their hands, ready to be de-
livered up for the support of this good cause, they
will declare themselves to be unworthy of the
name of Cliristians or of lovers of their species,
and will deservedly be deprived of all the advan-
tages, in time and eternity, which might result
from the accomplishment of this object, to them-
[ selves and to their offspring, both in the present
and future generations.

CHAPTER XIV.

MAXIMS, OR FIRST PRINCIPLES IN EDUCATION.

I. The idea should go before the word which ex-
presses it — or, in other words, yl clear and distinct
conception of an object should be impressed upon the
mind, before the name or terms lohich express it be
committed to memory.

This may be considered as the first and funda-
mental principle of intellectual instruction; and, if
admitted, the following rule should be strictly ad-
hered to in the business of education: — Let no
passages of any book be committed to memory be-
fore the leading ideas they contain be clearly under-
stood. If this principle were universally intro-
duced into education, it would overturn almost
every system of instruction which has hitlierto
prevailed both in secular and religious tuition.
An opposite principle has almost uniformly been
acted upon; and hence, catechisms, psalms, hymns,
grammar rules, chapters of the Bible, and speeches
in the Roman senate, have been prescribed as
memorial tasks, before any of the ideas contained
in them could be appreciated. We may ask, in
the name of all that is wise and rational. Of what
use is it to stock and overburden the memories of
children with a medley of words to which no
correct ideas are attached? Although a child
could commit twenty catechisms to memory, or
could even repeat the whole of the Old and New
Testaments, what purpose would it serve, if he
did not enter into the spirit and meaning of the
truths therein recorded? I have conversed with
an inaividual who could repeat the whole Bible
from beginning to end, and yet was entirely igno-
rant of the meaning of almost every proposition
it contained, and its most interesting truths ap-
peared to have made no impression upon his heart.
As in the original formation of language, the ob-
jects of nature must frst have been observed and
inown.before words or signs were fixed upon to

distinguish them; so, in communicating the ele-
ments of thought, the objects of thought must
first be recognized and described before the terms
and epithets which express their natures and
qualities be committed to memory. Instead of
obtruding a medley of words before they are
understood, upon the memories of the young,
they should be make to feel a desire for terms to
express their ideas; and, in this case, the ideas
and the words which express them will afterward
be inseparably connected. .

II. In the process of instruction. Nothing (if
possible) sliould be assigned to ike young merely as
tasks.

Everything prescribed for the exercise of the
faculties, should be represented both as a duty and
as a pleasure; and if the young understand ■ the
nature and objects of their scholastic exercises,
and the manner in which they should be prose-
cuted, they will find a pleasure in endeavoring to
surmount every apparent difficulty. I once knew
a gentleman, the Rector of a grammar school,
who, on his admission to his office, boasted that
he would conduct his school without inflicting
any corporeal punishment — instead of which lie
prescribed from twenty to sixty or eighty lines
of Virgil or Horace, as memorial tasks — and,
when not accurately repeated, increased their
number. But this practice had no other tendency
than to excite revengeful feelings, and to produce
disgust at the process of learning.

III. Everything that is cheerful and exhilarating to
the young should be associated with the business of
education.

Honce, school-rooms should be spacious, light,

and airy — comfortably heated during winter, and

erected in delightful and commanding situations.

I The school-books should be neatly printed, and

MAXIMS IN EDUCATION.

143

enlivened with pictures and engravings colored
from nature — amusing and iiistructivc exj.'eri-
ments should frequently be exhibited — and tlii>
pupils sliould be occasionally gratitied with ex-
cursions into interesting parts of the country, to
view the beauties of nature and enjoy the boun-
ties of Providence; so that all their scholastic
cjcercises may be connected with delightful asso-
ciations.

IV. In the practice of teaching, the principle of
Einulalioii should be discarded.

By a principle of ertiulation I mean, the ex-
citing of the young to exertion from the hope of
reward when they excel their companions in in-
tellectual excellence, or from the fear of punish-
ment or degradation, when they fall beneath them
in' iniustry and acquirements. Many teachers
have asserted that tiiey could not conduct educa-
tion with any effect without the aid of this princi-
ple. But whatever etFect it may have in an intel-
lectual point of view, it almost uniformly pro-
duces an injurious eirecton ihemoral temperament
oftheyoung,on theircompanionswhom they excel,
and on their parents and guardians, who are led
to form false estimates of their progress and
acquirements by the prizes they receive and the
places they' occupy in their respective classes.
One grand end of instruction, which has baen too
much overlooked, is to cultivate and regulate the
moral powers — to produce love, affection, concord,
humility, self-denial, and other Christian graces.
But the principle of emulation has a tendency to
produce jealousy, envy, ambition, haired, and
other malignant passions, and to exhibit intellec-
tual acquisitions as of far greater importance than
moral excellence. Beside, it is only a very few in
every class that can be stimulated to exertion by
this principle, and these few are generally of such
a temperament as to require their ambitious dis-
positions to be restrained rather than excited. In
the " American Annals of Education," for Janu-
ary, 1833, there is an excellent paper on this sub-
ject by Miss C. E. Bsecher, of Newport, Rhode
Island, a lady well known as an efficient teacher.
After enumerating the evils v/hich uniformly
flow from the principle of emulation, she st::tes
the following motives, as those which siie has
found " not only equal, but much more efficient,
in reference to all the objects to be gained in
education: — 1. Personal influence — endenvoring
to gain the esteem, the affijction, and the confi-
dence of the pupils, "&c. In this connection she
justly lemarks, "that cmnmendation for improve-
ment needs to be practiced much more frequently
than reproof for deficiency. 2. By habjtu;il ap-
p«^als to the Bible as the rule of rectitude, and to
conscience as the judge. 3. By cultivating a love
of knowledge for its own sake, that is, for the
pleasure it imparts; and also for the sake of the
increased good it will enable us to do for our fel-
low-bi.'ings. 4. By efforts to form a correct pub-
lic sentiment in school, so that it shall be unpopu-
lar to do wrong. 5. By appeals to pannital
influence, and that of other friends. This is
accomplished by transmitting frequent accounts
botii of deficiency and improvement to the friends
of the pupils. 6. By cultivating in the pujiils a
sense of obligation to God. of his constant in-
Bpeclion, and of his interest in all their concerns."
These principles (which are more particularly
explained and amplified in the paper referred to),
she adds, " I have chiefly depended upon during
the last three or four years of my experieivce as a
teacher. Every year has added to my conviction
of their efficacy, and everv year has increased my
satisfaction that thq| principle of emulation has

been banished with no consequent evil, and much

increase of good."

Mr. Morgan, in his late "Address to the Pro
prietors of the Universitj^ of London," expresses
sentiments in accordance with the abt ve. tipealc-
ing on the subject of prizes, lie says, "A prize is'
the least effectual mode of accomplishing the de-
sired object; it is founded on injustice, inasmuch
as it heaps honors and emoluments on those to
whom nature has ulready been most bountiful.
and whose enjoyments are multii)lied and increas-
ing in a greater ratio than others by the mare
easy acquisition of knowledge." "Praise, and
invidious comparisons, are oidy other forms of
the same principle, alike fruitful in envy, pride,
scorn, and bitter neglect. In the curiosity of
children, there is a sufficient and a natural stimu-
lant of the appetite for knowledge, and wo live in
a world abounding in the means of useful and
pleasurable gratifications. All that is required
of preceptore is to aid the development of the
faculties with affection and judgment." A ccrti-
Jicate of diligence and good conduct seems to bo
all that is necessary to distinguish from the
vicious, the idle, and slothful, those who have
emplo5'ed their time and talents in a proper
manner.

V. Corporeal punishnents should he seldom or
never inflicted — and when they are determined
upon as the last resort, they should be inflicted
with calmness and affection.

There i.s something revolting and degrading in
corporeal punishmentSv^and the necessity of re-
sorting to them gener|lly indicates, that there
had been a want of proper training in the earlier
stages of life. It is vain to imagine, that children
can be whipped either into learning or religion;
and, if an enlightened and judicious mode of tui-
tion were universally adopted, there would seldom
be any necessity for resorting to such a stimulus.
But in the modes of teaching which have most
generally prevailed, corporeal punishments are
almost indispensable. In the German "Pedagogic
Magazine," for 1833, we are told that " there died
lately in Swabia, a schoolmaster, who, for 51
years, had superintended an institution with old-
fashioned severity. From an average inferred
from recorded observations, one of the ushers cal-
culated, that, in the course of his exertions, he
had given 911,500 canings, 124,000 floggings,
209,000 custodes, 136,000 tips with the ruler,
10,200 boxes on the ear, and 22,700 tasks to get
by heart. It was further calculated, that he had
made 700 boys stand on peas, 690 kneel on a
sharp edge of wood, 5000 wear the fool's cap, and
1708 hold the rod," — amounting in all to 1,421,
208 punishments, which, allowing five days for
every week, would average above a hundred pun-
ishments every day. I'here is something ex-
tremely revolting in the idea of such a series of
punishments being connected with learning; and
we may justly infer, that, however much classical
learning may have been advanced, very little use-
ful knowledge or moral principle was communi-
cated in that seminary. For, a system of moral
and intellectual instruction, calculated to allure
the minis of the young, is altogether incosnpatibl*
with such Gothic rudeness and severity.*

* Corporeal punishments have generally a hardrnini; eflfecl
on the minds both of voun<» and old. A hiacksmilh lironght
up liis son, to whom he was vcri/ siwcre, to his own trade.
The urchin was, nevertheless, an audacious dog. One day
the old vuloan was attempting to harden a cold chisel which
he had made of foreign steel, but couiJ not succeed.
"Horsciehip it, father," exclaimed the youth, "if t/jat wiU
not harden, a, aoMag yfil "

144

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

VI. Children should not be long confinrd in
School — and never loiiyer than they are aclimly em-
ployed in it. — A scliool ouijbt never to serve the
purpose, of a prison. If the junior classes are
incapable of preparing tlioir lessons by them-
selves, they should either be provided with some
amusinif toys or picture-books, or be turned out
to romp about in the open air, or under a covered
shed, in rainy weather, and called in when their
lessons aro to be explained.

VII. Young people sJiould always he treated as
rational creatures, and their opinions occ(i:mtiaUy
solicited as to certain points and scholastic arrange-
ments. The reasons of the treatment they receive,
and of the exercises prescribed, in so far as they
are able to appreciate iliem, sliould occasionally
be stated, and explained and illustrated.

VIII. Reproofs should ahmys be tendered with
the utmost calmness and mildness. — When they are
tittered in passion, and with looks of fury, they
seldom produce any good effect, and not unfre-
quently excite a spirit of revenge against the
reprover.

IX. One great object of education should be to fix
the attention on the subjects we icish to explain and
elucidate. — On the proper exercise of the faculty
of attention depends almost all our improvement

in knowledge and virtue. Even the senses ar«
improved by tiie exercise of this faculty. Hence
the peculiar delicacy of touch observable in tha
blind, and the quick-sightedness of the deaf ;
hence the distinct perception of distant objects
acquired by sailors, and of delicate and minute
objects by watchmakers and jewelers, — in all
which cases the attention has been specially di-
rected to particular objects. It was by fixing his
attention on the subject, or " continually thinking
about it," that Newton, as he himself declared,
discovered the laws of the planetary motions, and
was enabled to unfold the true system of the
world. Hence tlie propriety of presenting sensible
objects to the view of children — of exhibiting
before them interesting experiments, and of having
their books adorned with lively and accurate en-
gravings. Hence, too, the propriety of teaching
them to notice every object within the reach of
their vision, and to mark every minute change
that takes in the form, color, and situation, of the
objects around them, and to give an account of
what they may have seen or heard in any of their
excursions: all which circumstances have a ten-
dency to induce a habit of attention, without
which there can be no solid improvement in any
department of instruction.

CHAPTER XV.

MECHANICS' INSTITUTIONS.

On these Institutions I intended to offer a few
particular remarks, and to suggest some arrange-
ments by which they might be rendered more
extensively useful than they have hitherto been,
both in a moral and intellectual point of view, but
as this volume has already swelled to a considera-
ble size, I shall confine myself to a very few
general observations.

It is now more than twenty years since I had
an opportunity of suggesting the establishment
of such institutions, under the designation of
"Literary and Philosophical Societies, adapted to
the middling and lower ranks oj' the community."
The details in relation to this subject, consisting
of a series of five successive papers, were pub-
lished in the London " Monthly Magazine'' for the
year 1814 — more than eight years before any
mechanics' institutions were organized in this
country.* Although these papers have seldom
been referred to, in the history of mechanics'
institutions, yet the author is aware that they
were the means of suggesting, to certain individu-
als, the idea of establishing such societies; and,
not above a year or two after their publication, a
society was organized in the vicinity of London,
on the plan and principles suggested in these
papers, of which the author was elected an honor-
ary member. Instead of inserting, in this place,
the substance of these papers, as was originally
intended, I shall merely give a short sketch of
their contents.

• See "Monthly Magazine," vol. xxxvii, for April and
July, 1814, pp. 219, 507, and volume xxxviii, for Aiignsi and
September, 1814, pp. 23, 121, and for January, ISl.V, p. 503.
These communications occupy more than 22 closelv-priiited
colamnrs, and contain several minute details in relation to
what should be the leading objects of such institutions, and
the means by which tJiey might b" established.

In the first communication, after a few intro-
ductory observations in reference to existing
associations, and other particulars connected with
the dissemination of knowledge, the following,
among many other advantages, were poiuted out
as likely to flow from the extensive establishment
of such institutions: — 1. They would serve to
unite and concentrate the scattered rays of genius,
which might otherwise be dissipated, and enable
them to act with combined vigor and energy in
the discover^' and the propagation of useful know-
ledge. 2. Tiiey would tend to promote the rapid
advancement of general science; for if the labors
of those societies which already exist have pro-
duced a powerful effect on tlie progress of science,
much more might be expected were their number
increased to eighty or a hundred fold. 3. They
would have a tendency to produce an extensive
diffusion of rational information among the gene-
ral ma.ss of society, particularly among those in
the inferior walks of life, by which the narrow
conceptions, superstitious notions, and vain fears,
which so generally prevail, might be gradually
removed, and a variety of useful hints and ra*io-
nal views suggested, which would tend to elevate
and ennoble the mind, and promote domestic
convenience and comfort. 4. They would induce
a taste for intellectual pleasures and rational
enjoyment, in which those hours generally spent
in listlessness, foolish amusements, and the pur-
suits of dissipation, might be profitably employed,
and, consequently, the sum of general happiness
augmented. 5. If properly conducted, they could
not fail of producing a benign influence on the
state of morals and of general society. As vice 13
the natural offspring of ignorance, so true virtuo
can only flow from elevated and enlightened
principles; and where such principles exist, their

LITERARY AND PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETIES.

145

operation, in a greater or less degree, will always
Bj^peur. Tiie liabits of order, punctuality, and
politeness, wliicli would prevail in such associa-
tions, would iKiUirally be carried into the other
departments of lifisand produce their correspond-
ing eiFects. The frequent intercourse of men of
different parties and professions, associated for
tho purpose of promoting one common object,
would gradually vanquish tiiose mutual prejudices
and jeulousle;! which too frequently exist even
in cultivated minds, and a liberal, candid, and
humane spirit would be cherisiied and promoted.
Society would thus acquire a new polish, and
wear a different aspect from what it now exhibits
in the inferior ranks of life; more especially, if
the means now su(jgesled be combined with, the opera-
tion of Christian principles.

The other communications illustrated the ar-
rangements and regulations requisite in the opera-
tion of sucli institutions, particularly in relation
to the following circumstances.

I. The Admission of Members. — In regard to this
circumstance, tho two following extremes should
be guarded against — the indiscriminate admission
of all who may wish to become members, what-
ever may be their literary or moral chevacters —
and the giving an undue preference to certain in-
dividuals on account of their rank, who have not
a corresponding share of common sense and lite-
raiy acquirements. In a literary society, the dis-
tinctions of rank ought to be, in a great measure,
if not altogether, overlooked; while, at the same
time, the utmost decorum and politeness ought
always to prevail. It is now high time that human
characters were estimated according to their real
and intrinsic worth, independent of those external
and adventitious circumstances with which they
may be accompanied; and it will bo highly becom-
ing in rational associations to set an example of
estimating the characters of men on principles
purely of a moral and intelb^ctual nature. Al-
though money is a useful article in all societies,
yet it would be inexpedient to solicit any individu-
als, not otherwise qualified to become members,
chiefly with a view of their contributing to the pe-
cuniary interests of the association. Such persons
would not only be a deadweight upon the society,
hut, by the undue influence they would have,
might tend to impede its progress, and prevent its
chief design from being accomplished. Beside
tlicir Kterary acquirements, the moral qualiji cations
of those who desire admission ought not to be al-
together overlooked. Knowledge is chiefly desir-
able in proportion as it is useful. If it does not
lead its possessor to propriety of moral conduct,
its utility, at least to him, may be much question-
ed. In all rational institutions, the melioration
of the moral characters and dispositions of man-
kind ought to form as prominent an object as the
illumination of their understandings.

II. The Subjects of Discussion, and the mode of
conducting it. — Every snl)ject which has a tenden-
cy to induce a habit of rational thinking, to ele-
vate and ennoble the mind, and to present sublime

ind interesting objects of contemplation — every
subject which tends to unfold tho wise arrange-
ments of nature, and the laws by which the econ-
omy of the universe is regulated, which displays
the attributes of the Divinity, and leads the mind
upward "from NatiJre to Nature's God;" — every
subject which tends to promote the progress of
science, the advancement of the liberal and me-
chanical arts, and the moral improvement of man-
kind, might occasionally become topics of discus-
sion in a society constituted on the principles to
which I have alluded. Theso subjects would em-

brace the prominent parts of natural history, ge-
ography, astronomy, experimental philosophy,
chemistry, natural theology, ethics, education,
arts and manufactures, physiology, domesticecon-
omy, and similar branches of knowledge. Al-
though party politics, and sectarian views of reli-
gion should be excluded, yet there are certain
general topics connected with these subjects, which
might form legitimate subjects of discussion: such
as the general principles of legislation, the causes
of the wealth of nations, the effects of diiTorent
modes of taxation, and other branches of political
economy — the character and attributes of the
Deity, the principles of moral action, the immor-
tality of the soul, t\w. facts of sacred history, and
the evidences by which they are supported — tlio
harmony of nature and revelation, and the means
by which the character of tiie human race may
be elevated and improved, and the moral world
regenerated.

In the discussion of such subjects, there are
four different modes which might be occasionally
adopted. — 1. The first mode is that of public lec-
tures. A lecture might be delivered once a week,
or fortnight, or oftener, according to circum-
stances, on some interesting subject on natural
history, chemistry, or experimental philosophy,
accompanied with experiments. In order to raise
a sum for remunerating an intelligent lecturer,
persons not members of the society might be in-
vited to attend, on the condition of paying a small
contribution, the members at the same time con-
tributing a little, though in a smaller proportion.
In order to excite attention, and to stimulate the
exercise of the rational faculty, an examination of
such of the auditors as chose to submit to it, on
the different particulars detailed in the lecture,
might take place either at the conclusion of the
lecture, or at some future hour; and, at the same
time, an opportunity offered of putting questions
to the lecturer, and stating any difficulties or ob-
jections which may have occurred to them, in
order to their solution. — 2. By the more intelli-
gent members composincj essays on particular sub-
jects, and reading them to the society. For the
benefit of young writers, it might be proper, in a
candid and friendly manner, to point out the gram-
matical blunders, improper phrases, erroneous
statements, or other improprieties which may be
found in the essay; and the writer ought to con-
sider such hints as so much new and useful infor-
mation, by tho help of which he may be enabled
to render his future compositions more correct.
In order to make a respectable figure as writers
of e-ssays, particular attention should be given to
the arts of grammar and composition; and exer-
cises and instructions on these subjects might oc-
casionally form a part of the business of the so-
ciety. As some essays may occasionally be read of
which the society may wish to have copies for
future inspection, in order to save the trouble of
the secretary transcribing them, it might be proper
to recommend that every essay be written on
paper of the same size, so "that tlsey might after-
ward be bound in regular volumes, to be preserved
as part of the records of the society. In this way,
the literary communications made to the society
would be recorded in the handwritings of their re-
spective authors, free of those errors which might
be occasioned in th-.-ir transcription by another
liand. — 3. Another method of discussion might
be by Forensic disputations. In this case, a ques-
tion is proposed and stated, and opposite sides of
the question are supported by different s^jieakers.
This method has its advantages and its disadvan-
tages. Its disadvantages are, that persons, ia their

146

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

oaeeriie'^s to =!Ui)i)Oit the siiie tliey have taken, are | est member sliould not be perinittfd to go, except
Bomeliines apt to coiilLiid more for victory than in very singular cases. Tliuso whose incomes are

■ ■ ■ ■ " ■-*- known to be considerable should be requested to

give separate subscriptions, beside the regular
quarterly or annual fees, for the purpose of more
speedily accomplishing the objects of the institu-
tion. Two or three ai'd'eient rates of annuul fees
or subsci iptions might be fi.xed upon, a maximum,
a middle, and a minimum, and every member left
at liberty to choose that rate which suits liis cir-
cumstances. Nor ought those vviio are unable to
pay the maximum rate, or ♦o give separate sub-

for truth; and, unless they watch over their temp
ers, are ready to fall into a spirit of altercation and
ill-humor, and to throw out unhandsome epithets
against their opponents. Many persons, too, from
their liaving ably supported the erroneous side
of a question, have been insensibly led to adopt
that opinion, though, in the fust instance, they
defejided it merely for the sake of argument. Its
advantages are, that it excites interest and atten-
tion, exercises the reasoning faculty, and affords _

an opportunity to every member of taking a part ; scriptions, to be on this account, considered as m-
in the discussion. It may, when properly and , ferior to their fellows; for it is no disgrace for a
calmly conducted, suggest useful information, ] man to be poor, if he is honest, prudent, and iu-
and throw light on many obscure and interesting | ciustrious, and has not wasted his substance in
subjects. It has a tendency to teach persons not '' " ^'

to be too rash in adopting opinions until they

have weighed the objections that may be brouglit
against them. As the discovery of truth ought
to be the chief object in all literary debates — in
order to insure this object, an intelligent person,
who has taken no direct share in the debate, might
be appointed to sum up the arguments on both
eides, and endeavor to balance them, in order to
ascertain on which side the truth seems to lie.
In certain cases, it will be found, that the truth
does not lie directly on either side, but in a mid-
dle position between the two extremes. This
mode of discussion, when adopted, should be used
with extreme caution, with an equable temper,
and with a sincere desire to discover truth, wher-
ever it may be found; otherwise it may be attend-
ed with hurtful consequences. — 4. Another mode
of discussion, is the determining of a. question by an
indvction of facts or reasons, in order to illustrate
a particular subject; or, in other words, by an
inquiry into causes and effects. For example,
BU^jpose such questions proposed as the following:
— What are the different causes which operate in
the production of rain? On what principles are
we to account for the various phenomena atten-
dant on thunder-storms? By what means may
the stroke of lightning be averted? What are the
various useful purposes to which the late discov-
eries respecting the gases may be applied? By
what means, and on what i)rinciples, may human
beings be transported from one place to another
with a more rapid motion than has hitherto been
effected? What are the best means for under-
mining the principles of avarice, and counteract-
ing its effects? What are the most efficient meth-
ods for diffusing knowledge, and improving the
moral and intellectual powers of man? On such
questions, every member might be called upon to
Buortrest whatever occurs to him that has a tenden-
cy t'o elucidate the subject, and to determine the
inquiry; and the remarks of all the members who
deliver their sentiments, when combined, could
not fail to throw some light on an interesting ques-
tion, or, at least, they would tend to excite to fur-
ther inquiry at a future period.

III. 7'he Funds of tlie Society, and the purposes
to which they might be applied. — Money is a neces-
sary article in every association, and is indispen-
sable in the vigorous prosecution of scientific ob-
jects. Little of it, however, is required for ra-
tional and literary purposes, compared with what
is sjjent in the pursuits of folly and dissipation. —
Although it is not usual in most societies to make
any ditTerence in the sums to be paid by every
m(!niber, yet it appears somewhat unreasonable,
that a person whose income is known to be very
limited should contribute as much as one whose
income is five or six limes greater. A minimum,

bowevc*-, ought to bo fixed, below which the poor- i uon

folly or dissipation; as it is no honor to a fool to
possess v/ealth which he was not instrumental in
acquiring. The purposes to M'hich the funds of a
literary institution may be applied are such as tho
following: —

I. The purchase of Books. — These are the grand
depositories of human knowledge, and, therefore,
it should be t'.e first object of every literary es-
tablishment to procure a judicious selection of the
best books, in every department of science. In
regard to the general subjects of the books to be
purchased, it may be proper that every member
have it in his power to give his vote and opinion;
but the selection of the individual books on any
particular science, should perhaps be intrusted to
a committee composed of such members as are
best acquainted with the present state of literature.
— 2. The purchase of philosophical instruments. —
It may perhaps be a considerable time before the
funds shall permit tiie purchase of an extensive
apparatus of this kind, yet if a certain portion of
the funds be appropriated to this object, in the
course of 20 years 500 guineas might be devoted
to it, supposing the society to consist of lOO mem-
bers, every one contributing annually half a
guinea, and that only one half of the funds are
appropriated to this purpose. Nor should it be
considered as an object too grand and extensive,
to have ultimately in view tlie erection of an ob-
servatory for astronomical observations, and a
complete apparatus for illustrating the doctrines
of chemistry, natural philosophy, and all the other
departments of natural science. Specimens of
interesting objects in botany, zoology, raineralogj',
and geology, might also be procured, along, with
models of useful machines for illustrating me-
chanical powers and operations. Where there is
an ardent love of science, and an animated perse-
verance in prosecuting its objects, all the ends
now stated might, from small beginnings, be in
due time accomplished. — 3. Another purpose to
which the funds may be applied might be, the dis-
tribntion of premiums to those who solve any
difficult and useful problem, or who produce the ,
best essay on a given subject. If the propriety of
bestowing premiums in such cases be admitted,
the following principle might be adopted as to the
nature of the preniium; namely, that it be such
as can be procured at a moderate expense, and, at
the same time, be of some utility to the person to
whom it is adjudged. Instead of a gold or asilver
medal, — a pocket compass, a sun-dial, a pocket
telescope, a small microscope, a quadrant, a case
of mathematical instruments, a terrestrial or ce-
lestial globe, a tellurion, or any useful article
which may best suit the taste of the successful
candidate, might be given as a premium: and
along with it a medal of copper, pewter, or brass,
or an engraved card, with an aupropriate iuscrip-

FUNDS OF PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETIES.

147

IV. The Ptthlications of the Society. — A con-
derable time would probably elupse before sucli
society would liuve it in its power to coinnniui-

■•ateany new discoveries worthy of the attention of
the scientitic world. Yet this consi.!eralion ought
not, perhaps, to deter the society from exhibiting
Bonie of its transactions to public view. hi
the progress of the institution, after the lapse of
a few years, a selection might be made of the
best essays that had previously been couimunica-
ted, and published in a neat duodecimo volume, with
an liistorical account of the progress of the insti-
tution since its commencement, and the manner
in vviiich its operations are conducted, together
with an abstract of the general progress of sci-
ence during the same period, which might be col-
lected from certain scientific journals. It would
also be useful to give a brief statement of what
has hitherto been discovered in relation to the
different sciences, with hints respecting the desid-
erata, or things which still remain to be discover-
ed— whicii would tend to direct the attention of
the rational inquirer to those particular investiga-
tions by which science might be advanced, and
carried forward to perfection. Such a volume,
though it might not embody an}' new deductions,
or discoveries, might, notwithstanding, be of con-
siderable utility in different respects. It might
convey new and useful information to those who
are just commencing the study of science, and who
have no access to the more learned transactions
of other societies; it might become a depository
for inserting accounts of interesting facts, and of
researches that may be made in that part of the
country where the society is situated; it might
tend to excite the rational part of niankind in
other cities and towns to form similar establish-
ments, and to cultivate a mutual correspondence ;
and, as it would probably obtain a considerable cir-
culation in the surrounding districts (being print-
ed in a cheap and economical form), it might dif-
fuse new information in different quarters where
more expensive volumes would never have found
admittance.

V. Correspondence and intercourse of the mem-
bers of the different societies. — It might be of con-
siderable use for promoting the object of these
institutions, that the societies, in their corporate
capacity, and individual members, should corres-
pond with each other, both {)ersonally and by lit-
erary communications — and that the members of
one society, when occasionally residing in the lo-
cality of another, should be admitted gratis to all
the privileges of that other society; such as, the
use of the library, the inspection of the museum,
and attendance on lectures. In order to desig-
nate the members of all such societies, and to
prevent the necessity of a circumstantial proof of
their belonging to similar institutions, every mem-
ber might be furnished by his own society with an
engraved card or ticket, or rather with a medal of
brass or pewter, having the society's name and
motto engraved on it, and to which the name of
tlie person, at his admission, might also be ap-
pended. The advantages which would result
from the possession of such a document are suffi-
ciently obvious. It would form, as it were, a
bond of union among all the lovers of science in
different parts of the empire, and enable them
with facility to recognize each other. Travelers,
whether ou business or for pleasure, when visiting
the diffrent towns in the line of their route,
would tiuis obtain an easy access to the society
of persons of congenial minds; useful hints
would be reciprocally communicated, and an in-
teresting correspoudence occasionally formed,

which might be productive of many pleasing and
important consequences, both to the individuals
and to the respective societies. Tiiey would thus
feel themselves more at home, devoid of that
ennui which one so frequently feels in strange
places, and have an opportunity of improving
those hours which might otherwise be dissipated
in listlessness, to rational and scientific purposes.
In short, by this means, the idea suggested by the
celebrated Lord Verulam, of uniting the learned
world into one great republic, might be in somo
measure realized ; every person of intelligence
carrying along with him his badge of distinction,
and thus indicating to all congenial minds, the
grand association to which he belongs.

The present is an age in which scientific asso-
ciations have rapidly increased. The principle of
the division of labor seems now to be judiciously
acted upon in scientific investigations, by the
formation of societies which have chiefly one
great object to promote, or one particular science
which they propose to cultivate; and therefore we
have reason to indulge the hope, that the different
sciences will now make more rapid advances to
perfection than in former times. Still, however,
much remains to be accomplished in regard to the
establishment of literary and rational associations.
The discoveries hitherto made in the various de-
partments of human knowledge are entirely un-
"known to by far the greatest proportion oven of
the civilized part of mankind. Institutions,
therefore, still require to be formed, on an exten-
sive, scale, for communicating to the great mass of
society at least the results of those researches
which have hitherto been made, for eradicating
those erroneous notions which so generally pre-
vail, and for directing their attention to moral and
intellectual pursuits. And should such societies
be formed, we might indulge the hope that, ere
long, they would be enabled to cooperate with those
respectable societies which now exist, in making
researches into those regions of science whicli
are yet unexplored, and of promoting the nwral
improvement of all classes of the community. —
They would likewise have a tendency to advance
the interests of genuine religion. For, true sci-
ence and the doctrines of revelation, so far from
being at variance, perfectly harmonize, and reflect
a mutual luster upon each other. Of course, the
more general information persons acquire in rela-
tion to the system of nature and the economy of
the material world, the more will they be qualified
for studying the Scriptures in a rational manner;
the light of sound philosophy will have a tendency
to guard them from skepticism on the one hand,
and from superstition and enthusiasm on the
other, and to prevent them from imbibing those
foolish and erroneous interpretations of Scripture,
which have tended to bring discredit on the ora-
cles of Heaven. If, therefore, the moral improve-
ment anil the intellectual illumination of mankind
be an object at all desirable, it is to be hoped the
intelligent public v/ill duly appreciate its impor-
tance, and encourage every scheme which has a
teiidencj'^ to raise our species to that dignity
which they ought to hold in the scale of existence,
as rational and immortal beings.

Such is an abridged view of the communica-
tions on this subject, which were offered to the
public above twenty years ago, long before any
such society actually existed. Such institutions
have now been established in most of the large
towns of the British em[)ire, and in various parts
of the United States of America; but none of
them with which I am acquainted comprehend
in their plan all the objects above stated. In their

148

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OK MANKIND.

present state they appear defective in the follow-
ng rcsiK-cts: — ^^1. In these institutions being
TegardeJ as chiolly adapted to the instruction of
artists and mechanics, for rendering them more
intelligent and expert in their respective trades and
professions; and hence the instructions comniuni-
cated have been almost exclusively confined to
mathematics and mechanical philosophy. It is
highly requisite that mechanics should be instruc-
ted in the physical and mathematical sciences
connected with their professions; but this, instead
of being considered as an ultimate ohject, should
be viewed as only one of tlie subordinate objects
of such institutions. Their grand and ultimate
objects ought to be, to indnce a taste, among the
great mass of society, for moral and intellectual
improvement — and to difl'nse, throughout all
ranks, useful knowledge of every description, in
order to raise the human mind from that state
of degradation in which it has been so long im-
mersed, and to direct its contemplations to objects
wortliy of the dignity of rational and immortal
natures.

In order to accomplish such objects, it is essen-
tially requisite that knowledge be presented to
tho understanding in its imst interesting and allur-
ing farms. In the first instance, all abstract dis-
quisitions, and abstruse mathematical investiga-
tions, should be studiously avoided, or postpone"!
to a future period; and those scenes and objects
presented to view, which have a tendency to
allure the imagination, to excite inquiry, and to
produce rational delight. Such are the subjects
of Natural History, which, considered in its most
comprehensive sense, has for its object, to arrange
and describe all the known facts in the material
universe. Facts constitute the foundation of all
the sciences — they are most easily acquired when
properly described — their acquisition requires the
least exertion of intellect — and, when presented
to the view in sufficient number and variety, they
will always produce pleasurable emotions, and a
thirst for intellectual enjoyment. And, therefore,
in the natural order of instruction, they ought to
constitute the first portions of knowledge to be
presented to the untutored mind in all colleges,
academies, and mechanics' institutions. After the
student has acquired a knowledge of such facts,
he elements of the mathematical sciences might
next occupy his attention, for enabling him to
enter on the discussions of natural philosophy,
astronomy, and the investigation of the causes
of the phenomena of nature. A profound know-
ledge of the abstruse parts of mathematics, how-
ever, is not absolutely necessary for the ac-
quisition of the more useful branches of gene-
ral knowledge. An acquaintance with the de-
monstrations of the first book of Euclid, and
of a few propositions in some of the other books
•^the elements of plane trigonometry and conic
sections, along with practical geometry — is almost
all that is requisite for understanding the more
interesting departments of science, and may be
acquired in a very short time, by a moderate appli-
cation of the mental powers. The order I have
now stated has, however, in most instances, been
inverted. The abstractions of mathematical sci-
ence have been presented to young and untutored

minds before they had any conceptions of their
utility, or the investigations to which they are
applied, and before they had acquired a relish for
substantial knowledge; and the consequence has
been, that many have abandoned the pursuit of
knowledge, on account of the dry and uninterest-
ing form in which it was presented to the mind.
In conformity with this practice, the directors
of some mechanics' institutions have selected
lecturers chiefly on the ground of their being
expert mathanaticians,-w ilhont any knowledge of
their accomplishments as popular teachers of
natural science; and the consequence has been,
that both the superintendents and the members
of the institution have been disappointed, and the
society has fallen into disrepute. For, a profound
mathematician is not generally the person best
calculated to convey a knowledge of the facts of
natui-al history and philosophy, in the most simpU
and alluring manner, to the untutored mind.

2. Another defect in these institutions, as pre-
sently conducted, is, that they are not rendered
so subservient as thej' might be to the moral tm-
provemcnt of society. Knowledge of every de-
scrip' "on ought to be rendered subservient to the
illusi,ation of Divine truth — of the attributes and
moral government of the Almighty — of the facts
and evidences of revelation — and for counteract-
ing evil passions, and promoting the advancement
of the human race in true morality — and thus
preparing them for the employments of that
future and eternal world to which they are des-
tined. Uidess this object be kept in view, the
advantages which society will derive from such
institutions will be comparatively few and unim-
portant. For the mere acquisition of scientific
knowledge will not of itself counteract the de-
pravity and moral evils which exist in the world,
nor raise mankind in the scale of moral excel-
lence, unless it be blended with that celestial light
which proceeds directly from the great Source of
intelligence. Discussions on some of the leading
subjects to which I allude can easily be conducted,
without in the least interfering with sectarian
views of religion; and I cannot account for the
almost universal practice of setting aside such
topics in philosophical discussions, without being
inclined to suppose that there is a certain degree
of antipathy entertained toward such subjects, not-
withstanding their important bearings on the pre
sent comfort and the future happiness of mankind.

I shall only add further, that beside the com-
munication of knowledge by public lectures in
mechanics' institutions, the members of such
societies might have occasional meetings for mu-
tual instruction. At such meetings, a portion of
some standard, scientific, or other work, might
be read, and a conversation entered into respect-
ing the subject it discusses. Every member should
have an opportunity of proposing questions in
reference to that subject, and of stating any
objections or difficulties that may occur to his
mind' — not for the purpose of caviling or of
formal disputation, but to increase his information,
and to draw forth the remarks of his associates.
In this way the leading branches of any particular
system of science might be explained and eluci-
dated in the course of a session.

PART n.

MISCELLANEOUS HINTS IN REFERENCE TO THE DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDUK
AND THE IMPROVEMENT OF SOCIETY

On the following subjects I originally intended
to enter into some specific details and particular
illustrations. But as this volume has already
swelled to a considerable size, I can offer, in the
meantime, only a few general hints. — If we
would carry forward the social state of man to
that "consummation" which is so "devoutly to
be wished," we would require, in the first place,
to enter into every depariinent of society, and
detect the absurdities, abases, and immoral princi-
ples connected with i(, and expose them to view
in all their naked deformities and unchristian
tendencies. For there is scarcely a department
of the social state, in Europe or Asia, whether
civil, political, or ecclesiastical, but is based on
selfishness, ambition, avarice, tyranny, or other
anti-social and malignant principles. In the
next place, it would be necessary, not only to
investigate the remedies to be applied to such evils,
but to introduce practices which have never yet
prevailed, and to lay the foundation of institutions
which have never yeX been established. For, if
ever we expect to behold a period when know-
ledge shall be universal, when "Righteousness
shall run down our streets as a river," and when
"Holiness to the Lord" shall be inscribed on all
the employments of human life — our existing
institutions require to be new modeled, and many
of them altogether overturned, and a new founda-
tion laid for the advancement of society, and the
future progress of the human mind. Notwith-
standing the vague and violent declamations of
certain politicians and divines about the necessity
of " preserving unimpaired our national institu-
tions," it is evident that some of them are rotten
to the very core, and stand as obstructions to the
rights of mankind — to the progress of knowledge,
and to moral improvement. There is a continual
outcry among certain classes against everything
which has the appearance of ^'innooadon," and
which implies a want of confidence in "the wis-
dom of our ancestors;" as if laws and institutions,
framed in an age comparatively barbarous and
unenlightened, were so absolutely perfect that
they require no further correction or improve-
ment. Without innovation there can be no tiio-
rough reformation. Many existing institutions,
laws, and usages, have been tried for centuries,
and have been found of little avail to tiie renova-
tion of tlie world ; and he who insists that they
shall be still supported in every iota, as the)' have
hitherto been, virtually declares, that the. vioral
xtorld ought to stand still, and that no such period
as the Scripture-Millennium will ever arrive to
bless mankind. There is an utter inconsistency
In maintaining that every practice and institution
should continue in its present state, and at the
same time admitting that the world is to be re-
generated, and that " the knowledge of Jehovah
shall cover the earth." The one position appears
incompatible with the other, and he who tena-
ciously adheres to the former must give up the
latterj and hence we have sometimes found, that

those who are strenuous supporters of " things
as they are," do not hesitate to afirrm, that "the
world will never be much better than it has hith-
erto been, and that wars, and ignorance, and
misery, will continue to the end of time." But
such a sentiment, as v/e have already shown, is
inconsistent with the plainest declarations of the
oracles of Heaven, and tends to throw a dismal
gloom over all the future prospects of society;
and I trust there is scarcely one enlightened
Christian that would dare to vindicate an opinion
so inconsistent with the future improvement of
our species, and with the benevolent purposes and
arrangements of the Governor of the world. — But
to enter particularly into the subjects to which I
allude would require a separate volume of no
inconsiderable size. I shall therefore, in the mean-
time, offer only a few general hints, leaving every
one to prosecute the subject more particularly by
his own reflections.

I. ON I.MPROVEMENTS I.\ REGARD TO PREACHING.

In the few remarks which I intend to make on
this topic it is taken for granted that the funda-
mental facts and doctrines of Christianity are to
be frequently illustrated, and always recognized in
every discussion that has a reference to religion.
But it is preposterous to dwell almost perpetually,
as some preachers do, on what may be termed
the alphabet, the rudiments, or first principles
of Christianity, as if Christians were always to
remain "babes in Christ." "Leaving the first
principles of the doctrine of Christ," but neither
forgetting them, nor dwelling exclusively upon
them, they ought "to go on to perfection," carry-
ing forward and tracing these principles through
all tiieir important bearings and consequences in
the Christian life, and expanding their minds with
all the views of the Divine operations which the
aids of Revelation, art and science, can furnish.
This progress toward perfection, however, can
never be attained, if Christians are always em-
ployed in "laying again the foundation," and
never attempting to rear the superstructure; and
if Christian instructors are always exercised in
attempting to prove and explain a few of the fun-
damental articles of the Christian system, and
neglect to carry forward their readers and hearers
through all the difFerent depirtments of Christian
action and contemplation. What should we think
of the teacher of geometry who, after explaining
the terms, axioms, and first principles of the
science, stopped short, and left the student either
to prosecute his path through the leading propo-
sitions and higher branches, or not, as he deemed
proper? What should we think of the philoso-
pher who spent his time merely in explaining the
ruli.'S of philosophizing, and the general laws of
motion, without ever applying them to the iuves-
li^ation and explanation of the phenomena of the
visible world; and who is always defining first
principles, without tracing them to their couso-
(149.)

150

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

quencos, or pointing out tho manner of tlieir
application? We could expect but poor geome-
ters and i)liilosophers, from sucli meager instruc-
tions. And can we expect tliat the Cliristian
instructor, wiio seldom goes beyond tlie ax'wms of
Christianity, shall render his hearers cnliyldetied
and pntclicul Christians, and bold heroes in pro-
moling the cause of reformation and religion? If
such u plan of instruction be wise, then the apos-
lles and prophets were fools in directing us so
particularly in all the practical bearings of reli-
gion, ami taking such expansive views of the
works and the moral governujent of God. But,
waiving such general observations, I proceed to
offer two or three particular remarks.

The preacher should take a more comprehensive
range of subjects, in his instructions, than tliat to
which lie is usually confined. The Scrijjtures
contain references to a greater variety of objects
than any other book — all of which must be con-
sidered as legitimate subjects for discussion in the
pulpit. The works of creation, as displaying the
Power, Wisdom, Benevolence, Grandeur, and su-
perintending care of the Creator — the events
recorded in sacred and civil history, as manifesta-
tions of the character and principles of his moral
government — the history of nations and the revo-
lutions to which they have been subjected, as
illustrative of his faithfulness and retributive jus-
tice, and of the fulfillment of ancient predictions —
the harmony which subsists between the system
of nature and the system of Revelation, and the
mutual light they reflect upon each other — the
depravity of man, and the proofs and illustrations
of it which are to be found in the constitution
and operations of nature, and in the wars and
devastations, and malignant principles which have
prevailed in the world — the truth of Revelation,
as displayed in its powerful and beneficent effects
in the case of nations, families, and individuals,
and in its transforming iniiuonce on the state of
society and on the physical aspect of thi world —
the various active means by which society may
be improved and regenerated, and the blessings
of the Gospel diffused among all nations — the
multifarious ways in which benevolence and
general philanthropy may be made to operate in
diffusing knowledge, counteracting misery, alle-
viating distress, and promoting happiness among
all ranks — the rational grounds of those moral
laws which God has promulgated in his word,
which form the basis of the order and happiness
of the moral universe, — these, and other topics
connected with them, in conjunction with the
leading doctrines of Christianity, and the views
which the Scriptures unfold of the glories of the
Millennial era, the resurrection of the dead, the
new heavens and earth, and the employments and
felicities of the future world — should be exhibited
in a lumi'ious and energetic manner, and illus-
trated with all the facts and scenes which the
physical and moral world can supply. In parti-
cular, the duties of practical Christianity, the
government of the temper, the dispositions and
principles which should be displayed amidst the
scenes and departments of human life, the duties
incumbent on masters, sei-vants, parents, children,
teachers, scholars, merchants, judges, authors,
publishers, neighbors, and other relations in soci-
ety, should be specifically explained and illus-
trated. Graphical descriptions might be given of
the scenes of human life and the practices which
abound in society, delineating the selfisli and ma-
lignant principles which pervade them, drawing
them forth from their hiding-place, and portray-
ing them before every eye, in all their contrariety

to the principles of the Gospel, and in all their
repulsive features and abominations — at the same
time showing how the spirit of Chri.sliunity ought
to operate in every scene and department in the
commercial, political, and religious world, and
what delightful and. harmonious effects would be
produced, were the principles of our holy religiou
to be universally recognized in all the transac-
tions of mankind.

Had we a preacher endowed with the graphical
powers of a Sir Walter Scott, Avith a mind imbued
with Christian principles, and ardently desirous
to consecrate his faculties to the advancement of
practical Christianity — he might, by his lively
and picturesque descriptions of the scenes of sin
and holiness, and their respective effects on the
moral world, excite attention to such subjects
almost to as high a pitch as that celebrated novel-
ist did to his tales of warlike encounters, and of
knights and ferocious chieftains whose names
ought now to descend into oblivion. Such were
some of the inspired preachers, whose orations
are recorded in the book of God. Such was the
prophet Isaiah, when he proclaimed to the tribes
of Israel the counsels of the Most High. Let us
conceive him standing in an elevated position in
the court of the temple, at one of the solemn
feasts, surrounded with thousands of worshipers,
— describing the majesty of Him " who measur-
eth the waters in the hoUow of his hand, meteth
out heaven with the span, and weigheth the
mountains in scales and the hills in a balance" —
contrasting the grandeur of Jeliovah with the
vanities of the heathen and the pitiful linages of
the idolater — portraying the destruction of Baby-
lon, and its hideous and perpetual desolations-
depicting the riches and splendor of Tyre, and
the doom which awaited her proud inhabitants —
foretelling the downfall of Egypt and the utter
confusion and despair which would seize upon all
ranks — denouncing the wickedness and abomina-
tions of the people of Judah — displaying the Mes-
siah, in his character, humiliatron. sufferings,
and triumphs, and unfolding the future glories
of his triumphant reign, when " the Gentiles shall
come to his light, and kings to the brightness of
his rising," and "all the ends of the earth shall
see the salvation of God," — and we have a repre-
sentation of a sacred orator, animated with the
most sublime conceptions, and delivering his mes-
sage in language calculated to arrest the attention
of every hearer.* — The apostle Paul at Athens is
another example.f Standing on the summit of
Mars hill, under the open canopy of heaven, with
the lofty Acropolis towering behind him, with
islands, seas, mountains, and the peerless city of
Athens, with the Porch, the Lyceum, and the
Grove stretched out before him, and pointing to
the splendid temples of idolatry, and to the altar
erected " To the unknown God" — he describes
that incomprehensible Being "who dwelleth not
in temples made with hands," who is the Source
of life to all beings, and who has " appointed the
times of their existence and the boundaries of
their habitations" — demonstrates the absurdity
of idol-worship — proclaims the commencement
of a new era, and the command of the Most High
to "all men everywhere to repent" — and declares
the certainty of a future state, a resurrection from
the dead, and a day when " God will judge the
world in righteousness" by the man Christ Jesus.
There is no doubt that in this discourse, of which
we have only a brief summary, the apostle would

* See Isaiah, Chapters xi, xliv, siii, xxiii, xix, liii, be, Ixv
&c. t Acts, xvii.

DOMESTIC EDUCATION.

151

Fclect all Hie surrounding objects, the facts of
lijstory, and the scenes of nMture, whicli could be
made to bear on the -ijoint of di.scussioi), in order
to illustrate the sublime topics of liis address, and
to produce an indelible impression on the minds
of his audience.

We liave another representation of what a
Christian preacher ought to be, in the example of
Messiah, the great " Teacher sent from God." —
Seated on a mountain, with the vault of heaven
above liim for liis sounding board, he expatiates
on the hai)pincss of the humble, the meek, the
merciful, the pure in heart, the peace-makers, and
they who are persecuted for the sake of righteous-
ness, in opposilion to all the false maxims which
had prevailed in the world; and, in a long dis-
course, exposes the hypocritical and corrupt prin-
ciples of the age, and enforces the true laws of
moral action on every class of his hearers — a dis-
course wliich, if it were not recorded in the Eible
as having been delivered by the highest authority,
would be considered by some as u specimen of
lec^ul preacldng. On other occasions he collected
multitudes on the sea-shore, and addressed them
from a siiip, illustrating his lieavenly doctrines
from the sowing of seed, the tares -among tiie
wheat, the gradual progress of vegetation, the
mustard-tree, the pearl of great price, and the net
which gathered fishes of every kiud. The objects
both oi" the living and inanimate creation were
presented to his hearers, as conveying sentiments
of instruction and piety. He inculcated upon
them confidence in liie care of Providence, from
the birds of the air and the flowers of tiie field.
"Behold the fowls of the air," which are now
flying around you, " they sow not, neither do
they reap nor gather into barns, yet your lieaven-
ly father feedeth them;" "Consider the lilies of
the field" growing on yonder meadow, " they
toil not, neither do they spin, yet Solomon, in all
his glory, was not arrayed like one of these." —
Such were the subjects illustrated, and the mode
of instruction adopted by those who were com-
missioned from heaven to make known the will
of God to man. How very different, both in
matter and manner, were those simple and sub-
lime instructions, from some of the meager meta-
physical discourses which are frequently read in
our churches, in a dull monotonous tone, and
which present scarcely one well-defined oranuiia-
ting idea to the majority of the hearers ? And
let the reason of every man, who acknowledges
the Scriptures as a Divine Revelation, determine
which of these modes of preaching is to be pre-
ferred— whether we ought to imitate the example
of inspired teachers, or that of fallible and erring
men !

Again, the subject of the education of children,
and the proper means to be employed for training
them in knowledge andChristian morality, should
occasionally form the subject of preaching. Lec-
tures might be delivered on this subject on Sab-
bath evenings, or on v/eek-days, and the general
principles and rules laid down, particularly illus-
trating by examples taken from the existing scenes
and practices of society. With regard to private
or /«?/u/?/ education, I know no book that would
serve for a better model, as to the manner in
which such instructions should be conveyed, than
Mr. Abbott's " Mother at liome," with all its ap-
propriate facts and examples. Even the mere
reading of such a book to a public audience, with
occasional pauses, remarks, and familiar illusti-a-
tions, might produce a more powerful practical
eflect than many elaborate sermons, whose object
b merely to prorx a doctrine which a single text

of Scripture is suilicient to establish. This is a
subject of paramount importance, and which has
been too much overlooked in the business of
Christian instruction. Most of the evils whi(;h
abound in society may bo traced to the want of
proper tuition in early life, under the domestic
roof, and to the ignorance of parents and servants,
as to the rational and moral principles on which
instruction and family government ought to pro-
ceed. Discourses should likewise be occasionally
preached on the duty of Christians dcooting a con-
siderable portion of their wealth for the promotion of
education and universal improvement in society. —
This is a duty which, in the present age, is scarce-
ly understood or appreciated; and yet, upon the
universal attention that is paid to it will depend
the future progress of knowledge and religion,
and all the bright scenes to which we look for-
ward in the days of the Millennium. But it is
needless to enlarge on tliis toj)ic; after what liaa
been stated in the preceding pages. (See p.
136, &,c.)

2. The effect of preaching might be increased,
by illustrating the facts and reasonings, connected
ivith religion — in so far as they are susceptible of
it — with sensible representations. In describing,
for example, the Jewish tabernacle, and its uten-
sils, models, or pictorial representations of such
objects, on a large scale, might be exhibited. I
have known persons who were considered as intel-
ligent Christians and mighty in the Scriptures,
who appeared to have no accurate conceptions of
such objects, and who, when the relative positions
of the altar of the bur-nt-offering, the sanctuary,
and the Holy of the Holies, were represented on
paper, along with the furniture and vessels in the
respective apartments, acquired ideas on the sub-
ject which they never before entertained. When
we consider the frequent allusions made to such
objects in the writings of the prophets, in the
Evangelical history, and particularly in the Epis-
tle to the Hebrews, it cannot be a matter of mere
inditTerence, that Christians should be altogether
destitute of clear conceptions of tlie scenes and
objects connected with the tabernacle in the wil-
derness, or the temple at Jerusalem; and there ai-e
comparatively few individuals who are able to
form L Jistinct picture in their minds of such ob-
jects merely from reading the descriptions in the
books of Moses. I have heard a preacher attempt
to convey an idea to his hearers of the Ark of the
Covenant, by telling them it was about the size of
a <e«<-6e(i, and somewhat similar to it in form. —
But it would certainly have conveyed a more pre-
cise and accurate idea, had a large drawing or en-
graving of it been exhibited to their view, and the
different parts of it pointed out and explained. —
Maps, on a large scale, of Palestine, Asia Minor,
and the countries around Judea, wliere the Apos-
tles traveled to propagate the Gospel, might like-
wise be exliibiled, when the preacher is lecturing
on the journeyings of Israel from Egypt, on the
Evangelists, or the Acts of the Apostles, for tlie
purpose of elucidating the narrations of the sacred
historians, and showing the relations of the seve-
ral towns and countries to which a reference or
allusion is made; for the interest excited by these
narratives, and some of the instructions to be de-
rived from them, partly depend on our knowledge
of the geographical positions and relations of the
persons and places to which the history refers. —
Similar exhibitions might likewise occasionally be
made of various objects alluded to in Scripture
connected with the agriculture, antiquities, arta
j|nd sciences of the Eastern nations, — on a know-
ledge of which a clear perception of the incaiiiug

152

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENi' OF MANKIND.

and refor.Micos of many passages in the proplieti-
cal and liislorical writings in a great measure de-
pends. The only-point to be settled is, whether
it be proper, in any case, to introduce such sub-
jects into the pulpit. If this point be admitted,
then the ipieslion is, whctiier wo ought to convey
a clear and distinct idea of the object, or un ob-
scure and distorted conception, or no idea at all.
For mere verbal descriptions can convey no dis-
tinct conceptions of the objects to which I allude.

Some worthy Christians, I am aware, would be
apt to imagine, that such illuj-tralions are altogeth-
er foreign to the business of religion, and that they
would draw aside the mind from God and spiritual
objects. But, I would a;;k, what do we know of
religion except the notions we have acquired
through the medium of the senses ? What ideas
have we of God but what we have derived from
the history of his dispensations recorded in his
word, audthe contemplation of his visible works?
Every fact contained in the Bible embodies in it a
■description and e.vhibilion of sensible objects, with-
out the intervention of which we could have no
ideas of religion at all; and the material creation
around us is an adumbration or sensible exhibi-
tion of the attributes of the invisible Divinity. —
His omnipresence and agency is m.anifested iJi ev-
ery object we behold. Every plant and flower, as
it springs upward to maturity, indicates the pres-
ence and incessant operation of Him who formed
it by his wisdom. Every ray of light descending
from the solar orb. is an indication of the presence
and glory of Him who is represented as dwelling
"in light unapproachable." Were we, in reality,
"spiritually minded," were our thoughts and af-
fections properly directed, we would see God in
every object and in every event — in the instru-
ments of agriculture, by which the earth is culti-
vated— in (lie microscope, which discloses to our
view the invisible worlds of life — in the Jewish
tabernacle, with all its furniture and utensils — in
the history of nations, and the revolutions through
which they have passed — in the whirlwind, the
tempest, and the refreshing breeze — in the ver-
dure of summer, the storms of winter, the frnits
of harvest, and in all the beauties and sublimities
of earth and heaven; — and tlierefore, whatever ar-
tificial representations can assist our minds in
forming distinct conceptions of such objects must
have a tendency to convey instruction, and to in-
spire us with sentiments of piety and devotion.

3. In order to diversify the topics of preaching,
and to render it more interesting and instructive,
the education of candidates for the ministry ought
to embrace a more appropriate and extensive range
of subjects than that to which it has been usually
Confined. It "is somewhat strange, that, in refer-
ence to preaching, the simile has been introduced
into our language, " as dull as a sermon-." There
is no class of orators that has such a multiplicity
of sublime and interesting objects and motives at
his conmiand, and so extensive a range of illus-
tration as the Christian preacher. He has the
boundless field of the universe, in all its diversi-
fied relations,' in which to expatiate, — all the scenes
of Providence which have been displayed in every
age since time began — eternity, past and to come,
with all its awful and glorious realities — the ruin
and the recovery of the fallen world — the virtues,
miracles, death, resurrection, ascension, and glorj',
of Him who is " the image of the invisible God "
— the operations of the Divine government in
reference both to man and to angels — the powers
oud agencies of superior intelligences — the, per-
fections of the Deity, and the grandeur of hisein-
piie -the moralprinciplesof the Christian system,

and the virtues which, if practiced, would reunito
all the tribes and families of mankind — the hopes
and fears of human beings botli in regard to this
world and to the life to come — the felicity and
glory of the Millennial church — the scenes of the
conflagration, the general resurrection, the last
judgment, and the happiness and employments of
men and angels throughout an endless duration,
— these, with ;dl the endlessly diversified objects
connected with them, form so many legitimate
topics and sources of illustration to every Christian
preacher. And yet, a sermon is generally charac-
terized as a dull and somniferous composition.—
If this characteristic be true, the fault lies, not in
the subject, and the narrow range of topics, but in
the preacher himself.

It is not a little unaccountable, that the series
of instruction through which students for the min-
istry usually pass, is everything but adapted to
j)roduce intelligent and eloquent preachers of the
Gospel. Almost the one-half of the time devoted
to what are called pAi/o.so;;/(icffZ studies is employed
in the study of Latin and mere classical literature,
while they are never introduced to the knowledge
of those more interesting and luminous subjects
which have a far more direct bearing on theology
and the objects of the Christian ministr3^ Even
the subjects of natural history, natural theology,
geography, popular philosophy, and pulpit oratory,
are seldom discussed or illustrated in the semina-
ries where they are taught; and hence may be
traced the limited views which are entertained re-
specting the range of illustration on subjects of
divinity, and the little effort which has been made
to excel in sacred eloquence. A preacher, in so far
as is practicable, should be a man of almost uni-
versal knoidedye. Without extensive information
on all the subjects to which I have alluded, he
cannot be supposed to enter with spirit and
energy on the illustration of such topics, or to ex-
hibit those graphical descriptions, and delineations
of physical and moral scenery to which I lately
adverted. The time employed in the study of
Latin, and classical learning, might be suthcient
for laying the foundation of knowledge in all those
useful departments of science and religion, which,
when thoroughly studied in after life, would
"make the man of God complete, and thoroughly
fitted for every good work." It is little short of
criminality to waste so much time in such studies,
while subjects of infinitely greater importance are
either overlooked, or altogether neglected. And,
therefore, if we would render the Christian minis-
try fully efficient for all the great purposes it is
intended to accomplish, we must introduce new
arrangements into ihe plan of our academical in-
struction. In connection with Biblical criticism,
and the study of Greek and Hebrew, in so far as
necessary for reading the Scriptures in the original
languages, all the branches of natural history,
geology, geography, experimental philosophy,
chemistry, physiology, natural theology; ancient
and modern history, sacred, ecclesiastical, and
civil; the progress of the arts; the physical, mora]
and political state of the nations — in short, all the
facts which can be ascertained in reference to the
operations of the Creator in the physical and mo-
ral universe, ought to be studied, in so far as is
practicable; and no one should be sent forth as a
preacher (unless inextraordinary cases) who hasnot
a competent knowledge of such subjects.* Such
knowledge would furnish inexhaustible sources of

There oppears no necessity for courses of moral Philo
sopliv in Christian colleges ami academies; as every one who
takes Eevelalion for his guirle, finds the purest, and moit
comprehensive system of moral science explained \nil illai-
txated by the sacred writers.

EXERTIf)NS PRECEDING THE MILLENNIUM.

153

Uln.ttration on divine subjects, V'hich would both
aiTcwt the attention, and increase thegentTuI know-
Ifilge of the hearers of the Gosr/ci. 1 have alwiiVf'
considered it as a characteristic of a good sermon,
wiuclithe hearers would ipp'eciafe, when an out-
line of the lending ideas .oatained in it cmdd be
iketchcd on paper or can- as. We can paint the
outlines of our Saviour ^ instructions, Paul's ser-
mon at Alliens, Moses' farewell address to the Is-
raelites, the speech of the Almighty addressed to
Job, and most of the orations of Isaiah, Jeremiah,
Daniel, and the other prophets. But this can never
be done, unices there be intf-rwoven with the
texture of the discourse tangible illustrations, bor-
rowed from the subjects to which I have alluded.
I may just add, that every candidate for the minis-
try should pay particular attention to the improve-
ment of his voice and manner of delivery, so that
he may be enabled to express his sentiments with
a distinct articulation, and with becoming energy
and pathos, suitable to the nature and solemnity
of his subject, — and not, as is frequently the case,
like a school-boy reading' his lesson with a disgust-
ing monotony. Where there is any natural or
acquired defect in the organs of speech, the indi-
vidual ought to be considered as unfit for the office
of a Christian preacher.

4. Divine worship should be so conducted that
praise offered to our Creator and Redeemer should
he appropriate, and according with the dictates of in-
spiration. In order to this, all the subjects of
praise should be taken directly from the sacred
oracles, and the poetical version into which we
throw them should embody, as nearly as po.ssible,
the very language of the inspired writers, and, in
every instance, the exact sentiments. — The Scottish
version of the Psalms of David — though contain-
ing many doggerel rhymes, and susceptible of con-
siderable improvement — is, perhaps, the most ac-
cordant of any with the language and sentiments
of the inspired penman. It is strictly coincident
with the common version of the Bible, and where
that version is incorrect, the poetical version is
likewise deficient in precision and accuracy. But
it does not appear to be incumbent upon us either
to use the whole of the book of Psalms in our
praises, or to confine ourselves to that selection of
sacred poetry. The books of Moses, the book of
Job, the prophesies of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel,
and Ilabakkuk, the Evangelists, the Epistles, and
particularly the book of Revelation, can supply
many appropriate passages to direct our medita-
tions in the exercise of praise. But I would lay
it down as a principle, that, in translating them
into English verse, we should strictly adhere to the
sentiments of the inspired writers, without inter-
weaving our own paraphrases and comments. I
liold it as an a.viom, that the inspired writers are
the best Judges of what is proper to be addressed
to God in praise, and that our praises ought to
contain nothing but the pure sentiments of inspi-
ration. In opposition to this maxim, we find In-
dependents, Methodists, Baptists, and others, using
collections of what are termed hymns in public
worship, and almost discarding the book of Psalms
•is if it were too antiquated a composition for di-
recting Christian worship. Many of the compo-
sitions I allude to are vague, enthusiastic, too fa-
miliar in their language, when addressing tli'^
Creator and Redeemer — in many instances exhibit
confused and distorted images of divine things,
particularly when descanting on the joys of hea-
ven; and their style and manner as well as some
of their sentiments, altogether different from tliose
of the prophets and apostles. To prefer such
compositions in our addresses to God, to those of

inspired men, is little else than to " forsake the
fountain of living waters, and to hew out broken
'•i.;ti'ri!s that can hold no water." I know not a
more glaring piece of contradiction than in the
pertinacious use of such hymns by thedenominn-
tions alluded to, since they acknowledge no creed
but the Scriptures; and when, in fact, there is a
creed — in some instances not very consistent —
embodied in the hymn book. The only ques-
tion to be determined is, Are inspired writers
the best judges of what we ought to address to God,
and ought we to be directed by them in our devo-
tions, or by the flimsy and erring compositions of
fallible man? Private families and individu-
als may be left to their own feelings and discre-
tion in this respect, but it is scarcely fair to
impose such compositions on a public assemUly.

There is another circumstance, in the exercise
of praise, which deserves censure, and that is,
foolish and vmneaning repetitions. Some tunes
ussd in public worship require the last line of the
verse or stanza to be two or three times repeated,
whether it contains a complete sense or not; other
tunes require half a line to be repeated three times
although the pause should happen to be in the
middle of a word; so that a worshiping assembly
chiming in with such an absurd practice, .appears
" like children babbling nonsense in their sports."
Such a practice is highly indecorous; it is little
short of mocking the Great Object of worship;
and were an infidel entering an assembly when
thus engaged, he might have some show of reason
for declaiming on the absurdities of Christian wor-
ship. Those who abet such a practice would do
well to consider the import of the Apostle's reso-
lution, "I will sing with the spirit, and I will sing
with the understanding also.'.'

II. The Union of the Christian Church would have
a tendency to promote universal improvement.

The jealousies and mutual recriminations of
contending sectaries constitute one of the many
causes which have prevented the advancement of
society. They have prevented the harmonious
co-operation of all ranks and parties in establish-
ing seminaries for the instruction of the young,
and for promoting the knowledge of religion in
our own country and in other lands; so that so-
ciety, instead of moving forward as one great har-
monious body in the path of improvement, has
been sliattered into a hundred different parties,
each moving in its own direction, sometimes
crossing the patli of the others, sometimes advan-
cing in an opposite direction, and sometimes
clashingand engaging in mutual warfare. This
is a state of Christian society which is much to
be deplored, and which requires the most serious
and solemn consideration of all denominations of
the religious world, as to the means which ought
to hi employed, and the concessions which ought
to be made, in order to produce a cordial union
of all who appear to be imbued with the S[)irit of
Christianity. Were this desirable object nearly
effected, numerous obstructions to the general dif-
fusion of knowledge would be removed, and a
new impulse given to the cause of universal im-
provement. A broad and solid foundation might
l)e laid for the universal instruction of all ranks
in the leading truths of religion, and in every de-
partment of useful science, without interruption
from those sectarian interests and contentions
which have hitherto obstructed the rearing of the
temple of knowledge and of Christianity. Liber-
ality of views, and a spirit for introducing improve-
ments into the social state, would be more exten-
sively cherished. National reformation would be
carried forward with more vigor and effect. Pa-

15-1

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

litical parties in the State — wliich are frequently
based on seclariuu inltTL^sts and opinions — would
be gradually luiderniined, and all who are " rijrlit-
heartedmen" disposed to co-operate in every liiea-
euro th:it has a tendency to promote the general
good. The influence of such a .state of society
would be powerful in procuring tlic ennctinent of
laws congenial to the spirit of philantiiropy, and
the dictates of revelation. Missionary enteiprises
to heathen countries would be cirried forward on
a much more extensive scale, and with far greater
energy and effect, than can now be produced by
the separate and insulated operations of sectarian
missions. Unity of plan and operation would be
introduced into all such expeditions, and a saving
in the pecuniary means by whicli they are carried
forward. Money, for all the purposes now stated,
would be collected with less trouble and to a much
greater amount; perhaps not only double or treble
the amount now furnished, but even tenfold- such
sums might be collected, were the spirit of Chris-
tian union, and the liberal views which would
accompany it, to pervade the whole range of the
religious world.

III. The knoiclcdge of the. Scriptures might be
pTonioted Inj illustrating various portions of them
with appropriate engravings.

We have, indeed. Bibles and Commentaries of
all sizes, from a 24mo to a folio, hawked through
the countrj', "embellished" with engravings of
different kinds, some of them not a little expen-
sive. But these embellishments are, for the most
part, only fit for the amusement of children, and,
instead of elucidating the facts recorded in Sacred
history, only tend to distort them. They consist
almost wholly of pictures taken from fancy, in
which the manners, costume, architecture, and
rural scenery of the Eastern nations, are grossly
misrepresented. Among these, we find views,
connected with Jerusalem, and other cities in
Judea, in whicii the houses are represented with
sloping roofs and large arched windows in the
modern style, and the streets crowded with horses,
and horsemen, richly caparisoned, like knights-
errant or modern dragoons, and holding halberds
in their hands. The inhabitants of these coun-
tries are represented as wearing neither shoes,
stockings, nor sandals, but quite bare from the
soles of the feet to the knees. In a picture of the
baptism of Christ, he is represented as standing
quite naked beside a small rivulet, while John the
Baptist is standing on the other side of it, holding
a long cross in the one liand, and pouring water
from a basin on the head of Christ with the other.
In a picture of the Temptation, Christ is repre-
sented as sitting in something like an elbow-chair,
with bare feet, a long robe like a surplice, and a
glory round his head, whil6 Satan appears address-
ing him in the attire of a modern female, standing
upon cloven feet, and having wings attached to
his shoulders. Such representations, which may
be considered as specimens of most of our Scrip-
ture prints, instead of conveying ideas of the facts
they are intended to represent, tend only to degrade
and caricature them. Nothing can be more foolish
and preposterous than most of the pictures repre-
senting the scenes of Scripture history, particu-
larly in reference to the anachronisms they
display. Burgoyne, in his Travels, notices a
painting in Spain, where Abraham is prej)aring
to shoot Isa^c with a pistol, and an angel emploj^ed
in providing that it shall miss fire! There is a
painting, at Windsor, of Antonio Verrio, in which
lie has introduced himself to Sir Godfrey Kneller,
and Captain May, surveyor of the works, as
spectators of Christ's healing the sick. There

was in the Houghton Hall collection. Velvet Bru-
ghels' "Adoration of the Magi," in which were a
multitude of figures, all finished with the greatest
Dutch exactness. The Ethiopian king is dressed
in a surplice, with boots and spurs, and brings for
a present, a gold model of a vwdern ship. Pous-
sin's painting of Rebecca at the well, has the
whole back-ground decorated with Grecian archi-
tecture. The same artist, in the picture of th«
Deluge, has painted boats, not then invented.
Some of the Saxon painters put our Saviour,
Noah, Abraham, and king Edgar, all in Uie
same habit.

Many useful ideas respecting Scriptural facts
may be communicated by means of engravings;
but such representations as those to which I
allude, should be forever discarded from our Com-
mentaries and family Bibles. Instead of such
absurd exhibitions, delineations of real objects
should be introduced, as illustrative of some of
the facts and descriptions of Sacred history. For
example, the plan of the Jewish tabernacle and
temple, the altar of incense and of burnt-offering,
the ark of the covenant, the tables of showbread,
the golden candlesticks, the brazen laver, and
other utensils, as described by the sacred histori-
ans— the instruments of agriculture and of music,
in so far as they are known, the manner of grind-
ing corn, the plan and form of the Eastern build-
ings, the war-chariots and battering-rams of the
ancients — views of modern Jerusalem, with plans
of the relative positions of Mount Zion, Mount
Calvary,- Mount, of Olives, the brook Kidron, &c.
— views of Bethlehem, Nazareth, Joppa, the ruins
of Tyre, Zidon, Babylon, and other cities men-
tioned in Scripture, as illustrative of the fulfill-
ment of prophesy, which may be collected from
the embellishments contained in the works of
modern travelers — delineations illustrating the
manners and customs of the Eastern nations-
maps of Palestine, Egypt, Arabia, Assyria, Idu-
mea. Babylonia, Persia, Greece, the islands of the
Mediterranean, and the Roman empire, for illus-
trating the journeyings of Jesus Christ, the travels
of the Apostles, the route of the Israelites through
the wilderness, and the descriptions of the ancient
prophets. Engravings might also be given of the
more remarkable animals, trees and flowers, to
which allusions are frequently made in the Sacred
writings. Such views and delineations might be
given at an expense much less than what is gene-
rally incurred in engraving the paltry and ficti-
tious representations to which we have alluded;
and they would certainly be much more conge-
nial to the taste of intelligent readers of the Bible,
and much more conducive to the illustration of
the scenes described by the Sacred prophets aai
historians.

IV. Knowledge and moral improvement might b*
promoted by abridging the hours of labor.

One great objection to the prosecution of
knowledge and general improvenient is founded
on the fact, that the bulk of mankind have not
sufficient leisure from their daily avocations for
such purposes. This is partly true in regard to
merchants' clerks, haberdashers, groners, apothe-
caries, and their apprentices and shopmen, and
those employed in spinning-mills and several
other manufactories. In these cases, shops are
kept open, and persons employed from six in the
morning until eight, and even until ten or eleven
o'clock in the evening. But there is no necessity,
in order to carry on the business of life, that such
long hours of labor and attendance on shops
should be imposed either on masters or servants
All the business usually carried on in shops an^

DIRECTION OF PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS.

loo

^a.iufjctotios could be transacted, without incon- 1
lenience to any part)', between the liours of seven
or eight in tlie morning, and six in the evening,
if proj.ier arrangements were made for that pur-
pose. When oiice the public is aware that certain
shops are sliut up at a particular hour, every one
would endeavor to su[)ply himself with the arti-
cles he required from such shops before tliat liour
arrived; and though they were to be kept open
until twtdve at midniglit, or one in the morning,
we know, from experience, that certain individu-
als would postpone tlieir purchases, until these
hours had nearly arrived. In order to prevent
any inconvenience to society, by the shops, of
bakers, grocers, apothecaries, or others, being
closed at an early hour, an arrangement might be
made to have one shop of every class kept open
to a later hour, in every street or district of a
town, so that, on any unforeseen emergency, arti-
cles of provisions, groceries, medicines, &,c., might
be procnred. Every shopkeeper of this descrip-
tion would, of course, have his turn, in succes-
sion, of keeping open his shop during these extra
hours, aud of reaping, in rotation, the additional
profits that might accrue, so that, in the course
of a year or less, all would find themselves on an
equal fooling in regard to the quantity of busi-
ness transacted, and the advantages gained, by
keeping open in rotation their shops until later
hours.

There is nothing to hinder the immediate adop-
tion of such arrangements, but that spirit of jea-
lousy which too much prevails among persons of
the same profession, and which prevents a friendly
intercourse among tiiem for concerting measures
for the good of the whole. A few obstinate and
selfish characters, in the spirit of contradiction,
would, doubtless, set themselves in opposition to
6ucli regulations; but as their sordid and avari-
cious views would be apparent to every one, they
would soon be despised aud deserted by the re-
spectable portion of the community, and would
suffer the natural consequences which almost
invariably flow from selfishness and avarice.
There is no man who, in sucli a case, sets him-
self in opposition to the general good of a com-
munity, that ought to be regarded as a Christian;
as such conduct is directly opposed to the j)recept
which enjoins us "to love our neighbor as our-
selves," and "to look not merely on our own
things, but also on the things of others." Such
an arrangement, while it could be injurious to
none, would be highly beneficial to all. It would
afford leisure for public, private, and domestic
intercourse — for attending philanthropic associa-
tions, or lectures on any branch of useful know-
ledge— for improving their minds in wisdom and
virtue — for instructing their children, and enjoy-
ing the sweets of domestic intercourse — and for
taking an active part in all those sclienies which
tend to promote the best interests of society. In
particular, it would afford an opportunity to mer-
chants' clerks, shopmen, apprentices, and others,
of attending societies, lectures, schools, or other
seminaries of instruction, for improving both
their intellectual and mural j)Owers — for want of
which opportunities many young persons of this
description rise up to manhood in comparative
ignorance, and easily, slide into the paths of folly
and intemperance. But, before such an arrange-
ment is effected, it would be previously requisite
that seminaries, such as those formerly suggested,
be established, for promoting the instruction of
the classes to which I allude, so that their evening
hours may not be spent in sloth or licentiousness.
Ill regard to weavers, masons, tailors, carpenters,

mill-spinners, and commf n. laborers, eight hours
a day employed in labor, inste.td of ten or eleven,
might be suHicient for all the purposes of society.
Since the invention of modern machinery, a
much greater quantity of labor than formerly
can be effected in the same time. It a[)[)eijrs to
me, that the Governor of the world, in peiinilting
such inventions for facilitating the ])rocess of
manufactures, evidently intends thereby that the
period of human labor should be abridged, in order
to afford scope to all classes of society for mental,
moral, and religious improvement, and in ordei
to i)repare the way for that period when " the
knowledge of the Lord shall cover the earth." It
ought, therefore, to be considered as a misa])pli-
cation of machinery when it is employed chiefly
for the i)urpose of enriching and aggrandizing a
few individuals, while the mechanic and laborei
are dejjrived both of the physical and moral ad-
vantages which it was intended to produce.

V. Knowledge might be promoted by a proper
direction of public amusements.

There can be no impropriety, at certain inter-
vals, of gratifying the mass of society with an
exhibition of public amusements. Uut such
amusetnents should always be blended, if possi-
ble, with moral and intellectual instruction — be
congenial to the dignity and the high destination
of man — and ought never to interfere with the
purity of Christian morals. We have public
amusements of various descriptions, such as stage-
plays, balls, masquerades, horse-racing, cock-fight-
ing, bull-baiting, equestrian feats and exhibitions,
tricks of legerdemain, rope-dancing, 6oc. &c.; but
most, if not all, of these, have an immoral ten-
dency, and some of them are inconsistent with
humanity, and degrading to the character of man.
Instead of such trifling and demoralizing amuse-
ments, such exhibitions as the following might be
adopted: — 1. Air Balloons, of a pretty large size,
which might be sent up into the atmosphere either
with or without living beings, and might be ren-
dered subservient for investigating atmospherical
phenomena, the different currents and electrical
states of the air, and other particulars. At the
same time, descriptions and explanations might be
given to the assembled multitude, of the nature
of balloons, the principle on which they ascend,
the mode of inflating them, the facts which have
been ascertained by means of them in regard to
tlie upper regions of, the atmosphere, the nature
and use of the parachute, and various details iu
relation to aerial navigation. — 2. Panoramas, or
perspective exhibitions, on a large scale, of ancient
and modern buildings, cities, towns, ranges of
mountains, sea-ports, volcanoes, grottoes, roman-
tic rural scenery, and whatever is grand, beauti-
ful, and interesting, in the scenes of Nature and
Art. Such panoramic scenes, while they could
not fail to gratify every spectator, would convey
to the mind ideas which could not he derived
from any other source, except the actual view of
the objects represented. — '.i. Camera ohscnras, on
a large scale, constructed in the manner formerly
described (p. 96). If these were constructed
with large lenses of twenty or thirty feet focal
distance, their magnifying power, on distant ob-
jects, would be equal to that of a tele,~C(ppe mag-
nifying from thirty to about fifty times, which
would show the distant scenery of a country
with great minuteness, and peojile, sheep, and
other animals, at the distance of many miles,
while more than a score of persons at one time
might contemplate such a scene. 4. 'I'rlescopes
constructed of a single convex lens, or a concave
speculum of a long focal distance, for example.

156

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

from t\veiitj--five to forty feet, might be fixed in
jertniii posilious, so tliiit several inuiviJuals at
the same time miijlit perceive their elfect on dis-
tant objects. Sir W. Herschel informs us that,
by looking with his naked eye on the speculum
of his forty feet telescope, without the interposi-
tion of any lens or mirror, he perceived distinctly

•■mm»».iw^.,.;^pm!:.

one of the satellites of Saturn; so that such an
instrument would present a brilliant view either
of the moon or of terrestrial objects. The man-
ner of looking at objects with such an instrument
is represented above, where A B represents a con-
cave mirror or speculum of a long focal distance,
C the focal point, a little within which several
spectators might stand with their faces to 'the
speculum, and view the distant objects behind
them. Were A B a large convex lens of a simi-
lar focus, the spectators could stand in a similar
position and view the objects hefore them. —
5. Philosophical and Chemical experiments, of va-
rious descriptions, on a large scale, might be ex-
hibited— such as the explosion of a bladder full
of oxygen and hydrogen gas, by means of an
electric spark, which produces a tremendous
sound — the breaking of a piece of glass or blad-
der, or a large square bottle, by the pressure of the
atmosphere — the burning of charcoal or phospho-
rus in oxygen gas, which produces a most bril-
liant illumination — the ascent of turpentine, when
tinged of a red color, through water in long glass
tubes, which produces a beautiful effect — the
burning of spirits of wine, after having been
boiled, which produces an extensive and beautiful
jet or spout of fire — the Chinese lights,* and an
indefinite variety of similar striking experiments,
all of which might, at the same time, be familiarly
explained.

Such exhibitions might be made either in large
halls, in squares, or in open areas in the neighbor-

* The Chinese lights are produced by the following com-
po<ition: — Take twelve parts of niter, five and a half of
Bulphur, one-half of orpiment, one-half of indigo, one-half
of gunpowder, all finely pounded and intimately mixed.
When this composition is set fire to by a burning match, it
produces a most splendid illumination. In the year 1814,
when peace with France was proclaimed, a friend of mine,
at tiie request of the magistrates of Paisley, got a large
quantity of this composition prepared, which was ignited
on the parapet which surronnded the spire of the High
Church of that town, and which burned for more than half-
an-honr, producing the most brilliant illumination over all
the town, and was an object of curiosity at Glasgow, about
eight miles distant. It would be visible from elevated
gitnations, more than thirty miles distant. Such was the
splendor of the light, that the birds rose from their nests,
and flew around it, as if it had been the rising sun. At
the same time, a balloon, made of the allantois of a calf,
was sent U(i into the atmosphere, and a number of large
oladders, filled with oxygen and hydrogen gas, were explo-
ded, by being held in the Chinese lights, which produced
soonds that were heard over all the town. The composition
expended on this occasion, cost about ten fiounds; but a
quantity snfiicient for a common experiment may be pro-
eared for two or three shillings.

hood of towns, according to tlie nature of the
exhibition; and the best instrumental music might
acconii)any tliem,and might occasionally be enli-
vened by the surrounding multitudes joining ia
unison willt their voices. Tlie expense of such
exhibitions would be far less than the sums gene-
rally wasted in the encouragement of horse-
racing, theatrical diversions, and similar amuse-
ments, and, wlule they tended to increase rational
information, and to gratify the principle of cu-
riosity, would be much niore congenial to the
taste of intelligent minds. There are certain
towns in this country whose magistrates give,
from the public funds, more than a liundred
guineas annually for the encouragement of horse-
races, beside the e.xpenses connected with the
various preparations and erections deemed neces-
sary on such occasions. Such sums, along with
a small contribution from each individual (for
example, an English penny or two-pence), would,
in general, be adequate to defray the e.xpenses of
such exhibitions.

VI. Knowledge and rational enjoyment might
be increased by erecting dbservatories in every tovm
and populous village.

These observatories might be furnished, not
only with some of the best achromatic telescopes
for viewing terrestrial and celestial objects, but
likewise with several articles of philosophical ap-
paratus, and specimens of natural history. In
studying the science of the heavens, there is
nothing more gratifying to those who have ac-
quired ix relish for this subject, than to view the
telescopic objects described by astronomers, such
as the moons and belts of Jupiter, the rings of
Saturn, the crescent of Venus, the mountains
and vales of the moon, the nebulse, the double
stars, and other interesting celestial phenomeneu
Such views tend to produce a higher relish f'^r
astronomical studies and rational investigations;
and no pictorial representations can .serve as a
substitute, or convey the same ideas as actual
observations by good instruments. But the ma-
jority of rational inquirers and of the community
at large are deprived of such views on account
of the expense of such instruments. An estab-
lishment of this kind might be set on foot, either
by a grant of money from a public fund, or by
subscription. All the instruments requisite, in
the first instance, would be, a large achromatic
telescope for vie^-ing celestial phenomena, and an
equatorial telescope, for illustrating practical as-
tronomy, and viewing the stars and planets in the
liay-time. These might be purchased for about
forty guineas (see article Astronomy, pp. 88-89),
and if an hundred and twenty individuals were
to co-operate in such an undertaking, the sub-
scription would be only seven shillings to each,
and, if an additional subscription of about two
shillings a-year were paid, in the course of a few
years the apparatus might be considerably in-
creased. One special advantage arising from the
universal establishment of observatories would be,
that the true tiine might always be accurately as-
certained, and the public clocks regulated accord-
inglj' — on which circumstance depends, in certain
cases, the determining of the altitude of certain
atmospherical phenomena, such as a fiery meteor,
or a luminous arch, when seen by different obser-
vers in places distant from each other.

^'11. The iynprovement of toirns, villages, and
roads, is intimately connected witli the advance-
ment of society.

There are lew circumstances in the state of
society which exhibit the folly and depravity of
man in a more striking point of view, than th*

IMPROVEMENTS IN TOWNS AND VILLAGES.

157

■tato of most of the cities and towns of Europe,
anil otiier parts of tlie world — not even ex-
cepting the British empire. In some of our cities
we have palaces, churches, colleges, and public
buildings of the most magnificent description,
while tlie great mass of tlie population around are
living in miserable habitations in narrow dirty
lanes, which are seldom or never visited by the
rays of the sun, or the refreshing breeze. In the
High street of Etiinhurgh and its environs, wliich
contain a greater number of human habitations
than any other spot of the same extent on the
surface of the globe, the inhabitants appear to be
huddled together like so many rabbits in their
cells. The houses are from five to eight and ten
stories high, with numerous narrow lanes or closes,
from four to six feet wide, branching from the
street, and running down a great extent toward a
hollow on each side. In these closes there is
neither light nor pure air, but a continual gloom
and noisome exiialations; and the physical filth
and darkness which abound are generally emblems
of the moral pollution and scenes of depravity
which are too frequently exhibited in such habita-
tions. Such abodes are incompatible, not only
with physical comfort, but with any attempts at
improvement in knowledge; and it is a kind of
degradation to the nature of man, that any hu-
man beings should be doomed to spend their lives
in such wretched habitations. It tends, not only
to debase the moral character, but to prevent the
expansion of the human intellect. Instead of an
extensive landscape adorned witii flowers and
verdure, and the view of the expansive canopy
of heaven — the inmates of such dwellings, for
mouths and years, have nothing presented to the
eye but a dead murky wall bespattered with filth,
which confines the range of their vision within
tlie compass of a fev/ feet, and prevents them
from becoming acquainted even with tlie common
scenes of nature. What has been now stated
will apply in a greater or less degree to almost all
our cities and large towns, and even to some of
our villages. Were we to inquire into the cir-
cumstances which led men thus to immure them-
selves in gloomy holes and corners, like bats and
owls, we should doubtless find that the abomina-
ble system of warfare has been one of the chief
causes of the evil of which we complain. Man,
living at enmity with his fellow-man, judged it
expedient to surround his habitations with a huge
wall for protection against the inroads of his
hostile neighbors; — and file problem to be solved,
in this case seems to have been, "In how small a
space can we compress the greatest number of
Inhabitants, so tliat our wall and fortificatioris
shall cost us the least trouble and expense?" Small
towns and villages which were afterward built,
and which required no fortifications, copied the
plan and dimensions of tiieir streets from fortified
towns, and thus the whole of our cities, towns,
and villages have been bungled and deranged.

Great cities, especially when ill-planned, may
be considered as great evils. The Creator evi-
dently intended that the population of the globe
should be more equally distributed than it is at
present. We are told that " He created it not in
vain, but formed it to he inhabited." Dut, how
monstrous a disproportion is there in the distribu-
tion of its population, when we find a mass of
human beings, as in London, compressed into a
space of little more than 20 square miles, and a
similar mass, in another part of the same island,
spread over an extent of 20,000 square miles!
There appears to bo no reason, except in a very
few cases, why any city should extend beyond a

Vol. I.— 36

population of a hundred thousand inhabitants;
and a city containing puch a population Khould
0('cupy live times the area that it does at present.
Towns distributed at nearly equal distances over
the face of a country, would bo of far more
importance for the general improvement of society
than a few crowded cities with an overgrown
])opulation, and more conducive to the healtli and
morals of the inhabitants. There is one circum-
stance that characterizes almost all our cities,
towns, and villages, except in some recent in-
stances; and that is, the exireviv narrowness of tlie
streets, some of which do not exceed 15 or 20 feet
in wiiith. Even in the United States of America,
where the towns have been more recently built,
and formed on more expansive plans than in
Euro])e, this evil is found to exist. The street
Broadway, in New York, which is so mucli
celebrated, and which is three miles in length, is
only bO feet broad, and most of the other streets
are considerably narrower. Most of the streets in
Philadel])liia are little more than 50 feet broad,
except Broad street and Market street, the latter
being 100, and the former 113 feet in breadth-
Most of the small towns, however, in the Nor-
thern States, such as New-IIaven, Northampton,
and others, are described by travelers as having
broad streets and spacious squares, and remarkable
for their cleanliness and beauty. In Great Britain,
most of the streets, especially in seaport towns,
are wretchedly narrow and dirty. In North-
Shields, county of Northumberland, the main
street is nearly a mile long, but so narrow that iu
manv places two carriages cannot pass each other
The New Town of Edinburgh, which contaius
the most spacious and elegant streets of anj- city
in Europe, is disgraced vi'ith two or three long
narrow streets, not above one-fourth the breadth
of the others, intended for the residence of the
lower classes; as if they had no right to enjoy a
free liglit, pure air, and a cheerful prospect, as
well as their superiors. — The following hints are
suggested in relation to the improvement of towns
and villages; though I have no hope of living to
see them realized in my native country.

1. Most of our crowded towns should be demo-
lished, or at least their streets ought to be widened,
at an average three times their present breadth.
Extravagant as this proposal may appear, there is
nothing'that stands in the way of its accomplish-
ment but selfishness and avarice. If the promo-
tion of the comfort and happiness of our species
were the great object of our ambition, all difficul-
ties would soon evanish, and all obstructions
would speedily be removed; and why call our-
selves Christians, if this object is not kept in view?
— 2. No street in any town or village should be
less than 80 feet wide. In large towns, where
the houses are above two or three stories in bight,
the streets should not be less than 100 or 120 feet
in breadth. — 3. Narrow lanes and closes, of all
descriptions, ought to be forever banished from
all our towns and cities. — I. The practice of
sinking stories below the level of a street, unless
for cellars, should be laid aside. It h;i3 become
an.almost universal practice in Edinburgh, and
other towns, especially in genteel houses, to have
a sunk story for the kitchen and servant's rooms,
as if they were unworthy of enjoying free liglit
and pure air, and their health in no danger from
the dampness of such apartments. There is
something absurd and preposterous in being at
the expense of digging a hole for the under story
of a house, when a kitchen and laundry could be
built behind the house, on the level of the street
which would be more couveuient and salubrious ■

158

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

5. Houses iniglit be built with flat roofs, with a
parapet surroiiii(Jing them, breast high, which
would form a protnenade for families in towns,
wliere they would enjoy an airing and a prospect of
surrounding objects, without removing from their
own dwellings. It would also serve for drying
clotiies, contemplating the heavens, and various
other purposes. In Eastern countries, where the
houses are constructed with flat roofs, they form
the sleeping pluces of the family during the sum-
mer months. The rain that falls upon them might
be so conducted as to supply every family with
water for washing and cooking victuals. — 6.
Squares, crescents, or octagonal spaces, should be
appropriated in different parts of a town, for
bazaars, or shops where all kinds of merchandise
should be sold; each shop having an apartment
or two connected with it, for the temporary ac-
commodation of a family. — 7. The streets more par-
ticularly appropriated for dwelling-houses, should
have verandas or garden-plots in front of the
Iiouses on each side, diversified with shrubs,
flowers, and evergreens, and, at certain regular
distances, a few forest trees, so that the street,
although 80 feet broad, would require only about
40 feet of pavement. — 8. In every large city,
open spaces, within the city, should be set apart
for pleasure walks for the citizens, and diversified
with trees, evergreens, shrubs, seats, and bowers
for shelter from the heat or rain. In small towns,
such rural v/alks should be formed to go quite
round them. — 9. A square plot of meadow ground,
at each end of a town, might be set apart for
public meetings, amusements, or exhibitions,
which might also serve for grazing, bleaching,
promenading, and other purposes. — 10. Certain
streets might be allotted for houses of one or two
stories, for the accommodation of those who have
it not in their power to occupy more stately man-
sions, so as to preserve uniformity in every street;
but such streets should be equally broad, and
adorned in the same manner as the other streets.
— 11. Between the different streets should be
garden-plots for every family, and accommoda-
tion for washing and bleaching, as also for erecting
workshops for smiths, carpenters, weavers, &c.,
wherever they are required — 12. Encouragement
shoula be given iu the neighborhood of large
towns, and throughout the country at large, for
building towns on such plans, and for transform-
ing our present hamlets and villages into more
convenient and pleasant places of residence. If
mankind were united by the bonds of Christian
affection, and if all were as anxious to promote
the happiness of their fellow-men, as the greater
part are to hoard up wealth and riches which
they can never enjoy, all the improvements now
suggested could easily be accomplished within
the course of a few years, or, at furthest, within
the limits of the next generation. But so long as
avarice sways its scepter over the human breast,
no extensive improvement, either in knowledge,
religion, or physical comfort can be effected.

The following engraving exhibits a plan of a
town of a moderate size, which, with a few modi-
fications, according to circumstances, might be
copied, in the formation of new towns- and
villages. In this plan all the streets cross one
another in right angles, and are supposed to be at
least 80 feet broad. In the center there is a
circular space about 240 feet diameter, from
which four streets diverge to each quarter of the
town. The central part of this circle might be
formed into a bowling green, diversified with
ehrubs and flowers; or a circular tower might be
erected in the midst of it to overtop the surround-

ing buildings, on the top of which a large camera
obscura and some telescopes might be placed, for
the purpose of surveying the heavenly bodies, or
the surrounding country. The four opening*
into this circular space might be about 40 feci
wide, or half the breadth of the streets, whicl
would afford the houses at each end of the fou
crescents a commanding view, not only of th

Public Walk.

□ nminD

HnGDDD

nnnnnn

I n" Ti n [ I

PLAN OF A STREET.

_ Oniaen, ar S^ru^Uru PUtt

Carrmqe vray
"a 2 a 2 2'^ s:"~""V ^2 *^

interior of the circle, but of the whole street in
both directions. Instead of a circle, an octagon. If
judged more convenient, might be adopted.—
Directly opposite this central circle, on the north
and south extremities of this town, are two
squares, each of whose sides is about 170 feet
long, and at the east and west extremities two
crescents, about 360 feet diameter. In each of
the squares, and in the middle part of the cres-
cents, a church or other public building might bo
erected; and the entrance to these squares, &C.,
from the country, might be by a broad arch-way
under one of the buildings. The principal shops
might be placed, and the principal business of the
town transacted, in the squares, crescents, and
central circle. The spaces between the backs of
the houses in the different streets might be set
apart either for gardens, washing-houses, or work-
shops for the different mechanical professions.
These spaces should be from 120 to 150 feet wide.,
A walk should be made to go round the whole
town, decorated with trees, shrubs, and bowers;
and on each side of the town should be a large
common or bleaching-green. The extent of such
a town would be about a mile and a quarter in
circumference, but might be indefinitely extended
according to circumstances. Such a town would
undoubtedly be much more commodious, pleasant,
and salubrious than most of the small towns and
villages that now exist.

VIII. Knowledge might be diffused at a cheap
rate by means of itinerating libraries. — Of late
years small libraries have been established in most
of our populous villages, and in connection with
christian churches; but the want of sufficient
funds prevents the purchase of such a variety of
books as is sufficient to keep alive the attention for
any number of years. In the year 1817, the
plan of itinerating libraries was suggested by Mr

ITINERATING LIBRARIES.

159

amuel Brown of Haddington, and, under his i
■uspices, was commenced in East Lothian and the |
/leighboring districts. The object is, " to furnish
all the towns and villages of the country with
libraries of useful books, and to plant them at
Buch distances that no individual may be more
remote from one than a mile and a half." "The
books are formed into divisions of fifty volumes
each. One of these divisions is stationed in a
place for two years, and the books are issued to
all persons above twelve years of age who will
take proper care of them. After that period it is
removed to another town or village, and a new
division is sent in its room, which after other two
years is again exchanged for another." By this
means a perpetual succession of new books is
introduced into each town and village, the princi-
ple of noveltj' is gratified, and the interest of the
readers kept alive. The books are kept for a few
years for the use of annual subscribers of five
shillings. They are afterward formed into divi-
sions of fifty volumes, and are lent the first year
for one penny a volume (provided it is not kept
longer than one month), and gratis the second. —
One of the principal features of these libraries is
their cheapness. A single library of fifty volumes,
with book-case, catalogue, labels, advertisements,
and issuing books may be procured for about
£10 at an average, as they are purchased on the
most economical plan. Were a British and For-
eign Itinerating Library Society established in
London, that could raise £10,000 annually, it is
calculated that, in conjunction with the small
Bums furnished by the readers, there could be es-
tablished, in the course of twenty years, a library
for every 524 persons in Great Britain and Ire-
land, taking the population at twenty millions;
and in twenty-five years, for every 294 persons,
which would be a complete supply for the wants
of the whole population. And what would such
R sum be to the British government, which is ex-
travagant enough to waste twenty times that sum
every year in bestowing pensions on those who
neither deserve them nor stand in need of them ?
The great object of these libraries is to promote
the interests of religion, in connection with the
ttudy of history, biography, voyages and travels,
*nd all the popular and useful branches of sci-
Bnce. They have been supported and patronized
oy the most respectable persons in the country,
ind have met with almost unprecedented success.
They have been inti'oduced into several other
tounties in Scotland and Ireland, and in some of
the West India islands, and even in South Africa.
The number of volumes connected with the East
Lothian itinerating libraries now amounts to
nearly three thousand. In some of the divisions
every volume has been issued about 120 times,
and many of them much oftener. Mr. Brown,
who has directed and superintended these libraries
for eighteen years, deserves the thanks of his
country for his benevolent and unremitting ex-
ertions.* In several cities and towns in America,
such as Philadelphia and Albany, libraries have
been established for the use of apprentices, belli
male and female. The Apprentices' Library iu
Philadelphia contains above 8000 volumes. Al-
though well selected libraries are of immense
Importance for the diffusion of knowledge, yet

* Mr. S. Brown is a son of the Rev. John Brown, of H,id-
iington, well known as the author of the " Self-Interpretin»
Bible," " Dictionary of the Bible," " System of Divinity,"
»nd many other works. His exertions,' and the beneficial
effects which have flowed from them, show how much even
An individual enfjrossed in an extensive business has it iu
kis power to perlorm, when his aims are directed to promote
the good of mankind.

no person, who has it in his power to purchase
a few good books occasionally, ought to confine
his reading to the books of a public library ; but
in conjunction with the use of such books, should
endeavor to furnish himself with selections of
some of the best standard books in the language,
which he may study at leisure, and to which he
may immediately refer for any particular informa-
tion of which he is desirous. Every general rea-
der should, if possible, be furnished with an English
Dictionary, a portable Encyclopedia, a summary
of universal history, and some of the best sys-
tems of popular science.

IX. Knowledge might be promoted by deline-
ations and inscriptions on various articles of
furniture.

We have, for example, many kinds of bowls,
drinking vessels, &c., made of porcelain or earthen-
ware, on which many foolish inscriptions and de-
vices are engraved. We have likewise carpets,
bed-curtains, handkerchiefs, &c., on which groups
of fantastic figures, and various distorted represen-
tations of natural and artificial objects are depict-
ed, which serve no purpose but that of exhibiting
a gaudy show. Now, if, instead of such paltry
devices, moral sentiments and maxims, pithy say-
ings, and sentences descriptive of certain histori-
cal and scientific facts, such as those formerly
specified (pp. 53, 159), were inscribed on the ar-
ticles to which I allude, useful hints might be
communicated and rendered familiar wherever we
turned our eyes, and might occasionally suggest
topics for useful conversation. In like manner,
were real objects in nature and art depicted on
china-ware, drinking vessels, printed cotton hand-
kerchiefs, window-curtains, carpets, and similar
articles, in place of the fantastical figures usually
delineated, which have no prototypes in nature,
a considerable fund of information might in this
way be imparted. For pictures, when true to
nature and correctly delineated, convey useful
knowledge as well as books, and sometimes in a
more pleasant and rapid manner ; and there is no
more difficulty in engraving real objects than in
depicting the distorted and fantastic objects which
are usually represented ; and in course of time,
every rational person would be induced to consid-
er everything as beautiful which is really useful.
In following out these suggestions, we might have
paper hangings and carpets diversified with maps
of the world and of particular countries — bed and
window curtains adorned with public buildings,
landscapes, views of caverns, grottos, volcanic
mountains, cataracts, steam-carriages, air-pumps,
telescopes, foreign trees, shrubs, and animals —
our plates, tea-cups and saucers decorated with
miniature pictures of similar objects, accompanied
with wise sayings, immutable truths and short
statements of important facts. In this way a
fund of sententious wisdom, in connection with
views of interesting scenery, might be introduced
into every family; which would tend to excite in-
quiry, to lead to improving conversation, and to
deter from the pursuit of vicious and criminal
courses. A king was said to have been saved
from being poisoned by his cup-bearer, by the
following motto engraved on the cup which con-
tained the poison, " Never bepin any action of
which thou hast not well considered the end." —
It is evident, that the above hints might be re-
duced to practice with as much ease and cheap-
ness, as silly and licentious inscriptions and clum-
sy castles in the air; and that almost every article
of dress and furniture, every garden-bower, and
every rural and architectural decoration, might in
this way be rendered subservient to human

160

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

knowledge and improvement ; provided society
would give encouragement to siicli devices. But,
hitherto, the foolish and depraved character of
man has displayed itself in this as well as almost
every other department of his actions.

X. The improvement of society requires that
ehanges and alterations be made in many of our
established laws, regulations, and customs.

The laws and practices to which I allude are so
numerous, that I shall mention only two or three
as a specimen. 1. All taxes connected with the
diffusion of knowledge should be wholly and forever
abolished. These include taxes on tlie materials
and the manufacture of paper, which, beside di-
rectly adding to the price of' this article, are found
to be extremely vexatious to the manufacturer,
and prevent him from getting his articles rapidly
conveyed to the market — taxes on newspapers,
engravings, pamphlets, periodica! works, and ad-
vertisements of books and other articles of trade —
and taxes, too, in the shape of entering books in
"Stationers' Hall," depriving the author or pub-
lisher of thirteen copies of his work, however
valuable and expensive, which in certain cases
will amount to the sum of £200 or £300. Were
these and all other taxes connected with literature
abolished, and an economical mode of printing
adopted, books might be purchased at little more
tlian one-half of their present price. In this
connection, too, it may be stated, that the charges
demanded for the insertion of adveitisements of
books in newspapers, magazines, and other peri-
odicals, are extravagantly high, and add, in no
inconsiderable degree, to the price of literature.
In consequence of the tax on newspapers there
are only 30 millions of them circulated in Great
Britain and Ireland, which is but the one twentr/-
ffth part of the number circulated in the United
States of America, which contain little more than
half the population of the British empire. In
England there is only one newspaper to 46,000
inhabitants. — 2. The postage of letters should be
greatly reduced. The conveyance of letters is
scarcely a fair subject of taxation, if we wish to
facilitate the interchange of sentiment and friend-
ship among mankind. It tends to prevent the
poor man from corresponding with his friends
and relatives at a distance — to prevent communi-
cations being sent to periodicals — and to abridge
the correspondence of men of literature and sci-
ence, some of whom have very little money to
spare. I have known persons of this description
taxed in this way, to the amount of three or four
shillings, and even of half-a-guinea in one day,
when such sums were imperatively required for
procuring the necessaries of life. — It is likewise
unfair and absolutely unjust, that the inhabitants
of villages, who are generally poorer than those
in towns, should pay more for lettere and news-
papers than others. While a person in a large
town receives a daily newspaper from London
gratis, the villager, only four miles farther distant,
pays for the conveyance of the same paper, twenty-
six shillings a year, beside paying an additional
penny for ail his letters.* The postage of letters
should be so regulated that all may enjoy an equal
benefit — that every facility may be afforded for
transmitting them to foreign countries, whether
belonging to the British dominions or not, — and
the charge for letters and packages should be no
more than what is sufficient to defray all the expenses
of the Post-office establishment; as is the case in
ihe United States of America. Under certain

• Here I allude to the Penny posts lately established in
B»Mt of onr villages.

regulations all proof-sheets of any work sent to
the author fc- corrections should be free of postage.
In these and ;nany other respects our Post-office
regulations require_a thorough investigation and
amendment.* — 3. The names of ships and steam-
vessels should be painted in large characters on
the most conspicuous parts of these vehicles. If
the names of ships are intended to distinguish
them from each other, it appears preposterous
and truly riiiiculous, to have the name depicted
on the lower part of the stern, which alwaya
stands in an oblique position, and which is seldom
or never seen, when approaching another vessel
or toward the shore. If the name of a vessel
were painted in large characters on each side of
the bow, it might be distinguished by a good tele-
scope at the distance of four or five miles, whereas
it is sometimes difficult to read the name of a
vessel on the stern at the distance of a few yards.
As it is interesting in many cases, not only to the
owners of ships, but to those who have frienda
and relatives on board, to be able to distinguish
any particular vessel, when it first makes its ap-
pearance, the hint now given cannot be deemed
altogether unimportant.— -4. The practice of pay-
ing waiters, chambermaids, boot-boys, and hostlers
at inns, servant-maids, &c., at private houses,
and guards and postillions in stage-coaches,
should be universally discarded — as creating
unnecessary trouble and expense to travelers, and
fostering a spirit of meanness, impudence, and
avarice, in the persons occupying such sitnationa.
It would be conducive both to the moral and
pecuniary interests of all parties concerned, were
such customs abolished. Mr. Stuart informs us,
that no such custom prevails in the Northern
States of America, and that it would be consi-
dered in almost every instance as an insult, to
offer such pei-sons a gratuity for performing their
duty. This absurd and degrading practice has
been handed down to us by the aristocracy, the
servants of whom are always on the watch for
gratuities from strangers and visitors. A literary

gentleman. Dr. , who had frequently been

invited to dine with Lord , was one day

accosted by his lordship, and fisked why he had
not for a long time past complied with his invita-
tion to dinner? "Why," replied the doctor,
" because I cannot afford it; I can dine at my
own apartments for less than two shillings, but
when I dine with your Iprdship it costs me at
least fve shillings — every one of your servants,
at my departure, holding out his hand, and ex-
pecting a half-crown or a shilling at least to be
given him." — 5. Another abominable custom
which prevails at public meetings, and which
should be discarded, is, hissing and groaning at
certain speakers, or at the sentiments they ex-
press. A hiss or a groan may display the malig-
nity of those who utter it, and their antipathy to
the opinions expressed, but it never embodies a
reason or an argument to confute the speaker, or
convince the audience of the futility of his senti-
ments. In all deliberative assemblies, every
speaker who conducts himself with decorum
should be listened to without interruption, and
facts and arguments brought forward to confute
his positions, if they be untenable. To attempt
to put down a speaker by hisses or groans ia
inconsistent with the dignity of an assembly of
rational beings — is characteristic of a rabble, or a
company of boors, rather than an assemblage of
men of "intelligence — and generally indicates the

* In America the postage for any distance onder 3M
miles, is 5 cents; over 300 miles, 10 cent*.

INSTRUCTION OF SEAMEN.

161

weaJcness of the cause which such conduct is in-
tended to support. — 6. Our civil and criminal
todes require to be simpliCied and re-modeled, and
fbrmed on the principles of equity and natural jus-
tice. Many of their enactments are repu'juant
to reason and religion, and inconsistent with the
dictates of philantliropy and common sense, and
with the spirit of an enlightened age. The ex-
pense of law i)rocesses, as presently conducted,
amounts to a proliibition of a poor man's obtain-
ing justice in any case where he has suffered an
injury; and the multiplicity of statutes and pre-
cedents, the vagueness of their language, and the
unintelligible jargon of terms and phrases con-
nected with them, frequently lead to almost inter-
minable litigations, until the whole value of the
subject in dispute is more than expended, and the
litigants reduced to poverty. Our civil code re-
quires to be canceled, and reconstructed, de novo,
on principles similar to the '-Code Napoleon" —
and our penal statutes require to be remodeled in
such a manner, that punishments may be propor-
tioned to crimes, and that they be of such a
nature as to promote the reformation of the cri-
minal.

The above are merely specimens of customs,
laws, and usages, which require to be either
modified or abolished, in order to promote the
advancement of society.

XI. The diffusion of knowledge, and the im-
provement of mankind, are, in some measure,
dependent on a friendly intercourse being estab-
lished among all civilized nations.

Hitherto, nations, even those that are adjacent
to each other, have acted toward other nations
with a spirit of selfishness and jealousy, as if they
were beings of a dift'erent species, and had no
common relation as brethren, or as children of
the same Benevolent and Almighty Parent. Har-
assing restrictions, duties, excise regulations, and
every other impediment, are thrown in the way
of travelers, when passing from one country to
another, as if the interests of one class of human
beings were set in opposition to those of another.
When a traveler passes from England to France
he must pay for a passport, and should he happen
to lose it he is treated as a rogue or a spy. When
he passes from Holland to Britain, and carries an
old Dutch Bible along with him, before he can
convey it from the shore he must pay a duty to
the amount of far more than its value. When he
is about to embark at Liverpool for America, his
trunks and packages are searched, duties demand-
ed, and a host of petty tyrants under the excise
vex and harass him in all liis arrangements; when
he lands on the other side of the Atlantic, he is
subjected to a similar ordeal; and when he returns
to England with a few volumes of American lite-
rature, his luggage is again subjected to a strict
scrutiny, and he must pay a shilling for every
pound weight of knowledge he has imported.*

* The following instance, among many others, shows the
barassing nature of custom-house restrictions; — A. David-
Bon, A. M., a ceiehrated lecturer on experimenlal philoso-
phy and chemistry, after having returned from Ireland to
Liverpool, had his paokages, containing an extensive appa-
ratus, thrown into the custom-house, which were not per-
mitted to be removed until they should be minutely inspect-
ed. They consisted chie8y of glass cylinders, globes,
receivers, &c., of all descriptions, which required several
days and much exertion to get packed; and thev could not
be nnpacked, in such a situation, without consi' arable ex-
pense and great loss of time, and the risk of having a great
part of the apparatus broken and destroyed. He offered to
nnpack them in the presence of excise officers, in the apart-
ments he had procured for the purpose; but this was refused.
He called day after day at the custom-house about the mat-
ter, but to no purpose. One underling gave him a sealed

Beside the spirit of warfare, which has so fre-
quently interrupted the correspondence of nations,
— such harassing and vexatious restrictions have
a tendency to foster a principle of antipathy, and
to impede the progress of knowledge. They are
founded on a principle of selfishness and malig-
nity, and, like all such principles, they frustrate
even the pecuniary object they were intended to
promote; for, in point of fact, so far from increas-
ing the wealth of a nation, they tend in many
ways to diminish its resources. Were all such
restrictions and exactions abolished, philanthropic
travelers might make* a tour through the nations
without being annoyed — the manufactures and
natural productions of every country could be
afforded at a much cheaper rate than at present—
and the hundred thousands of pounds and dollars
annually expended in keeping up a numerous
retinue of excise officers and underlings, would
be saved for the purposes of national improve-
ment. The most enlightened political economists
now agree that Free Trade should be universally
encouraged, and that extraordinary restrictions
upon the importation of goods are injurious to
the wealth and prosperity of nations.

XII. The improvement of society requires that
particular attention be paid to the intellectual and
religious instruction of seamen.

The British navy includes about 30,000 men; the
British merchant service about 220,000, of whom
about 100,000 are engaged in the coasting trade,
and 120,000 in the foreign trade. The coast guard
service includes 21,000 individuals; and there are
of fishermen, watermen, and boatmen, probably
not less than 50,000 persons, beside their families,
amounting in all to above 320,000 individuals, ex-
clusive of their wives and children. An immense
number of this class of men is likewise connected
with the United States of America, but I have no
data on which to form an estimate of their amount.
A great proportion of these persons have been
brought up in debasing ignorance, both of general
knowledge and of the truths of religion, and they
are too frequently addicted to habits of profane-
ness and intemperance. They form, however, a
most important and interesting class of our fellow-
men — they are frequently distinguished for hero-
ism, humanity, and a noble generosity; and, were
they generally instructed in useful knowledge and
Christian morals, they might be rendered useful
agents in promoting the good of mankind both at
home and abroad. The "British and Foreign
Sailor's Society " was formed some time ago, " for
promoting the moral and religious improvement of
seamen." Of this society, Lord Mountsanford is
president; Alderman Pirie, and G. F. Angas, Esq.,
treasurers; the Rev. Dr. Cox, and the Rev. T. Timp-
son, secretaries — gentlemen distinguished for their
activity in every department of philanthropic labor.
The principal scene of their labor is the port of
London, where the Gospel is preached, and prayer-
meetings held on board ships, every evening, by

card, containing about two lines of writing, to carry to an-
other underling, for which he charged half-a-crown; this >ast
gave him a similar card to a third person, for which tha
same charge was made; this third person gave another half-
crown card, to be handed to a fourth person who could give
him the requisite information, but this fourth person could
never be found; and thus he was bandied about from one
harpy to another, and filched out of four or five half crowns.
In this way, three weeks were wasted to no purpose, until
by accident he met with a gentleman connected with the
custom-house, with whom he was formerly acquainted, who
got his packages released, after he had been subjected to
much trouble, expense, and anxiety, and lost nearly a month,
during which his lectures might have been nearly finished.
Regulations which lead to such impositions and perplex*
Hies, requite to be speedily abolished.

162

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

agents of the society, who distribute Bibles,
religious books and tracts, and enter into conver-
sation with tiie seamen on moral and religions sub-
jects. They have already spent upward of £2000
in fitting up a chapel and other buildings, and liave
provided 140 "Loan Ship Libraries," comprising
4000 volumes, now abroad in many vessels; and
50 small libraries for the fishing smacks sailing
from tho Thames; beside the "Vestry Library,"
which contains upward of 3000 volumes, daily
open to the sailors in the depot of the chapel; — liut
the want of adequate funds prevents them from en-
larging the sphere of their operations. To com-
plete such benevolent arrangements, it would be
requisite, could funds be procured, to establish
schools on a moral and intellectual principle, some
of them adapted to the children of sailors, and
others for the rational instruction of adults. Lec-
tures on popular Science, accompanied with exper-
iments, might likewise be occasionally dehvered;
and the religious books contained in the libraries
blended with popular and interesting publications
on geography, astronomy, history, voyages, travels
and other departments of knowledge. Were sail-
ors well instructed and moralized, they might im-
prove their own minds by reading and conversa-
tion, during long voyages, and feel a superior
degree of enjoyment to what they now experience;
they might be the means of promoting both know-
ledge and religion in foreign lands — they might
soon be accustomed to contemplate with intelli-
gence the various scenes of nature which pass
under their observation, and record them for the
information of others — and thus become contribu-
tors to science, and benefactors to their species,
instead of "increasing," as they often do, "the
transgressors among men."

XIII. In order to carry into effect the hints
suggested in the preceding pages, societies might he
formed for the promotion of education, and the gene-
ral improvement of the social state.

From the operations of Bible and Missionary
Associations, it is evident how much may be
achieved by the formation of societies for the ac-
complishment of a specific object. The societies
to which I allude, including the Church Mission-
ary, Scottish, London, Wesleyaii, and several
others, now raise nearly £300,000 annually. The
general object I would propose to accomplish by
a new association, is as important as any other
which has yet engaged the public attention; for
it lies at the foundation of all other philanthropic
plans, and they can never be brought into exten-
sive operation until it be accomplished. If all
ranks were thoroughly instructed in knowledge and
religion, and, consequently, led to appreciate the
importance of Christianity, and the necessity of
its universal propagation, the funds of our mission-
ary institutions, and the energies with which they
would be conducted, would be increased tenfold
more than they now are, and few individuals
would be found altogether indifferent to such no-
ble enterprises. Such an association might be in-
strumental in calling the attention of the public
to the subject — in diffusing information respecting
it — in detailing plans for accomplishing the grand
object intended — in illustrating the noble and bene-
ficial effects which would flow from its accomplish-
ment— and in exciting the more wealthy members
of the community to contribute a portion of their
substance for carrying forward the requisite ar-
rangements. By such a society, with all the aux-
iliaries that might be formed throughout a nation,
it would scarcely be too much to expect that a
million of pounds might annually be procured,
which would render society nearly independent

of the caprices and partialities of civil rulers, or of
the grants of money which governments might
either withhold or bestow.

XIV. Before any plan for the improvement of
mankind can be brought extensively into effect,
the principle of avarice, as it now operates in so-
ciety, must be counteracted and subdued.

The great object of the majority of mankind ap-
pears to be, to acquire as much wealth as possible,
not for the purpose of applying it to the service
of God and the good of society, but to gratify a
selfish principle, and an avaricious propensity—
to make a splendid figure in life, to lay up por-
tions for children, or merely to glory in the idea
of having hundreds or thousands of guineas or
bank-notes deposited in a chest, in the stocks, or
other place of security. Every one seems to
think that he may use his money just as he
pleases, without being responsible to a higher
Power; and even many of those who call them-
selves Christians, are glaringly guilty of that
" covetousness which is idolatry," although they
are pointedly admonished that "the love of money
is the root of all evil," and, consequently, the
prevention of much good; and that " it leads into
many snares and temptations, and foolish and
hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction
and perdition." Nothing can be more irrational
and degrading than for an immortal being to
hoard up treasures which he never applies to any
useful purpose, and who only feasts his imagina-
tion with the idea that he has them, to a certain
amount, in his possession. Yet thousands of such
characters exist even in the Christian world.
What should we think of the man who took it
into his head to lay up, in a large shed or garret,
which was carefully locked up from public view,
5,000 pair of boots, 10,000 tea-cups, 20,000 coffe-
pots, or 30,000 cork-screws, with no other view
than to please his fancy, and to tell the world that
he had such a number of articles in his possession?
We should, doubtless, consider him as an arrant
fool; or even as a downright madman. And what
is the difference between hoarding thousands of
guineas, dollars or bank-notes, which are never
brought forth for the benefit of mankind, and ac-
cumulating fifty or a hundred thousand pair of
boots, spurs, or knee-buckles? How ridiculous
would it appear if all that could be said of a man
when he died was, that the great object of his life
was to lay up in store 25,000 tea-kettles, which
were never intended for cooking, and 30,000
great-coats, which vi^ere never intended to be worn?
Equally foolish and contemptible is it, to lay up
thousands of pounds or dollars that are never con-
secrated to tli3 glory of God or the good of man.
I know individuals who are worth £1,000 a year,
and whose annual expenditure does not amount
to above £150; and I know others who are worth
ten times that sum, who do not spend above two
or three hundreds a year; — yet it is sometimes
diflScult to obtain from them a guinea, or even a
few shillings, for a religious or philanthropic object;
and, were you to call in question their Christianity,
it would be considered as little short of an insult.*

It becomes Christian churches and ministers
seriously to consider this subject, if they wish to
see the principles of pure Christianity reduced te
practice, and worldly maxims undermined, and if
they would be instrumental in preparing the way
for the universal propagation of the Gospel, and

* The late distinguished philanthropist, J. B. Wilson, Egq.,
of Clapham Common, was once heard to say of one who had
been looked up to as a good man and Christian, "He died
wickedly rich," — evidently implying, that be thought anclia
man's Christianity was ezUemely doubtful.

RECAPITULATION AND CONCLUSTON.

163

the arrival of the predicted Millennium. Were
it not for the prevalence of the debasing principle
of avarice, we should, ere long, have seminaries
of all descriptions established among us, for train-
ing both the young and the old iu knowledge and
virtue, and "to glory and immortality" — we should
have our towns and cities cleared of every nui-
sance— our roads and footpaths improved — our
deserts turned into fruitful fields — new towns and
villages erected on spacious plans — intelligence
speedily and cheaply conveyed — the pliysical
aspect of the country beautified and adorned —
and the whole frame of society transformed and
remodeled, in conformity with the principles of
reason and religion. Were I to enter into minute
calculations on this subject, it might easily be
shown, that the wealth presently possessed by
civilized nations, were it properly distributed and
applied, would be more than sufficient to intro-
duce every improvement in society, physical,
moral, and intellectual, of which the terrestrial
state of man is susceptible — to raise the degraded
mass of this world's population to intelligence
and virtue — to bring into a state of cultivation
almost every waste on the face of the globe — to
aitersect every country with canals and rail-roads
— and to transform the whole earth into a paradise,
scarcely inferior in beauty to that which appeared
at the first creation. And those who expended
their superfluous wealth in such noble achieve-
ments, so far from having any of their sensitive
enjoyments diminished, would enjoy a happiness,
both physical and mental, far surpassing any-
thing which they formerly experienced.

RECAPITULATION AND CONCLUSION.

In the preceding pages I have endeavored to
illustrate a variety of topics in reference to the
education and general improvement of all classes
of society — particularly the physical, moral, and
intellectual instruction of infants — the advantages
which would result from the universal establish-
ment of infant schools — the seminaries which
require to be erected for the instruction of youth
from the age of six to the age of fifteen years —
tlie plan and arrangement of school-rooms, and
Uie objects and apparatus with which they should
be furnished — the principles on which school-
books should be constructed — the modes of teach-
ing, by which substantial knowledge and moral
principle may be communicated — the bran dies of
knowledge which should be taught to all classes of
the community — the rational and intellectual pro-
cesses by which a knowledge of them is to be
conveyed — the moral and religious instruction of
the young — the manner in which Sabbath-schools
should be conducted, and the qualifications requi-
site for every teacher, in such institutions — the
seminaries which require to be established for
young persons of both sexes from the age of
fifteen to the age of twenty years or upward —
the qualifications requisite for teachers of all de-
scriptions, and the seminaries which ought to be
established for their instruction — the practicability
of establishing all such institutions — the utility of
such improvements in education, in counteracting
crime, raising the moral and intellectual character
of man, and preparing the way for the approach
of the Millennial era — the principles on which
national systems of education should be estab-
lished— mechanics' institutions, and the improve-
ments of which they are susceptible — with a variety
of miscellaneous hints in reference to the diffusion of
knowledge and the improvement of general society.

Were such institutions once established throngh-

out every part of our country and of the world
at large, thoroughly imbued with the spirit ot
Christianity, and conducted with activity and
zeal — there can be little doubt that they would,
ere long, be accompanied with the most interest-
ing and beneficial results. We should soon be-
hold ignorance, foolish prejudices, superstition,
enthusiasm, bigotry, and intolerance, with all
their accompanying evils, gradually evtmishing
from the world, as the shades of night before the
rising sun. We should behold the human mind
aroused from the slumber of ages, exerting its
energies on obj<^cts worthy of its high dignity
and destination, and conducive to the improve-
ment and the happiness of the social slate. We
should behold science enlarging its boundaries,
the useful and ornamental arts carried to perfec-
tion, and the universe more fully explored through-
out all its departments. For we should then have
a thousand experimenters, and a thousand intelli-
gent obsei"vers of the phenomena of nature, for
one that exists in the present state of intellectual
debasement. New and interesting experiments
vvould be instituted, new facts explored, new re-
gions of the universe laid open to view, and a
nobleness, a vigor, and a lofty spirit of indepen-
dence, on every subject of thought, displayed by
the human mind. We should behold avarice,
pride, ambition, revenge, and other malignant
passions, in a great measure extirpated; and a
spirit of love, aifection, liberality, and harmony,
pervading every department of the moral world.
We should behold the Christian world approach-
ing to a harmonious union — the spirit of jealousy
and dissension laid to rest — the demon of perse-
cution chased out of the world — the truths of
religion and its holy principles recognized in
every department and arrangement in society —
the great realities of the eternal world contem-
plated in their true light, and men of all ranks
walking hand-in-hand, as brethren of the same
family, to the same glorious and incorruptible in-
heritance.

In the progress of such institutions — when
they shall liave been brought into full operation —
I behold, in the ])rospect of future ages, the most
important transformations, and the most glorious
results, in tiie improvement both of the intellectual
and of the physical world. I behold the surface
of the earth, at no distant period, adorned with
vegetable and architectural beauties and embel-
lishments— our deserts transformed into fruitful
fields — our marshes drained — our moors and
heath-clad mountains adorned with fruitful trees
— our gardens producing the fruits of every clime
— our highways broad and spacious, accompanied
with cleanly footpaths, and at the distance of
every half-mile furnished with seats and bowers
for the shelter and refreshment of the passing
traveler, and every bower furnished with Penny
Magazines and other works for the instruction
and amusement of every one who has leisure to
peruse them — our abominable lanes and closes,
the seats of physical and moral pollution, com-
pletely demolished and laid open to the light of
heaven — our narrow streets expanding into spa-
cious squares, cheered with the solar beams, and
with rural prospects, and ventilated with the
refreshing breeze — our densely crowded cities
almost completely demolished, and new cities
arising from their ruins, on noble and expansive
plans, corresponding to the expansive state of the
human mind.

I behold the climates of the earth meliorated by
the hand of genius and industry — by the cutting
rtown of forests, the draining of marshes, the im-

164

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

provcmcnt of sandy and rocky wastes, and the
univei-sal cultivaUon of the soil — the thunderbolts
of heaven, wielded by the philosophic sage, and
the forked lightnings, directed by tJie hand of art,
to play in harmless coruscations in the regions of
the clouds. — I behold locouioiive eiic/ines, steam-
carriages, and air balloons, brought to perfection,
txansjiorting multitudes of human beings from
one city to another, from one nation to another,
and from one continent to another, with a de-
gree of velocity which has never yet been at-
tempted.— I behold the savage restored to the
dignity of his moral and intellectual nature,
no longer roaming the desert wild and unculti-
vated Bke the beasts of prey throwing aside his
warlike bows and his battle-axes, directing his
faculties to the improvement of his species, and
to the most sublime investigations. — I behold men
of all nations and kindreds cultivating a harmoni-
ous and friendly intercourse; — the tribes of New
Holland, Borneo, Sumatra, and IMadagascar, visit-
ing the British Isles with the productions of their
respective climates, and holding literaiy and re-
ligious correspondence with the directors of our phi-
losophical and missionary associations, on all the
subjects of Christian and scientific investigation.

I behold the scenery of the heavens more fully
explored, and new prospects opened into the dis-
tant regions of the universe — the geography of
the ?noon brought to perfection, its mountains and
vales thoroughly explored, and traces of the exist-
ence and operations of its inhabitants exhibited to
view — the nature of comets ascertained — the
causes of the various phenomena which appear
on the planets explained — the construction of the
sun and the nature of his spots determined — the
sublime scenes connected with the new and varia-
ble stars, double and treble stars, and the many
thousands of nebula dispersed through the regions
of boundless space, more fully displayed — and the
Divine character and perfections appearing with
still greater luster and magnificence throughout
the amplitudes of creation.

I behold the ministers of religion expatiating,
amidst thousands of intelligent worshipers, on
higher themes and more diversified topics than
those to which they are now necessarily restricted
— not confining their attention merely to first
principles, and to a few fragments of the Chris-
tian system, but taking the whole of Divine
Revelation as their text-book, and deriving their
illustrations of it from the records of Providence,
and from all the diversified scenes of the universe.
— In fine, I behold the human soul, thus elevated
and refined, and endowed with multifarious know-
ledge, dropping its earthly tabernacle in the dust,
and, in another and a higher region of existence,
contemplating the economy of other worlds, ex-
ploring the wonders of Divine Wisdom and Om-
nipotence throughout the immensity of creation,
prying into the mysteries of human redemption,
rising nearer and nearer to the Divinity, expatiat-
ing amidst objects of beauty and beneficence, and
beholding new scenes of grandeur and felicity
rising to view, in boundless perspective, while
ages, numerous as the drops of the ocean, are
rolling on.

Let none imagine that such views are either
romantic or Utopian — they are the vecessary re-
sults of what will undoubtedly take place, when
knowledge and Christian principles are univer-
sally diffused. It is owing chiefly to ignorance
and the prevalence of malignant principles, that
Bcience has been so slow in its progress, that
contention and warfare have wasted and demoral-
ized the nations, that the earth has been left bar-

»«n and uncultivated, that savages have been per-
mitted for ages to roam without arts and instruc-
tion, that religion has been neglected, and that so
many evils, physical and moral, .have been iutrc
duced into the social state. Remove the cause of
existing evils, and opposite effects will be produced
— effects surpassing, in benignity and grandeur,
everything which has occurred since time began
In the present age, distinguished from all the
periods of time which have hitherto elapsed, these
effects are beginning to appear. All the move-
ments now going forward in the moral, political,
scientific, and religious world, have an evident
bearing on the approach of a more auspicious
and enlightened era. The rapid progress of
scientific discoveries, and of improvements in the
arts — the numerous and cheap publications, ou all
subjects of useful knowledge, now issuing from
the press, in hundreds of thousands at a time, and
read by all classes of the community — the erec-
tion of public seminaries on new and improved
plans, throughout different countries both of Eu-
rope and America — the establishment of philoso-
phical institutions, missionary associations, and
reading societies, in every town, and almost in
every parish — the extensive circulation of news-
papers, magazines, and literary and religious jour-
nals, of all descriptions — the steam-boats and
carriages which have been constructed, and the
numerous canals and rail-roads which have been
formed, for the speedy conveyance of passengers
from one place to another, in order to facilitate
the intercourse of human beings — the applica-
tion of machinery to the different arts and manu-
factures, for increasing the productions of human
labor — the desire excited among all ranks, even
the lowest, for rational information, and for inves-
tigating every subject connected with the happi-
ness of the social state — the abolition of slavery,
with all its degrading accompaniments — the re-
formations going forward both in Church and
Slate — the spirit of liberty bursting forth among
the nations in both hemispheres of the globe —
the conversion of savage tribes to Christianity,
and their advancement in knowledge and civiliza-
tion,— these, and many similar movements, viewed
in connection with the Divine declarations, that
"Wars shall cease to the ends of the world," and
that " the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of
Jehovah" — plainly point to a period which is on
the wing, when the light of truth shall irradi-
ate the inhabitants of every region, and when
improvements of every description shall be intro-
duced into every department of the physical and
moral world. It only remains, that, as agents
under the Moral Governor of the world, we arouse
ourselves from our present lethargy and devote all
our powers, and wealth, and energies, to the ac-
complishment of such glorious designs, resting
ai5sured,that"our labor," if conducted with wisdom
and perseverance, "shall not be in vain in the Lord."
In fine, if the world is ever to be enlightened
and regenerated — if the predictions of ancient
prophets are to be fulfilled — if the benevolent
purposes of the Almighty, in relation to our
world, are to be accomplished — if war is to cease
its desolating ravages, and its instruments to he
transformed into plowshares and pruuing-hook»
— if selfishness, avarice, injustice, oppression,
slavery, and revenge, are to be extirpated from
the earth — if the tribes of mankind are to be
united in the bonds of affection, and righteous-
ness and praise spring forth before all nations — •
if the various ranks of society are to be brought
into harmonious association, and united in the
bond of universal love — if the heathen world is t«

APPENDIX.

165

be enlightened, and the Christian world cemented
in one grand and harmonious union — if the laud-
scape of the earth is to be adorned with new
beauties, and the wilderness made to bud and
blossom as the rose — if "the kingdoms of this
world are to become the kingdoms of our Lord
and his Messiah," " the whole earth filled with
his glory," and his scepter swayed over the na-
tions throughout all succeeding ages — these long-
expected events will, undoubtedly, be introduced
by the universal instruction of all ranks, in every-
thing that has a bearing on their present happi-
ness, and their immortal destiny. If we, therefore,
refuse to lend our hel[)ing hand to the accom-
plishment of this great object, we virtually attempt
to frustrate the purposes of the Eternal, and to
prevent the present and future happiness of man-
kind. And while we pray to the "Great Lord
of all," that he would " appear in his glory to
men," and hasten the time when "his name shall

be great from the rising to the setting sun," we
only offer an insult to the Majesty of Heaven,
while we refuse to consecrate our wealth and
influence to his service, and to engage in holy
activity as "workers together with God." We
may legislate as we have hitherto done, for ages
to come — we may make, unmake, and modify
our civil laws, enforce hundreds of regulations
and enactments for the punishment and preven-
tion of crime — we may build thousands of
churches and colleges, and academies without
number — we may engage in profound discussions
and investigations, and compass sen and land to
make proselytes to our opinions; but unless the
foundations of society be laid in the rational and
religious education of all classes of tlie young,
our most specious plans will prove abortive, and
our superstructures gradually crumble into dust,
and, " like the baseless fabric of a vision, leave
scarce a wreck behind "

APPENDIX.

INSANITY FROM EXCESSIVE STUDY.

The following instance of the effects of exces-
sive study, and the danger of neglecting the
animal functions, is extracted from the "American
Annals of Education" for September, 1833.

Mr. Joseph Frothinghara, from Salem, State
of Massachusetts, was a student of the Oneida
Institute. In April, 1833, he was suddenly miss-
ed, and strong suspicions were entertained of his
having been murdered. Nothing was heard of
him, however, until a letter was recently received
by his parents, dated "Atlantic Ocean, 12th May,
1833,-500 miles east of Newfoundland Banks."
The following extract from his letter will show to
what account his abduction is to be charged : —
** While at the Institute, having nothing else to
do, and wishing to get ahead, I applied myself
very closely to study (particularly the Latin gram-
mar;, leaving off only when absolutely necessary.
You recollect I arrived during vacation, before
the regular course of labor had commenced, and
thinking I should have plenty of it in a few days,
contented myself with taking very little exercise.
The effects of this close application from sunrise
until nine in the evening, I soon perceived, and
several times was sensible that my thoughts for a
moment or two were ratber wandering. Yet I
did not feel at all anxious or discouraged, reason-
ing with myself, that so sudden a change of pur-
suit must necessarily cause me at first to feel
rather unwell, and that after a few days my mind
would recover its wonted tone. After the ."ith or
6th of April, the little momentary aberrations
became more frequent, and' how I spent much of
the time intervening between that date and the
8th, I am wholly unable to say. Some things
which I did I recollect distinctly, and others only
as we recall the vagaries of a dream. But after
the 8th, everything is vvrapt in confusion, —
' shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it.' I
have a vague dim recollection of feeling some-
thing as if standing near a mountain, when a vol-
cano bursts from the side. To escape the fiery
deluge I traveled by sea and land, but onward it
still seemed to move, and ever to rear itself a wall

of living fire. One only thing I can recollect
clearly. Finding myself in a strange street, near
a large stone building, I inquired of a soldier the
name of the place, and he answered, 'Montreal.'
For a moment I wondered what could .have
brought me there, but then came confusion over
my mind again, and not an idea or incident can I
recollect until yesterday, about 10 a m., when I
found m3'self in the steerage of a ship bound from
Quebec to Liverpool. I immediately commu-
nicated everything to my fellow-passengers (a
young man and wife), and from them learned the
following particulars."

It appears that he met them accidentally,
and embarked with them, after making most of
the necessary preparations ; and, after passing
through various difficulties in his way down the
river, reached the ship. In consequence of the
small sum of money which Mr. F. had, he was
consigned to the steerage, but kindly supplied
with necessaries by the captain. It was not
until a week's confinement with sea-sickness
(which perhaps was the very remedy which a
kind Providence saw necessary) that he reco-
vered his recollection ; and then, he observes,
his "mind, in an instant, was as clear and as
rational as ever." The conclusion of Ims own
letter will be more interesting than any abridg-
ment. "Tiie captain remarked, that he had some-
times suspected me to be a little deranged, and
my fellow-passengers thought my appearance
very odd at Quebec; but as I was frequently
engaged, while on board, in reading their books,
they concluded it was owing to 'absence of mind,
and a naturally eccentric character.' They could
hardly believe me, when I first made known to
them my utter ignorance of every transaction
since the time I met with them on the St. Law-
rence. They told me I had been uniformly cour-
teous and cheerful; and that, when we walked
from the shore to a house during the storm, 1
carried her in my arms about half the way, she
being too cold and weary to walk. They were
I well wrapped up in blankets, but I had nothing

166

ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.

but my cloak, and got two of my fingers frozen.
You can better couceive than I can express, how
Btrangoly I felt when reason first told me I was
in tlie cabin of a vessel; and when I knew, from
the pitching and tossing, that that vessel was on
the ocean. I am in hopes of meeting with some
vessel bound homeward; and, if I cannot return
in lier, to send this letter. If we speak no vessel
in which I can return, I sliall probably take pas-
sage immediately after arriving in Liverpool.
Until then, I leave all other incidents connected
with this almost incredible loss of reason. I do
not doubt that study was the cause, and thus are
all my hopes of going tlirough college blasted —
for I should not dare to make a second attempt.
But I think nothing of that. / am lost in wonder
that such a journey should have been performed
in safety in such a singular absence of mind; and
to think too that I even went through all, without
ever losing my money, is most strange. My pre-
servation appears indeed miraculous — but I know
not what to say. How thankful should I be to
the Great Being who has guided and directed my
wanderings — tliankful ! 'tis too tame a word.
Words cannot express my feelings, and I leave
all, for the contemplation almost overwhelms
me."

Mr. Frothingham has since returned and confirms
the whole account. " Would that his well-meant
but mistaken zeal in study (says the editor) might
be the means of saving many now in danger from
a result not less fatal to future plans, and of pre-
serving others from that partial mania — that pre-
dominance of the body over mind which we be-
lieve gives rise to not a few of the follies, and errors,
and faults, of sedentary men. We will only add,
as an example of a result more deadly, from a sim-
ilar imprudence, that one of the most diligent and
promising students of an institution returned to
his room after a long tour on foot, in perfect
health, and as he imagined, with a stock laid up
on which he might draw. He sat down closely
to study. The blood thus accumulated, which
rushed to Mr. Frothingham's brain, in this case
burst forth in a profuse discharge from the lungs;

and, after years spent in struggling, by the aid of
a fine constitution, against the diseases and the
effects of study, he fell, in the midst of the bright-
est prospects of usefulness, a victim to his hasty
efforts to be a scholar. Would not a thorough
knowledge of physiology preserve both sexes from
incalculable evil?"

The very singular case of Mr. Frothingham,
described above, suggests, both to the philosophei
and tlie Divine, a variety of interesting reflections
in reference to the action of mind on the corpo-
real functions, and to the goodness and care of a
superintending Providence. He must have trav-
eled more than two hundred miles by land and wa-
ter, before he found himself in Montreal; and, aa
he could not be supposed to have taken the near-
est road to that city, perhaps he may have travel-
ed more than double that distance, and crossed
several lakes and rivers which abound in the terri-
tory through which he passed. He must have in-
quired for lodgings, paid for victuals, found out the
different ferries where he behooved to cross, and
all, without being conscious where he was, or
what was his object. With regard to the effect of
study on the functions of the body and mind, I
have every reason to believe, that those studies
which are most abstruse, such as the ancient lan-
guages, metaphysics, and the higher branches of
pure mathematics, when closely pursued, havo
the greatest tendency to injure the organic func-
tions, and the mental powers; while natural and
civil history, geography, astronomy, and the other
physical sciences, being conversant about sensible
objects, will seldom produce such effects, when
prosecuted with judgment and moderation; so
that those studies which are in reality most useful,
will be found in few instances injurious either to
the animal or mental powers. Mr. Frothingham
was deeply absorbed in the study of Latin gram-
mar when his mental aberration was induced.
Were he to refrain from such abstract studies,
and apply himself wim moderation to the more
interesting departments of natural science, I
should have no fear of the return of his former
insanity

AN ESSAI

ON THE SIN AND EVILS

OB

COVETOUSNESS;

AND THE HAPPY EFFECTS WHICH WOULD FLOW

FROM A SPIRIT Or

CHRISTIAN BEIEFICENCE.

ILLUSTRATED BV

A VARIETY OF FACTS, SELECTED FROM SACRED AND CIVIL filSTORY, AND
• OTHER DOCUMENTS.

PREFACE.

The subject of the following Treatise, considered in all its aspects, is one which
has an important bearing on the happiness and improvement both of Christian and
Civil society. Impressed with a deep conviction of this truth, the author intended,
some time ago, to address his fellow-men on the subject ; but other engagements
prevented him from entering on the consideration of the several topics connected
with it, until about the month of August last, when a Prize, to be given for the best
Essay on the subject, was announced in some of our religioug periodicals. Being
then engaged in conducting his work " On the Mental Dlumination of Mankind,'' &c.,
through the press, and in various other avocations, he could not find leisure to finish
the Essay within the time prescribed in the advertisement. It was, however, sent
some time afterward, and returned, unopened, on the ground, " that the carriage and
por*.erage of it were not paid ;" and had it not been for a particular circumstance,
the package might have been lost, as there was no intimation on its exterior as to
whom it should be addressed and returned. These circumstances the author was
disposed to consider as little short of an exemplification of Covetonsness — the very
evil which the Essays advertised for were intended to counteract. For, although a
hundred Essays had been sent, the carriage of which was two shillings each, the
whole sum thus expended would not have amounted to above 10^. — which could only
be a trivial sum to the individuals who oifered the Prize. And equity required, that
those who had been at the expense of paper and quills, and who had devoted a
certain portion of their time to the subject, in compliance with the request of those
gentlemen, should have been freed from the expense of carriage, especially when no
intimation of this circumstance was contained in the announcement. But we too
frequently find, that it is much easier to laud a virtue than to practice it, and to
denounce a vicious principle than to act in opposition to it.

The Essay is now presented to the public by the Author, on his own responsibility,
as he originally intended, in the hope that it may not be altogether inefficient, in
counteracting the principle of Covetonsness, and stimulating the Christian to those
noble acts of Beneficence by which physical and moral evil may be prevented,
religious society improved, and the world enlightened and regenerated. Having been
composed in the course of four or five months, and in the midst of many interruptions
and avocations, it is hoped, the critical reader will candidly overlook any slight
inaccuracies it may contain.

Should any pecuniary emolument be derived from the sale of this volume, the
greater portion of it will be devoted to the purpose of social and religiou*
improvement.

Brouqhty Ferry, near Dundee.

(iii)

CONTENTS.

Faob.

Introduction. — Remarks on the necessity of giving more particular attention to the duties of
practical Christianity, &c. Plan of the Essay 9

CHAPTER I.

ON THE DISPOSITION OR PROPENSITY DESIGNATED BY COVETOU3NES3 AND THE VARIOUS MODES
IN WHICH IT HAS OPERATED IN THE WORLD, AND IN CHRISTIAN SOCIETY.

General remarks — Description of covetousness 11

SECTION I.

ON THE OPERATIONS AND EFFECT'S OP COVETOUSNESS A3 DISPLAYED IN THE WORLD AT LARGE.

Historical sketch of its operations and progress in ancient times. Modern examples — plunder
of Mexico and Peru — Slave trade — Colonization — Piracy, &c 11

SECTI ON II.

an THE EFFECT'S OF COVETOUSNESS, AND THE MANNER IN WHICH IT HAS DISPLAYED ITSELF AMONG
THOSE WHO ACKNOWLEDGE THE AUTHORITY OF CHRISTIANITY, AND PROFESS TO SUBMIT
TO ITS DICTATES.

Benevolent dispositions of the first Christians, &c. Progress of covetousness in the Christian
Church — rapaciousness of the Popes and Bishops — sale of indulgences — vast quantity of
wealth extoited from the people by the Romish Church, on the continent and in England-
practices of the Pope's Nephews — extracts from the writings of an Italian Catholic, &c.
Operations of covetousness in Protestant and Evangelical churches. Miscellaneous remarks.
1. Practice of hoarding money and acquiring houses and lands. Description of a miser.
Various examples of avarice. 2. Gratifying a desire for ostentatious display 3. Providing
portions for children. 4. Covetousness in the mercantile transactions of mankind. 5. In
cases of bankruptcy. 6. As it sometimes appears in the conduct of ministers of religion.
Miscellaneous examples, in people professing evangelical religion. Covetousness of Great
Britain in a national point of view. Various instances — Revenues derived from the support
of idolatry in India — scenes of Juggernaut — description of his temple, &c. — Pilgrim
hunters — Genereil reflections 14

CHAPTER II.

ON THE ABSURDITY AND IRRATIONALITY OF CO'S'ETOUSNESS

Proof of the irrationality of covetousness — from the noble intellectual faculties with which man is
endowed, — from the absolute want of utility, which characterizes avarice, — from its incapacity
of affording rational enjoyment, — from the consideration of man's immortal destination 30

CHAPTER III.

ON THE INCONSISTENCY OF COVETOUSNESS WITH THE WORD OF GOD.

The idolatry and atheism of covetousness particularly illustrated. It forms an impassable
barrier to the liingdom of heaven, — inconsistent with the idea of our being redeemed by the
blood of Christ, — inconsistent with love to God, — its malignity demonstrated from the nume-
rous cautions and exhortations of Scripture, in relation to this propensity. Selection of a

variety of Scriptural declarations on this subject. General remarks and reflections 34

(r)

yi CONTENTS.

CH.APTER IV.

ON THE EVILS WHICH FLOW FROM C0VET0USNES3.

The covetous man a thief and robber. He robs his Maker, — he robs the poor and distressed,—
he robs his family and himself, — he robs society. Covetousness leads to falsehood and injus-
tice,— destroys natural feeling and tenderness of conscience, — leads to the indulgence of
mnrderous wishes, and to murder itself, — prevents the administration of the law, and the
ends of public justice (illustrated with examples), — transforms many of the ministers of
religion into hunters after places and pensions, — leads to presumption and a virtual denial of
Providence, — has produced all the public evils, wars, &c., which have prevailed in the
world, — prevents the extension of the Christian church and the improvement of society.
What would be the consequences were it universally to prevail, — it infallibly leads to misery
ill the life to come 44

CHAPTER V.

ON THE PRIXCIPLES BY WHICH CHRISTIANS SHOULD BE DIRECTED IN THE APPLICATION OF THEIR
WEALTH.

55

Preliminary remarks — general obsei-vations connected with this topic — God the original source
of wealth. Riches a trust to be employed in his service. Christians bound to such appropri-
ation, from a consideration of the love of Christ. A particular inquiry into the proportion of wealth
which should be directly consecrated to the service of God. General remarks and maxims on
this point — considerations to direct us in this particular. — 1. Proportion of wealth dedicated
to God, under the Jewish economy. Proportion of wealth which might be raised in Great
Britain for religious and philanthropic purposes. 2. Voluntary contributions made at different
times under the 0. T. dispensation. Offerings at the erection and dedication of the tabernacle, —
at the dedication of the temple, offerings by Josiah, Hezekiah, David, &c. 3. Predictions of
the prophets in reference to the liberality to be displayed by the Christian Church. Remarks
on these predictions. Amount of what might be raised in our country. Appeal to Christians 55

CHAPTER VI.

ON THE BENEFITS WHICH WOULD FLOW TO THE WORLD, WERE COVETOUSNESS UNDERMINED, AND

AN OPPOSITE PRINCIPLE PREVAILING IN CHRISTIAN SOCIETY. 63

General remarks. Provision for the external comfort of the poor and destitute. State of the
poor in Ireland, in Italy, &c. Method of promoting the best interests of the poor. Improve-
ment of general society — removal of physical evils. Original and present state of the globe —
evils which require to be removed, and scriptural predictions in relation to this subject. Uni-
versal education would be promoted. Utility of, in reference to the spread of the gospel.
Defects in this respect, in the present state of society. Expense of establishing universal
instruction. Promotion of science and art. Connection of science and art with the objects
of religion. The progress of Christianity would be promoted, — exertions requisite for this
end, and the extent of tlie object to be accomplished, — reflections on this subject, and appeal
to Christians. Preparations might soon be made for the speedy arrival of the millenniuvu
Predictions in relation to this period — by what means it will be introduced — arrangements
requisite for preparing the way for its arrival — addresses to professing Christians on this subject 83

CHAPTER VII.

ON THE MEANS TO BE EMPLOYED FOR THE COUNTERACTING OF COVETOUSNESS

introductory remarks — frequent preaching and public discussions on this subject. Duty of
Christian churches in relation to their members. More particular care requisite than hitherto,
for detecting the latent principle of avarice, and for exciting to liberality. Acts which display
the covetous principle — various examples illustrative of this subject. The churches of Christ
should now begin to distinguish themselves by a spirit of liberality. Examples of liberality,
in Britain and America, calculated to stimulate Christians to this duty. Various remarks on
this subject. Associations might be formed for encouraging liberality and counteracting
avarice 76

CONTENTS. vii

CHAPTER VII I.

CONSIDERATIONS ADDRKSSKD TO PROFESSING CHRISTIANS, AND OTHERS, AS TO THEIR AFFECTIONS

AND CONDUCT IN RELATION TO COVETOUSNESS. 83

I. To professing Christians in general. 1. ( !od claims the supreme affection of the heart, which
is incompatible with the indulgence of covetousness. Hints for self-examination on this
point. 2. Considerations founded on our redemption by Christ. 3. On the privileges and
prospects of Christians 83

II. Considerations addressed to the Covetous. Wealth cannot secure from misery and calamity.
Riches uncertain, as to their enjoyment. Folly and unreasonableness of covetous affections —
illustrated from facts, and various considerations. Light in which wealth will be viewed at
the hour of death. Difficulty of subduing the covetous propensity. Covetous affections
necessarily unfit men for the enjoyment of celestial bliss. Appeals on this subject 85

III. Considerations addressed to Christians on whom God has bestowed wealth and influence.
Expostulations with such, on the proportion of wealth they ought to allot for the promotion
of religion, &c. Necessity of extraordinary exertions being made for the renovation of
society. Inconsistency of professors of religion, in not bequeathing, at their decease, a
portion of their wealth for religious purposes. Illustration of the spirit and import of our
Saviour's maxim, '• It is more blessed to give than to receive." Considerations founded on the
fleeting nature of earthly things, — on the promises and declarations of God — selection of
Scripture passages calculated to inspire the Christian with contentment and dependence on
God for his temporal support. Sentiments on this subject, and anecdote from Dr. Witherspoon 89

APPENDIX.

Statements in relation to the condition of the lower classes in Ireland. Reflections on these
statements. g|l

Vol. I.— 37

ESSAY

ON

COVETOUSNESS, OR THE LOVE OF MONEY.

INTRODUCTION.

Christia.vity has now subsisted in the world
throughout the lapse of eighteen hundred years.
During the first periods of its existence, when its
facts and doctrines were propagated in their na-
tive purity and simplicity, uncontaniinated with
Pagan ceremonies and worldly maxims; its pro-
gress was rapid, and was accompanied with many
astonishing and auspicious results. The empire
of the Prince of Darkness was shaken to its cen-
ter, tlie altars of Paganism were overturned, its
oracles struck dumb, its worship forsaken, and its
temples leveled with the ground. "The word
of the Lord had free course and was glorified,"
and multitudes both of men and women, of the
higher and the lower ranks of society, formerly
mmersed in all the vices and abominations of
heathenism, were " turned from darkness to light,
and from the worship of dumb idols to the service
of the living God." By the unwearied labors of
the Apostles and their successors, the knowledge
of the true God was communicated to tiie inhabi-
tants of the Grecian Islands, Asia Minor, the
Northern coasts of Africa, the Southern shores
of Europe, and throughout the greater part of the
widely extended Roman Empire, where the abo-
minations of Pagan Idolatry had, for ages, debas-
ed and demoralized the minds of men. The
darkness of heathenism began gradually to vanish
before the light of the " Sun of Righteousness,"
and a new and happier era appeared to dawn upon
the world. The influence of Christian principle
was felt in all its force ; love knit together, in
"the bond of perfection," the various members
of the Church; a spirit of holy fortitude, and of
non-conformity to the world, pervaded the minds
of the disciples of Jesus, and the " lust of the eye,
tlie lust of the flesh, and the pride of life," were
considered as unworthy the pursuit of those who
accounted themselves " strangers and pilgrims
upon earth," and travelers to a blessed immor-
tality.

Little more than two centuries, however, had
elapsed, before a worldly spirit, and a " love of
pre-eminence," began to appear, and to difl^use
their malign influence throughout every depart-
ment of the visible church, — which prepared the
way for the unhappy dissensions which afterward
arose, and for the long reign of Antichrist over
♦he nations. During the period of more than a
housnnd j'ears " darknos" again "covered the
earth, and gross darkness the people." Pagan
maxins and ceremonies began to be blended with
the pure precepts and sublime doctrines of the
Gospel ; vain speculations were indulged on ques-
tions which the limited faculties of man are un-
able to resolve; a multitude of unmeaning rites

were substituted in the room of love to God and
man; pride, and a desire of domination, usurped
the place of meekness and humility; the power
of the clergy was augmented; the bishops aspired
after wealtli, magnificence, and splendor ; and
their avarice, extortion, and licentiousness, at
length became notorious,even to a proverb. Er-
rors in religion, whether real or supposed, were
punished by civil penalties and bodily tortures;
and the select few who adhered to the cause and
" testimony of Jesus," and lifted up their voice
against such abominations, were reproached and
persecuted, and obliged to seek for shelter in deserts
and mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.
Hence it happened, that the spirit of genuine re-
ligion was almost evaporated; carnal maxims and
policy were introduced; the love of riches and
aggrandizement began to gain the ascendency; and
thus a barrier was interposed to the propagatiou
of tlie pure gospel of Jesus Christ, and to the re-
novation of the world. Even since the Reforma-
tion from Popery, it is amazing how little practi-
cal influence Christianity has obtained over th«
nations who profess to have submitted to its au-
thority. While its leading principles and precepts
are not called in question, as matters of mere
opinion, the great majority of professing Christians
seem to act as if they were to be left entirely out
of view in their ordinary deportment, or as if
there were no specific diflerence between Chris-
tian principles and the corrupt maxims of the
world.

It is a fact which cannot be denied, that, con-
sidering the long period which has intervened
since its first promulgation, Christianity has never
yet produced all the practical and beneficent
effects which might have been expected from a
religion introduced by the authority of heaven,
and confirmed by a series of the most august and
striking miracles, — nor has its empire been ex-
tended throughout the nations in any degree pro-
portionable to the zeal of its first propagators, and
to the rapidity and the extent of its progress after it
was first announc.d to the world. This is a fact
which has filled its sincere friends with deep re-
gret, and which has been held up by its adversa-
ries as a presumptive proof that its claims to a
Divine origin are unfounded. Although there are,
doubtless, to be found, in the principles of the
Divine government, reasons inscrutable by us,
wliy Christianity has been so slow in its progress
and so limited in its effects; yet, I presume, that
one grand reason Js to be found in the fact, that
the great majority of its professors have paid more
attention to its theory than to its radical requisi-
tions— that its original record has been too much

(9)

10

INTRODUCTION.

neglected, and human systems substituted' in its
place, and that contentions about mutters of
"doubtful disputation"' have occu[)ied the room
of fervent piety and practical jrodliness. No na-
tion under heaven has yet recognized its principles
and maxims, in all their extent, in its civil and
criminal code, in its legislative enactments, in its
colonial transactions, and in its intercourse with
other nations. No Ch;-istian church has yc-t been
formed on the principle of a full and unreserved
recognition of its precepts and laws, in all their
bearings and practical applications; and even the
most exemplary Chiistiuns, in their general de-
portment, and particularly in the a[)j)lication of
theJr wealth, fall far short of wliat the religion of
the Bible inculcates.

It is now high time that Christianity were re-
cognized in all its holy principles and preceptive
requirements, and tliat its votaries show to the
world that they have imbibed its heavenly spirit,
and are determined to rise superior to the grovel-
ijig atfections and the carnal policy of worldly
men, and to follow the footsteps of tlieir divine
leader, and of his holy prophets and apostles. If
we expect to behold (he moral world regenerated,
and Zion appear " beautiful and glorious in the
eyes of the nations," we must exhibit our religion,
not merely in theory, but in its renovating and
beneficent effects. If we ask surrounding nations
to embrace its doctrines, and introduce among
their people its divine institutions; if we entreat
the tribes of the heathen world to listen to its
stupendous facts and to receive its ordinances and
laws; or if we urge the infidel to examine with
attention the evidences of its divine original, they
have a right to demand from us proofs and ex-
amples of its benignant tendency and of its har-
monious and beneficent effects. If w^e could show,
that, wherever it is professed, it uniformly pro-
duces love, brotherly affection, forgiveness of in-
juries, peace and harmony, philanthropy, tempe-
rance, charity, and a spirit of noble generosity;
if we could say with Lactantius, one of the early
Apologists, "give me a man that is wrathful, ma-
licious, revengeful, and, with a few words of God,
I will make him calm as a lamb; give me one that
is a covetous, niggardly miser, and I will give you
him again liberal, bountiful, and dealing out of
his money by handsful; give me one that is fear-
ful of pain and death, and immediately he shall
despise racks and crosses, and the most dreadful
punishments you can invent;" — could we, with
truth and sincerity, propose to the world such
arguments and examples in behalf of our holy
religion, — could we show that in every case where
a Christian or a Christian society is to be found,
such virtues are uniformly displayed; the pro-
gress of Christianity over the globe would soon
be accelerated, and " righteousness and praise
would " ere long, " spring forth before all the na-
tions." And, I verily believe, that, until we can
exhibit our religion in all its amiable and benefi-
cent effects, its progress will be comparatively
feeble, and its enemies numerous and powerful.
We have been long engaged in controversies about
thfological opinions ; and, in such contentions,
"lave toofrequent/y overlooked the grand practical

objects which it is the design of Christianity to
accomplish. The government of the temper, the
regulation of the affections, and the mortificalion
of the principle of sin and corruption, have been,
in a great measure lost sight of, amidst the fiery
zeal which has sometimes been displayed in the
propagation of dogmas and opinions, which do
liot enter into the essence of our iioly religion.
While we have endeavored to display our bravery
as champions in tl-.e cause of orthodoxy, we hava
too frequently given vent to unhallowi.-d passions,
and aspired after worldly emolument and applau.se,
instead of " the honor which cometh from God
alone."

Of all the practical requisitions of Christianity,
there is none which seems to be so much over-
looked as the duty of contributing, with liberality,
for t!ie extension of the Gospel, the diffusion of
knowledge, and the general improvement of man-
kind. This has been owing to the prevalence of
that most vile and unchiisiian propensity, desig-
nated in Scripture by " Covetousness, which ia
Idolatry" — a propensity which has affected ail
ranks of men, from the highest to the lowest, and
which is characteristic of multitudes who muke a
glaring profession of evangelical religion. Were
this single affection either undermined or extir-
pated, a deluge of miseries would soon be swept
away from our sutlering world — philanthropy
would distribute its thousand blessings among all
ranks; universal education would be established
in every land; Zion would be built up even in
troublous times; "God would appear in his glory"
to men; the benighted heathen would, ere long,
be enlightened with the "day-spring from on
high," and the way prepared for the ushering in
of that glorious period when " the knowledge of
Jehovah shall cover the earth, and the kingdoms
of this world become the kingdoms of our Lord,
and of his Messiah."

In the illustration of this subject the following
plan may be adopted:

• I. I shall describe the disposition or propensity
designated by " Covetousness," as it has operated,
and still operates, in Christian and civil society.

II. Demonstrate its absurdity and irrational-
ity.

III. Show its inconsistency with Christian
principle, and the general tenor of the Word of
God.

IV. Illustrate some of the Evils which flow
from the indulgence of Covetousness.

V. Investigate the Principles by which Chris-
tians should be directed in the application of their
wealth.

VI. Illustrate some of the Benefits which would
result to Christians and general society, were Co-
vetousness undermined, and an opposite principle
universally cultivated.

VII. State some of the means to be used, in
order to counteract the influence of Covetousness,
and to promote a spirit of Scriptural liberality
among Christians.

VIII. Offer a few solemn considerations to dif-
ferent classes of individuals in relation to this
subject

CHAPTER I.

ON THE DISPOSITION, OR PROPENSITY DESIGNATED BY COVETOUSNESS, AND
THE VARIOUS MODES IN WHICH IT HAS OPERATED IN THE WORLD, AND
IN CHRISTIAN SOCIETY.

CovETOusNEss coiisists in an inordinate desire
of any worldly enjoyment, particularly riches, for
the purpose of gratifying ambition, avarice, or
sensual desires. It is tlie opposite of generosity,
or that liberality and contentment which the word
of God inculcates.

The Creator has furnished the material world
with an immense variety of objects, and has en-
dowed us with sensitive organs, through the me-
dium of which these objects may be perceived
and enjoyed. He has also implanted in us desires
and affections whicli, in subordination to higher
aims, were iutended to be directed to the objects
of the visible world, and the enjoyment of the
good things of this life.' We may lawfully desire
water to quench our thirst, food to nourish our
bodies, clothes to cover us, and comfortable shel-
ter and accommodation — if such desires be regu-
lated by scripture and reason, and confined with-
in their proper bounds. We may even desire the
possessions of others when they are willing to
relinquish them, and when we are able and will-
ing to offer them a fair and equitable compensa-
tion. We may lawfully labor by the exertion
either of our bodily or mental powers, to acquire
a more comfortable house or garden than we now
possess, and to enjoy a little more of the external
bounties of Providence, when proper motives re-
gulate our exertions and our aims. For, the
Creator has exhibited, in his creation around us,
an immense variety of beauties and sublimities to
gratify the eye and the imagination, and has fur-
nished the world in which we live with a multi-
plicity of delicious fruits, flowers, herbs and roots,
to gratify every taste, as well as to afford nourish-
ment to our animal system. It is, therefore, evi-
dent, that he intends his creatures should partici-
pate the sweets of sensitive enjoyment. "For
svery creation of Cod is good, and nothing to be
refused, if it be received with thanksgiving."
"I know," says Solomon, "that it is good for a
man to rejoice and to do good in his life, and also
that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy
the good of all his labor, for it is the gift of God."
Everything in the system of nature is so arrang-
ed as to produce pleasure and sensitive enjoyment,
when used with moderation, and according to the
design intended by the Creator. To condemn the
moderate use of sensitive enjoyments, or to incul-
cate the austerities of an ascetic life, is, therefore,
repugnant to the dictates both of reason and reve-
lation, and tends to frustrate the beneficent de-
signs of Him whose goodness and " tender mer-
cies are over all his works."

It is not, therefore, in the simple desire of
worldly good that covetnusriess consists, but in an
inordinate desire of sensitive objects and enjoy-
ments— a desire which is inconsistent with the
rational nature of man, and with our duty to our
Creator and our fellow-men. Covetonsness as-
sumes a variety of forms, and manifests itself in

many different modes. 1. It appears in its most
degrading form in hoarding money, and acquiring
Jtouses and lands, for the mere purpose of accumu-
lation, when there is no intention of enjoying
such wealth, or bringing it forth for the good of
society. This is the characteristic of the man
who is denomiuateil a ndser — a word which ori-
ginally signifies wretched, or miserable, as all such
persons necessarily are. 2. It appears under the
pretense of making provision for children — a pre-
tense whicli is generally nothing more than a
cloak to cover the principle of avarice which is
fixed in the mind. 3. It operates most frequent-
ly for the purpose of gratifying sensual propen-
sities— displaying elegance in dress and furniture,
and giving scope to a spirit of pride and ambition.
In these, and many other ways, this vile affection
manifests itself, robbing man of the true glory of
his nature, degrading him in some respects below
the level of the brutes, undermining every prin-
ciple of religion, counteracting human happiness,
preventing the renovation of the world, and re-
ducing the soul to the level of a groveling idolater
who " worships and serves the creature more than
the Creator, who is blessed forever."

This inordinate desire of wealth has been pro-
ductive of more mischief and misery in the world
than almost any other unhallowed affection of the
human heart. It has been the malignant source
of almost all the evils which have been introduced
into the social state, and of all the sorrows and
sufferings to which the inhabitants of the earth in
ever}' age have been subjected. In order that we
may clearly perceive tlie malignity of this affec-
tion, it may not be improper to take a cursory view
of the effects it has produced, and of the manner
in which it has operated, both in the world at
large and in Christian society.

SECTION I.

O.N Tire OPERATIONS AND EFFECTS OF COVETOUSNESS
AS DISPLAYED IN THE WORLD AT LARGE.

This vile affection may be considered as the
first display which was made in our world of sin
or rebellion against God. Our first parents com-
menced their apostasy from their Maker by covet
ing the fruit of "the tree of knowledge," which
he had expressly interdicted under the highest
penalty. Though they were surrounded by the
munificence of the Deity, though they were per-
mitted to eat of every other tree in the garden of
Eden, and possessed everything that was pleasaxt
to the eye and delicious to the taste — yet they
dared to put forth their hands to the forbiddei
fruit, from the covetous propensity of en'oyin^
what was not their own, and the ambitious desint
of being "like the gods, and knowing good and

(11)

12

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

evil." This covetous and ambitious act " brought
death into the world and all our woe," and was
tlie prelude and forerunnor of all those devasta-
tions and miseries which avarice and ambition
have entailed on the inhabitants of the world.
We liave reason to believe, that tliis woeful
propensity, in conjunction witli ambition, with
whicli it is inseparably connected, in one shape or
another, was the principal cause of tiie wicked-
ness which abounded in the world before the flood,
and of the overwhelming deluge which swept away
its inhabitants. For we are told, that "tlie earth
was tilled with violence" — plainly intimating,
that wars and devastations were everywhere car-
ried on — that a system of rapine and plunder uni-
versally prevailed — that the strong and powerful
forcibly seized the possessions of the weak — that
the poor and needy were robbed and oppressed —
that cities were demolished, fields and vinej'ards
laid waste, and the plowshare of destruction driven
through every land.

The whole history of the world, since that
period, may be considered as little else than a
revolting detail of the operations of covetousness
and ambition, and of the direful effects they have
produced on the destinies of mankind. The op-
pressions which Babylon and Assyria exercised
over the Jews and neighboring nations, the plun-
dering of the sacred vessels which belonged to the
temple of Jehovah; the mad expedition of Xerxes
against tlie Grecians, with his numerous Jieets
and armies, and the slaughters and devastations
they produced; the boundless ambition of Alexan-
der, his cruelties and injustice, his burning of
cities, plundering of palaces and temples, and the
destruction of thousands and millions by his con-
quering armies, while engaged in the mad pursuit
of universal empire; the atrocities and murders
committed by his successors, and the commotions
and revolutions which followed in their train; the
plunder, butchery and devastation of the Roman
legions, and the terror tliey inspired throughout
surrounding nations; tlie dreadful contests be-
tween Rome and Cartilage, known by the name
of the Punic Wars, which lasted for more than
forty-five years, and in which Tnillions of human
beings were sacrificed to the demon of war; the
elaughter and ravages produced by the jealousy
and ambition of Cassar aud Pompey; the terrible
desolations and carnage produced throughout Asia
and Africa by Mahomet and his ferocious dis-
ciples, while they were laying waste cities with-
out number, and cutting in pieces all the enemies
of Islamism; the commotions, assassinations, mur-
ders, and contests which happened during the
reign of the Roman Emperors; the pillage of
Rome by the barbarous Alaric, when the streets
and houses were deluged with blood, the buildings
enveloped iu flames, the monuments of ancient
grandeur overturned, and the soldiery raged and
ravaged with all the ferocity of infernal demons;
the irruption of the Goths and Vandals, who rush-
ed like a torrent into the Roman Empire, who
respected neither rank, age nor sex, who covered
the earth with carnage, and whose route was uni-
formly marked with desolation and with blood;
the incursions of the Scythians, who rushed with
irresistible impulse on western Europe, exter-
minating the inhabitants wherever they came,
and threatening almost total destruction to the
human race; the ravages of Jenghis Khan, the
most bloody conqueror that ever existed, who, in
1 wenty-two years, destroyed fifteen millions of
Uuman beings, and transformed their countries
into hideous deserts; the mad expeditions of the
Crusaders, who went forth b; millions along the

eastern parts of Europe, breathing out threaten-
ings and slaughter against the inhabitants of Asia^
the ferocious and fiendlike wars of the Turk?
against Qiristian nations — these, aud thousands
of similar scenes of atrocity and plunder which
have entailed misery and destruction on hundreds
of millions of the human race, are to be attributed
to the insatiable lust of covetousness, when pan-
dering to the purposes of ambition and worldly
aggrandizement.

In the wars of modern times, and in the nume-
rous expeditions which have been undertaken for
the discovery and colonization of new countries,
the same avaricious principles have been almost
uniformly displayed. No sooner had Columbus
discovered a portion of the Western World, than
the cursed love of gold began to absorb the whole
attention of his followers. No desire to confer
benefits on the natives, who almost adored them,
seems ever to have entered their breasts; but, on
the other hand, they displayed every species of
perfidy, inhumanity, and injustice; and inflicted
every kind of cruelty on the Indians, if they
could but extort from them the golden treasures
thoy possessed. As if the acquisition of gold had
been the great end of human existence, their
whole faculties and exertions were directed to this
object. They went from one part of the island
on which they had landed to another; they sailed
eastward and westward, and from one island to
another; and wherever they went, their sole
inquiry was for the mountains and vales where
gold was to be obtained. The island Hispaniola
was the earliest settlement of tlie Spaniards in tjio
New World, on account of the quantity of gold it
supplied. They forced its inhabitants, as so many
slaves, to dig this object of their avarice out of
the bowels of the earth, and when the source of
it was dried up, they exterminated the natives by
a series of barbarities moie shocking than ever be-
fore disgraced the history of man. Of two mil-
lions of inhabitants which the island contained
when discovered by Columbus in 1492, scarcely
150 were alive in 1545, only about fifty years
afterward. The conquest of Mexico by Cortez
and his followers, impelled by an insatiable lust
for gold, was accompanied with horrors, atrocities
and slaughters more dreadful and revolting than
almost any other scenes recorded in the annals of
our race. To prepare the way for enjoying the
plunder they had in view, the unoffending In-
dians were butchered by thousands, and their
towns laid in ruins. Throughout the whole of
their progres", their route was marked with per-
fidy, injustice, carnage, and deeds of atrocious
cruelty. On one occasion, 60 Caciques or leaders
of the Mexican empire, and 400 nobles, were
burned alive with the utmost coolness and deli-
beration, and, to complete the horrors of the scene,
the children and relations of the wretclied victims
were assembled and compelled to be spectators of
their dying agonies. On another occasion, when
the inhabitants of the city of Mexico were celebrat-
ing a festival, and all the people, particularly th©
nobles, were dressed in their richest decorations,
— under the pretense of an intended conspiracy,
the Spaniards, in order to glut their avarice, fell
upon the unthinking Mexicans, slaughtered 2000
of the nobles, and stripped their dead bodies of
all their valuable ornaments. Every right was
violated which is generally held sacred even by
hostile nations. On every trivial occasion the
Indians were massacred in great numbers, their
lands apportioned among the Spaniards, the inha*
bitants reduced to slaves, and forced to work
without payment at all their public works, wliil*

OPERATION AND EFFECTS OF COVETOUSNESS.

13

the officers distributed into difTercnt provinces,
ftiitlifully iiiiituted tlieir avaricious commander in
all his excesses and barbarities. In tlie siege of
Mexico alone, no less tliaii a hundred thousand
of the natives fell by the sword, beside those who
perished by famine and other causes connected
with warfare. And all these revolting scenes
were produced in violation of every moral prin-
ciple, merely to gratify the unbounded desires of
Bord d minds for the unsatisfying treasures of gold
and silver. And while tliey had the effrontery
and impiety to elevate the standard of the Cross,
and to implore the God of armies to assist them
in their conquests, no means were ever used to
meliorate either the physical or moral condition
of those whom tlioy had so cruelly plundered.
But God, whose laws they had so wantonly vio-
lated, caused them to suffer a just retribution,
as a punishment for their enormities and their
avaricious desires. For numbers of them were
butchered by the enraged Mexicans ia their re-
treat from the capital, and those who were taken
alive were carried off in triumph to the temples
and sacrificed with all the cruelties which re-
venge could invent, to the god of war, — wliile
their companions, at a distance, heard their dis-
mal screams and piteous lamentations. Many of
them so overloaded themselves with bars of gold
as retarded their flight, so that they fled igno-
miuiously, the victims of their abominable ava-
rice, and a great part of the gold and treasures
they expected from their conquests, was com-
manded by their enemies to be thrown into the
lake. Such are the effects of tlie operation of
that detestable passion which has so long de-
graded the character of man, and which tramples
under foot every principle of virtue, and every
dictate of justice and humanity.

The same atrocities were committed, and the
same execrable propensities displayed in the expe-
dition of Pizarro and his followers for the con-
quest of Peru. In order to glut their avarice for
plundering the golden treasures of this country,
the basest treacherj', and the most cold-blooded
cruelties, w^ere exercised. Under profession of
amity, they seized upon the Inca or emperor of
the country, who had received them in a friendly
manner, and had commanded his attendants to
offer the strangers no injury; and butchered, with
deliberate and unrelenting fury, above 4000 of
his attendants, who never offered the least resis-
tance; after which they passed the night in the
most extravagant exultation, at the greatness of
the plunder they had acquired from the bodies of
the slain. The Inca, in order to regain his liberty,
promised them as many vessels of gold as would
fill an apartment twenty-two feet long, sixteen
v/ide, and eight high: and after having dispatched
messengers throughout his kingdom to collect the
promised treasures, he had fulfilled his engage-
ment— they not long after, under the most ridi-
culous pretenses, condemned him to be burned
alive. The booty they obtained by such atrocious
deeds, amounted to more than two millions of
pounds sterling. The day appointed for the par-
tition of this enormous sum was the festival of
- St. James, the patron saint of Spain; and although
assembled to divide the spoils of an innocent peo-
ple, procured by deceit, extortion, and cruelty,
they had the impiety and audacity to commence
the transaction with a solemn invocation of the
name of God, as if they had expected the bene-
diction of Heaven in distributing those wages of
iniquity. Such was the commencement, and
such the progress of the expedition by which the
empire of Peru was subjugated to the dominion

of Spaii.. A curse has rested upon the wealth
which was thus procured; and the nation that
sanctioned such injustice and atrocities, has, in
the just providence of God, suffered the punish-
ment due to its cruelties and avarice. Instead of
being enriched by such treasures, it has been im-
poverished. That very wealth which its inhabi-
tants so ardently desired, and for the acquisition
of which they violated every principle of religion
and morality, laid the foundation of Spanish in-
dolence, checked the increase of population,
prevented the exertions of industry in the improve-
ment of agriculture, manufactures, and com-
merce, which are the only true sources of wealth,
and has reduced their country from one of the
most powerful and wealthy of European king-
doms, to a state of comparative poverty. The
wars which have, of late years, been carried on
ia that country, and in its former colonies, and
the commotions and massacres which are at this
moment taking place, may be considered as part of
the punishment for national offenses, inflicted by
Him who " visits the iniquities of the fathers upon
the children to the third and fourth generation" —
thus by a kind of retributive justice, avenging
the many innocent nations which were ravaged
by their forefathers on the continent of America.
Another mode in which Covetousness has dis-
played its malignity is, the traffic in slaves. Among
the circumstances connected with this trade, are
found whatever is dark in treachery, odious in
cruelty, or horrible in war, — whatever afflicts the
body or degrades and tortures the soul. It is a
traffic which has suffocated thousands of human
beings in the cells of a floating dungeon, plunged
ten thousands into a watery grave, and doomed
the survivors to long years of captivity and sor-
row, under the lash of relentless task-masters —
a traffic which has produced wars and massacres
of every description, torn asunder the most endear-
ing ties, trampled under foot every dictate of jus-
tice and humanity, transformed civilized men into
infernal fiends, an I embodied in it whatever has
been feared or imagined in the cup of human woe.
Yet this infernal traffic has been encouraged and
carried on by men who make high pretensions of
their improvement in science and civilization; by
States that, with the most glaring inconsistency,
boast of the liberties they have acquired above all
other nations; by Roman Pontiffs who pretend to
be Christ's vicegerents on earth; by thousands
who profess the greatest zeal for the interests of
Religion, and who would consider themselves as
scandalized and insulted, were we to refuse them
the name of Christians — and all for the purpose
of glutting their insatiable lust of avarice, at the
expense of the blood and sufferings of their fellow
men. Early in the 15th century, the Portuguese,
under the authority of the Pope, explored the
African coast, planted colonies, and reduced the
Africans to slavery. The decrees of five succes-
sive Roman Pontiffs "granted, conveyed, and
confirmed to the most faithful king [of Portugal],
a right to appropriate the kingdoms, goods, and
possessions of all infidels, wherever to be found,
to reduce these persons to perpetual slavery, or rfe-
stray them from the earth," for the declared pur-
pose "of bringing the Lord's sheep into one
Dominican fold under one Universal Pastor."
By whom, then, was this atrocious commerce
opened, and by whom has it been so long and
ardently pursued? By the subjects of their
Most Faithful, most Catholic, and most Christian
Majesties, Defenders of the Faith; by British sub-
jects, who have only lately been forced to abandon
it, and by the citizens of the Most Republican

u

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

States, with the sanction o. nis holiness the Pope.
It has been calculated that, iu this accursed traf-
fic, eight millions of slaves have been shipped in
Africa for the West India Islands and the United
States, ten millions for South America, and two
millions have been taken and held in slavery in
Africa; in all, about twenty millions of negroes
who have been consigned either to bondage or to
death.* Reckoning the value of eacii slave at
£40 sterling, this horrid trade has accumulated
for its unprincipled abettors, the enormous sum of
£800,000,000, a sum which would be nearly suf-
ficient for effecting the physical and moral reno-
vation of our world; but the greater part of
which, we have too much reason to believe, has
been wasted in luxury and debauchery.

I have stated these more atrocious acts of ava-
rice, for the purpose of showing to what a pitch
of wickedness and barbarity the principle of
covetousness will lead its votaries when no human
laws or prudential considerations interfere to ob-
struct its progress. Men are apt to imagine, that
the occasional indulgence in covetousness, in
respeci to little things, can produce no great
harm, when actions directly criminal are not
resorted to for its gratification, — that to take a
quarter of an ounce from a pound of sugar, an
inch from a yard of print, a "remnant" from a
suit of clothes, — to ask more than the fair value
for an article of merchandise, to withhold a few
pence or shillings from a philanthropic institu-
tion, or to desire the wealth of others which we
cannot by fair means obtain, must be faults of
trivial consideration, and can produce little injury
to general society. But such persons ought to
consider, that the very same principle which ope-
rates in such cases, if left to its own native ener-
gies, and to operate without control from the force
of human laws, would lead to all the atrocities
and scenes of horror to which we have now allu-
ded, and would, ere long, transform the world into
a field of plunder, an immense rharnel house, and
a habitation of demons. Wero its influence uni-
versal, it would destroy the happiness of rational
beings, subvert the moral order of intelligent
agents, both in heaven and on earth, and even sap
the foundations of the throne of the Eternal.
Hence, it is described in Scripture as "the root
OF ALL EVIL," and designated by the term idola-
try; a crime which, above all others, has a ten-
dency to degrade the character of man, and to
subvert the relations in which he stands to his
fellow creatures, and to his Creator — which in-
cludes in it a comprehensive summary of wicked-
ness, pride, falsehood, malignity, rebellion, hatred
of moral excellence, and the basest ingratitude
toward him " in whom we live, and move, and
have our being."

Beside the more barbarous acts of plunder to
which I have adverted, there are innumerable
other acts in the conduct of nations and societies,
flowing from the same principle, which are every
day committed without a blush at their enormity
and injustice. Almost the whole of our coloniza-
tion system has been commenced and carried on
from a principle of avarice; when the rights of
independent tribes have been invaded, and their
territories wrested from them without an adequate
compensation. Whether we go to America or
Africa, the West Indies or Hindostan, or wherever
colonies hwe been established by European na-
tions, we shall find numerous exemplifications of
the truth of this position. Instead of rendering
our geographical discoveries subservient to the

• See Garley's " Life of Aihmun," page 101. Printed at
Washiugton, ia 1S05.

happiness and improvement of unenlightened
tribes; we have sent out expeditions to deprive
them of the property which God and nature had
given them, to massacre and to hunt them as wild
beasts from the face of the earth, for the purpose
of acquiring plunder, and gratifying our avari-
cious desires. And when we have thus laid the
foundation of our colonies in avarice and injustice,
we have next oppressed their inhabitants by arbi-
trary enactments and exorbitant taxes, which
have frequently led to protracted and expensive
wars, in which our treasures, acquired by injus-
tice and oppression, have been wasted, our previ-
ous riches ami prosperity diminished, and our
finances sometimes brought to the verge of ruiiw
It is thus that the Governor of the world fre-
quently punishes the crime of avarice, by forcing
it again to disgorge those riches which were un-
justly acquired, and to make nations perceive, if
they have any moral perceptions, their sin in their
punisiiment. Hence when the British roused the
indignation of their American Colonists, by their
despotic enactments and oppressive taxations, a
desolating and unnatural war ensued, which cost
Britain not only many thousands of valuable
lives (about two hundred thousand in all), but no
less than £139,000,000; a sum far greater than
had ever been acquired from the possession of
these colonies, and which might have sufficed to
transform Britain into a terrestrial paradise, and
to establish churches and seminaries to the utmost
extent, for the diffusion of knowledge and religion
among all classes of the inhabitants.

There would be no end to the illustrations of
the operation of covetousness, as displayed on the
general theater of the world, were we to enter
into particulars. The barbarous practices con-
nected with piracy, or the plundering of vessels
at sea, and the deeds of violence and atrocity
which pirates have committed; the robberies and
depredations which have been perpetrated by land,
and the horrid murders which have been commit-
ted by lawless banditti in pursuit of spoil; the
cruelties exercised by Turkish Bashaws and
Moorish Emperors, in squeezing from their sub-
jects exorbitant taxes; the plundering of caravans
iu the desert by wandering Arabs; the savage
practices of a set of men denominated wrecltersi
the perfidy and perjuries of spies and informers,
in convicting the innocent of crimes in the hope
of reward; the trepanning of soldiers and the
impressment of seamen; the secret murders com-
mitted on friends and relatives in hopes of obtain-
ing an inheritance; the treachery of executors
and lawyers in betraying their trusts, in order to
fill their coffers; the frauds of public officers in
conducting the affairs of government, the embez-
zling of public money by close corporations for
the purpose of selfishness and sensuality; the
oppressions which, in almost every nation, have
been exercised by unprincipled and avaricious
men, on the poor and destitute, the widow and the
orphan; these, and hundreds of similar modes ia
which avarice is displayed, would require volumes
to describe and record the revolting details.

SECTION II.

On the effects of covetousness, and the man-
ner IN WHICH IT has DISI'LAYED TrSELF AMONG
THOSE WHO ACKNOWLEDGE THE AUTHORITY OK
CHRISTIANITY, AND PROFESS TO SUBMIT TO ITS (

DICTATES.

Whf.n the leading facts and doctrines of Chris
tianity were first publicly proclaimed oi. tho day

ON THE EFFECTS OF COVETOUSNESS.

15

of Pentecost, those who were converted to the
fallh imb.bed its lieaveuly spirit, and acted accor-
ding to its holy requisitions. This was particu-
larly manifested in tiieir noble indifference to
earthly possessions, and their anxious desire to
consecrate the wealth which God had given them
to purposes of Cliristiau beneficence. So great
was their admiration of tiie love of God, and the
riches of his grace, and so elevated their hopes of
heavenly felicity, that they looked down with
B becoming contempt on worldly treasures, e.\cept
in so far as they were subsen'ient to the purposes
of benevolence, and to the promoting of the
interests of the Redeemer's kingdom. P'or, we
arc told, that " all tiiat believed," being inspired
with mutual love and affection for each other, —
"had all things common." Nay, to such an
extent did this generous principle prevail, that
they who had estates or other valuable effects,
" sold their possessions and goods, and parted
them to all men as every one liad need." This
Christian liberality and heroic indifference to the
world continued to distinguish the followers of
Jesus, in a greater or less degree, during the first
two centuries of the Christian era. For the sake
of Him who had " redeemed them with his
blood," and brought them "from darkness to
marvelous light," they cheerfully parted with
houses and lands, and brethren and sisters, and
subjected themselves to the severest persecutions,
that they might obtain "a better resurrection,"
and an " incorruptible inheritance." They were
admonished beforehand that they were to be "be-
trayed by friends and brethren and kinsfolk,
accused before rulers and kings, and hated of all
men for his name's sake." And these premoni-
tions were fully realized in the experience of all
who professed an adherence to " the testimony
of Jesus." At the instigation of the lieathen
priests and emperors, every species of contumely
and cruelty was inflicted which the wicked inge-
nuity of our fallen nature could invent. Some
were slain by the sword, some were whipped and
scourged, after the cruel manner of the Romans,
and others were roasted in the flames. Some
were stabbed with forks of iron, some nailed to a
cro>s, some torn by wild beasts, and others drown-
ed in the sea, or stoned to death; some starved
with hunger or killed with cold; some had their
hands and tongues dissevered from their bodies,
and others were wrapped in combustible gar-
ments, and fire set to them when evening came
on, that they might serve like torches to dispel the
darkness of the night. Hierome, in his epistle to
Cromatius, observes, — " There is no day in the
whole year to which the number of five thousand
martyrs cannot be ascribed, except only the first
day of January." So that every year no less
than one million eight hundred and twenty thousand
Christians must have perished from the earth by
the infliction of such demoniacal punishments, —
and all to glut the avarice and revenge of Pagan
priests and rulers. Yet the number of those men
•' of whom the world was not worthy," still con-
tmued to increase throughout every province of
the Roman empire. They magnanimously looked
down on all the wealth and splendor of this
passing scene as unwortliy to be compared with
the glory wiiich was about to be revealed. " They
counted all things as dung in comparis(in of tlie
excellent knowledge of Chrir-t, for whom thi^y
had suffered the loss of all things; they knew in
whom they had believed," and " chose rather to
suffn- alflietion with tlie people of God than to
enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season, esteeming
the reproach of Christ gi'cater riches than the

treasures of earth, and having respect to the re-
compense of reward." How many members of
the Christian church should we have in modern
times, were they all exposed to such j)ersecntions
and tribulations! Were all professing Christians
animated with such heavenly principles and affec-
tions as distinguished the primitive saints and
martyrs, there would be little need to write an
Essay on the evils of Covetousness, or to enforce
the duty of a noble and disinterested liberality on
the members of the visible church. But, alas!
the gold hiis become dim, and the most fine gold
has changed! The great majority of tlhose called
Christians, in our time, can scarcely be distin-
guished, in their dispositions and conduct, from
civilized Pagans, and the professed men of the
world, "whose god is their belly," who glory in
their wealth, and " who mind earthly tilings."

When the Christian church began to enjoy tho
favor of worldly men, it was not long before
many of its members began to imbibe a worldly
spirit. As the wealth and honors conferred on
the church increased, the heavenly zeal of its vo-
taries diminished, and a spirit of CourfoMSHfss, and
a desire for worldly honors and distinctions, be-
gan to prevail throughout all the official depart-
ments connected with Cliristian worship and
instruction. Even so early as the third century,
this melancholy change began to appear, particu-
larly in the contests of the Bishops for power and
pre-eminence, and for worldly splendor and mag-
nificence. Though a considerable number of
them continued to exhibit to the world illustrious
examples of primitive piety and virtue, yet "many
of tliemwere sunk in luxury and voluptuousness,
puffed up with vanity, arrogance, and ambition,
possessed with a spirit of contention and discord,
and addicted to many other vices, that cast an
undeserved reproach upon the holy religion of
which they were the unworthy ministers."*
The Bishops assumed, in many places, a princely
authority, particularly those who had the greatest
number of churches under their inspection, and
Vvho presided over the most opulent assinnblies.
" They appropriated to their evangelical function,
the splendid ensigns of temporal majesty. A
tiirone, surrounded with mini.^ters, exalted above
his equals the servant of the nit-ek and humble
Jesus, and sumptuous garments dazzled the eyes
and the minds of the multitude into an igno-
rant veneration for their arrogated authority.
The example of the bishops was andjitiously imi-
tated by the presbyters, who, neglecting the sacred
duties of tiieir station, aljancloned themselves to
the indolence and delicacy of an effeminate and
luxurious life. The deacons, beholding the pres-
byters thus-deserting their functions, boldly usurp-
ed their rights and privileges, and began to despise
tiiosc lower functions and employments which
they had hitherto exercised with so much humili-
ty and zeal, and the effects of a corrupt ambition
were spread through every rank of the sacred
order." t

Wherever luxury, ambition, and a desire for
worldly splenaor, gain ascendency over tlio mind,
Avarice follows in the train as an inseparable con-
comitant. In the progress of the corruptions
which were afterward introduced into the church,
this degrading passion was displayed, with shame-
loss effrontery, in all its impious and demoralizing
ellocts. The rapaciousness of the bishops and
popes, and of almost every order of ecclesiastics,

*Mosheliii'5 Ectles. Hist., Centnry third,
t Mosheim.

16

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESb.

became excessive, and even proverbial; and they
did not hesitate to employ the most insidious and
Bacrilegious means to gratify their covetous pro-
pensiti'S. The possessions of the church wore
sold to tlie highest bidders, or turned into a patri-
mony for till' bustards of tiie incumbents. Frauds
and abuses of every descri|)tion were practiced;
legends were forged, lying wonders invented, and
all the resources of fable and forgery exhausted,
to celebrate exploits which had never been per-
formed. Skulls and jaw-bones, legs and arms,
were collected under pretense of being the relics
of the primitive martyrs, and deposited in churches
in order to proijure the rich presents of wealthy
supplicants, who flocked to them for deliverance
under aftlictioii and dangers. Marriages, wills,
contracts, the interests of families and of courts,
the circumstances connected yvith the living and
the deal, were all converted into instruments and
occasions for increasing the power and riches of
the church. The ignorance and superstition
which the corruptions of Christianity had intro-
duced, were devtrously improved by the ecclesi-
astical rulers to fill their coffers, and to drain the
purses of the d. luded multitude. All the various
ranks and ordors of the clergy had each their
peculiar method of fleecing the people, and in-
creasing their revenues. " The bishops, when
they wanted money for their private pleasures,
granted to their flock the power of pnrchasing
the remission of the penalties imposed upon trans-
gressors, by a sum of money which was to be ap-
plied to certain religious purposes, or, in other
words, they published Indulgences, which became
an inexhaustible source of opulence to the Episco-
pal orders, and enabled tliem to form and execute
the most (iifRcult schemes for the eidargement of
their authorit}', and to erect a multitude of sacred
edifices which ai;gmented the external pomp and
splendor of the church. The abbots and monks,
equally covetous and ambitious, had recourse to
other methods of enriching their convents. They
carried about the country the curcasses and relics
of the saints, in solemn procession, and permitted
the multitude to behold, touch, and embrace those
sacred and lucrative remains, at certain fixed
prices. By this rs.ree-show, the monastic orders
often gained as much as the bishops did by their
indulgences."* At length the Roman Pontiffs
assumed the chiel power over this profitable
traffic, and "when the wants of the church or
the demon of avarice prompted them to look out
for new subsidies, published not only a universal,
but a plenary remission of all the temporal pains
and penalties which the church had annexed to
certain transgressions." " They even audaciously
usurped the authority which belongs to God alone,
and impiously pretended to abolish even the pun-
ishments which are reserved in a future state for
the workers of iniquity, a step which the bishops,
with all their avarice and presumption, had never
once ventured to take."t

It was by the sale of such indulgences that
Pope Leo X, carried forward the magnificent
structure of St. Peter's church at Rome. He pub-
lished a system of indulgences suited to all ranks
and characters of men, and promised a plenary
remission to all who should contribute their monej'
to the furtherance of this and other ambitious pro-
jects. So that the foundations of this edifice,
which has been so much extolled, were laid, and
its superstructure reared, by means the most
impious and diabolical, by a display of reckless
perfic'y and insatiable avar.ce, and at the expense

• Mosheim, Cent. 12.

tibid.

of undermining the whole fabrit of Christianity,
and usurping the prerogatives of the King of
heaven. To such a pitcii was this daring impiety
carried, that indulgences were farmed out to the
highest bidders, who, to make the best of their
bargains, procured tiie ablest and most elo(]uent
preachers to extol the efficacy, and enhance the
value of sucii wares. A price, on a graduated
scale, was set upon the remission of sins of every
description, not even excepting the most horrid
crimes, such as the murder of the father, Miotiier, or
wife ; so tiiat for ninety livres, or a i&vf ducats,
or even for half a guinea of English money, a
pardon might be procured from the "Apostolic
Chancery," for crimes which all civilized nations
punish with death. The raging thirst of dominion
which consumed the Roman PontifTs, prior to the
Reformation, and their arrogant endeavors to op-
press all that came within the reach of their pow-
er, were accompanied with the most impudent
and insatiable extortion. "All the provinces of
Europe were in a manner drained to enrich these
ghostly tyrants, who were perpetually gaping
after new accessions of wealth, in order to aug-
ment the number of their friends, and the stability
of their dominions ; and every stratagem was used
to rob the subject without shocking the sovereign,
and to levy taxes under the specious mark of
religion."* Such was the shameless rapacity
which then prevailed, that even in that age of
superstition and servility, the eyes of all ranks
began to open and to perceive the vileness and
impiety of the pretensions of the ecclesiastical
orders. Not only private persons, but also the
most powerful princes and sovereign states ex-
claimed loudl}'' against the despotic dominion of the
Pontiffs, the fraud, avarice and injustice that pre-
vailed in their councils, the arrogance and extortion
of their legates, and the unbridled licentiousness
a'nd rapacity of the clergy and monks of all denom-
inations, until at length the Reformation dawned
and brought to light a scene of extortion and
profligacy produced by the lust of covetousness,
which had never before been exhibited with such
effrontery in any country under heaven. In such
a state of things it was no wonder that ignorance
prevailed, that morality was undermined, and the
peculiar doctrines of Christianity thrown into the
shade and entirely overlooked. The public wor-
ship of the Deity was little more than a pompous
round of external ceremonies, more adapted to
dazzle the eye than to enlighten the understand-
ing or to affect the heart. The discourses of the
clergy were little else than fictitious reports of
miracles and prodigies, insipid fables, wretched
quibbles and illiterate jargon, which deceived the
multitude instead of instructing them. The au-
thority of the holy mother church, the obligation
of obedience to her decisions, the virtues and mer-
its of the saints, the dignity and glory of the
blessed virgin, the efficacy of relics, the adorning
of churches, the endowing of monasteries, the
utility of indulgences, and the burnings of purga-
tory, were the principal subjects on which the
clergy descanted, and which employed the pens
of eminent doctors of divinity, because they tend-
ed to fill the coffers of the mother church to gra-
tify her ambition, and to advance her temporal
interests.

It is impossible to ascertain with any degree of
accuracy, the vast sums of money and the im-
mense property which for ages were extorted from
the people of Christendom for such unhallowed
and sacrilegious devices. But it must have

• Mosheim, Cent. 12.

ON THE EFFECTS 01" COVETOUSNESS.

17

amounted to many thousands of millions of
pounds, the greater part of which was employed
for the purposes of devastation and carnage, of
luxury and debauchery, and for tyrannizing over
the people, whom the clergy had reduced to pov-
erty and ignorance, by their shameful licentious-
ness and unboiuiiied rapacity. The one-fifth of
the wealth thus acquired, had it been spent for the
good of the ciiurch, as was impiously pretended,
might have been suthcient to have diffused tlie
knowledge of tlie gospel of Christ over every
region oCthe globe, and to have evangelized every
portion of the Pagan world. But, alas ! it was
wasted in promoting schemes directly opposed to
tlie princij)les and interests of genuine Cliristian-
ity, forming one striking instance, among many,
of the incalculable good which has been prevent-
ed, and the numerous evils which have been
entailed on the world by the indulgence of Covet-
ousness. The Pope's present revenues as u tem-
poral prince, have been calculated to amount to at
least £1,000,000 sterling, per annum, arising
chiefly from the monopoly of corn, the duties on
wine and other provisions. Over and above these,
vast sums are conlinuully flowing into the Papal
treasury from all the Roman Catholic countries,
for dispensations, indulgences, canonizations, an-
nats, the pallia, the investitures of bishops and
archbishops, and other resources. It is computed,
that the monks and regular clergy, who are abso-
lutely at the Pope's devotion, do not amount to
less than 2,000,000 of persons, dispersed through
all the Roman Catholic countries to assert his
Bupremacy over princes, and to promote the
interest of that church. The revenues of these
monks do not fall short of £200,000,000 sterling,
bes^ide the casual profits arising from offerings,
and the people's bounty to the church, who are
tmght that their salvation depends upon this
kind of benevolence. In Spain alone, the number
of ecclesiastics, including the parochial clei-gy,
monks, nuns, syndics, inquisitors, &c., amounts
to lb8,625. The number of archbishops is eight,
and of bishoprics, forty-six. The archbishop of
Toledo alone has a revenue which, according to
the most moderate calculation, amounts to £90,-
000 annually. In Portugal, in 1732, there were
reckoned above .300,000 ecclesiastics out of a pop-
ulation of less than two millions. The patriarch
of Lisbon has an annual revenue of £30,000, and
the Revenue of the Patriarchal Church, above
£114,000 sterling per annum. It is stated by
Mr. Locke, in a Diary of his travels when on the
Continent, inserted in Lord King'.s late biograj>hy
of that illustrious philosopher, that the expense
of the ecclesiastical establishment of France, at
the period in which he rer;ided in that country,
amounted to above twenty-four millions of pounds
sterling. What, then, must have been the im-
mense treasures of wealth collected by the extor-
tions of the Roman pontiffs and bishops prior to
the Reformation, when the whole of the European
nations lay prostrate at their feet, and were sub-
Bervient to their interests, — and when the newly
discovered countries in America were plundered
to augment their revenues, and to gratify their
unbounded rapacity! The wealth thus amassed,
might have been almost sufhcicnt to have cultiva-
ted every region, and to have transformed every
portion of the globe into an earthly paradise.

Even in England, during the reign of Papal
tyranny, the avarice of the clergy seems to have
risen to an enormous hight, Mr. Hume, in his
history of the reign of Henry III, of England,
gives the following description : — " Everything
was become venal in tlv3 Romish tribunals; simony

was openly practiced; no favors, and even no
justice could be obtained without a bribe, the
liighcst bidder was sure to have the preference,
without regard either to the merits of the person
or of the cause ; and beside the usual perversions
of rights and the decision of controversies, the
Pope openly assumed an absolute and uncontrolled
authority of setting aside, by the plenitude of hia
Apostolic power, all particular rules and all privi-
leges of patrons, churches, and convents. Oil
pretense of remedying these abuses, Pope Ilono-
rius, in 122G, comjjiaining of the poverty of his
see- as the source of all grievances, demanded
from every cathedral two of the best prebends,
and from every convent two monks' portions, to
be set apart as a perpetual and settled revenue of
the papal crown; but all n)en being sensible that
tlie revenue would continue forever, his demand
was unanimously rejected. About three years
after, the Pope demanded and obtained the tenth
of all ecclesiastical revenues, which he levied in a
very oppressive manner, requiring payment before
the clergy had drawn their rents or tithes, and
sending about usurers who advanced them the
money at exorbitant interest. In the year 1240,
Otho the legate, having in vain attempted the
clergy in a body, obtained separately, by intrigues
and menaces, large sums from the prelates and
convents, and on his departure, is said to have
carried more money out of the kingdom than he
left in it. This experiment was renewed after
four years, with success, by Martin, the nuncio,
who brought from Rome powers of suspend-
ing and excommunicating all clergymen that re-
fused to comply with his demands. Meanwhile
all the chief benefices of the kingdom were be-
stowed on Italians; non-residence and pluralities
were carried to an' enormous hight; Mansel, the
king's chaplain, is computed to have held at once
seven hundred ecclesiastical livings, and the abuses
became so evident as to be palpal)le to the blind-
ness of superstition itself." "The benefices of
the Italian clergy, in England, were estimated at
the amount of 60,000 marks a year, a sum which
exceeded the annual revenue of the Crown itself."
"Pope Innocent exacted the revenues of all vacant
benefices, the twentieth of all ecclesiastical reve-
nues without exception, the third of such as ex-
ceeded 100 marks a year, and the half of such as
were possessed by non-residents. He claimed the
goods of all intestate clergymen; he pretended a
right to inherit all money gotten by usury; he
levied benevolences upon the people; and when
the king prohibited these exactions, he threatened
to pronounce against him the sentence of excom-
munication." Such was the boundless rapacity
of the Popes, the extravagant exactions they en-
forced, and the power they wielded to gratify their
avaricious desires. There is, perhaps, not a simi-
lar instance to be found in the history of man, in
any nation on the face of the globe, of Covetous-
ness, under the mask of religion, so impudent,
unbounded, and extravagant.

There is a certain class of persons connected
with the Romish Church, who have been more
arrogant and rapacious, than almost any other
class, except the pontiffs, namely, those ijidividu-
als commonly designated by the title of " The
Pope's Nepheics.^' An Italian writer of the I7th
century, who appears to have been a moderate
Catholic, when sketching the characters of the
existing cardinals, and the Pope's Nephews, re-
lates, among other curious and melancholy pieces
of history, the following circumstance: "A friend
of mine had the curiosity to calculate the money
that has been given to the Nephews, and he began

18

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

at Uie year 1500, and, after a great deal of pains,
he found issuing from tlie treasury of the cnurcli
above seventy millions of double ducats,* all deliv-
ered into llie hands of their kiadred : And this is
to be understood of visible moneys; for of private
and invisible sums, tliere may perhaps be twenty
millions more. And those Romans that are within
the town, and have more time to cast np what lias
been extorted from them, if tliey would take the
pains to examine it more strictly, I am satisfied,
would find it much more." The author, like a
good and zealous Catholic, makes tlie following
reflection on this fact: " If these seventy millions
of double ducats had been spent in persecuting
heretics, or in making war upon infidels, wiiere
would any infidels be? where would any heretics
be? Those seventy millions would have been
enough to have overrun all Asia. And (which is of
importance too) the princes would have contrib-
uted as much more, had they seen the Popes more
tenacious against their kindred, and more free to
the soldiers who were figliting for Christ." The
same author states, that " Innocent the tenth, to
satisfy the fancy of a kinswoman, spent ahundred
thousand crowns upon a fountain; yet with great
difficulty could scarce find forty thousand to sup-
ply the Emperor in his wars with the Protestants,"
and " This good Pope would nevertheless leave
to his cousin, to the house of Paniphilia, and
other houses allied to that, above eiglit millions of
crowns, with which sum they flourish in Rome to
this very day." Again, " The Barbarini were in
Rome at the same time, and enjoyed a rent of four
hundred thousand crowns; and yet in a war of so
much importance to the Catholic religion, they
could not find forty thousand. But, oh God! (I
speak it with tears in my eyes) against the most
Catholic princes of Italy, ichole millions were no-
thing; they could turn tlie cross into a sword tn
revenge their particular injuries; but in the relief
of the Emperor, w'lo was vindicating the Chris-
tian faith, they could not find so much as a few
hundreds." On such circumstances he makes the
following remarks : " The infidels laugh, and the
heretics rejoice to see the wealth of the Church so
irreligiously devoured, while tlie poor Christian
wer-ps at their merriment." " The heat and passion
which the Popes show hourly for their Nephews —
to gain Principalities for them, to bestow pension
upon pension upon them, to build palace upon
palace for them, and to fill their coffers with trea-
sure to the brim, is that which cools the resolution
of the zealousest prince, and exasperates the infi-
dels in their wicked designs. A great shame it is,
indeed, that the heretics should have more ground
to accuse the Catholics, than the Catholic has to
impeach the heretic." I shall only extract farther
the following apostrophe of the author, in refe-
rence to this subject: " Oil God! to what purpose
will tliey keep so many jewels a.t Loretta, so much
consecrated plate at Rome, so many abbeys for
their Nephews, so much wealth for the Popes, if
abandoning their commonwealth, and refusing it
that humane supply that is necessary for the ce-
lestial glory, it be constrained to submit to the
Ottoman power which threatens it now with the
greatest effect? If the wealth of the Popes be
devoured, the benefices of the cardinals given to
the priest of MaJiomei, the abbeys of the Nephews
usurped by the Turks, the sacred vessels at Rome

* A ducat is about 4s. 6d. or 5s. in value, when of silver,
and twice as much when of gold. The double ducats of
Venice, Florence, Genoa, &c., weigh five pennyweights,
seventeen grains of gold, and consequently are about the va-
lue of an English gninea, so that the above sum may be con-
sidered as equivalent to £73,500, 000 sterling, which is equiv-
alent to more than 200 millions of pounds at the present time.

profaned by these Infidels, and the seraglio adorn-
ed with the gems of Loretta; God grant my eyes
may never see that spectacle!"*

Thus it appears, even from the testimony of
Roman Catholic writers, that immense suns wera
wrested from the " Christian people," by every
spcciu'S of fraud and extortion; that these sums,
instead of being applied to the maintenance and
defense of the Church, as was pretended, were
wasted in lu.vury and extravagance, in selfish
gratifications, in riot and debauchery, in accumu-
lating wealth on the heads of their relatives and
favorites, — most of whom were infidels and de-
bauchees, in gratifying the pride and avarice of
courtesans, and in the most romantic and ambi-
tious projects. The single structure of St. Peter's
at Rome, cost the enormous sum ol twelce millions
of pounds; and, in our age and country, would
have cost at least thirty-six millions of pounds
sterling. What, then, must have been the im-
mense sums expended on similar objects, intended
merely for worldly ostentation throughout the
whole of Christendom, beside the millions wasted
in the pursuits of tyranny, sensuality and de-
bauchery! The mind of a reflecting Christian is
almost overwhelmed at the thought that such
sacrilegious enormities should have been so long
permitted to continue under the moral government
of God; and that such treasures should have been
consecrated, for so many ages, to the support of
the kingdom of darkness, while the true Church
of Christ was obliged to pine away in poverty,
and hide its head in dens and caves of the earth.
But such are the deplorable and overwhelming
effects of Covetousness, when it gains an ascen-
dency in the minds of individuals, communities,
or nations. To accomplish its objects, every dic-
tate of prudence is discarded, every law, human
and divine, trampled under foot, every ordinance
of religion violated and profaned, every threaten-
ing of future punishment set at naught, the hap-
piness or misery of fellow-creatures entirely dis-
regarded, atrocious murders perpetrated without
remorse, and, in its boundless projects, the whole
earth appears too narrow a field for the scene of
its devastations.

Let us now attend to the operations of Cove-
tousness as it appears in individuals and socie-
ties connected with Protestant and Evangelical
Churches.

The operation of this affection among profes-
sing Christians in general, is apparent, from the
eaf/erncss and restless activity with which the acqui-
sition of wealth is prosecuted. Diligence and acti-
vity in business is the duty of every man; and he
who, in this way, "provides not for his house-
hold, hath denied the faith, and is worse than an
infidel." But the keenness and unwearied exer-
tion so frequently displayed in the accumulation
of wealth, are very different, and ought to be
distinguished from that dutiful attention which
every man ought to exercise in procuring the
means of comfortable subsistence. W hen we look
around us on the world, and even on the conduct
of many Christians, one would be almost apt to
conclude, that the acquisition of riches and honors
is the great object of pursuit, and the ultimate end
of human existence. For men will make sacri-
fices, and expose themselves to inconvenience,
privations, and dangers, to acquire money, which
they would refuse to do, in order to supply the

* f^oe a folio volume of 330 pages, entitled "II Cardinal-
ismo di sancla C'hicsa;"oi the ilistory of the Cardinals of
the Romish Church, from the time of their first creation to
the election of Pope Clement the ninth. Written in Italian,
by the author of J\fepotismo di Roma. London, 1670.

ON THE EFFECTS OF COVETOUSNESS

19

wants of a poor and afflicted family, or to pro-
mote the best interest of an immortal soul, even
when there is no necessity for accumulating
wealth in order to family comfort. This disposi-
tion likewise appears, in being unsatisfied with the
wealth already acquired, even when every sensitive
tomjort consistent with reason and relit/ion is al-
ready enjotjed. I'here is too much aiming at wliat
is called independence — a want of contentment
under the present allotments of Providence, and a
DISTRUST of the care and the promises of Him
who has said, " Thy bread shall be given thee,
and thy water shall be sure," and "1 will never
leave thee nor forsake thee." How few are there
to be found, even among evangelical Christians,
whose language and conduct declare, — "We are
perfectly contented with the arrangements of the
Almigiily, and with that portion of eartiily good
wliicli he has bestowed upon us, and we confi-
dently trust that in the use of all proper )neans,
he will cause ' goodness and mercy to follow us
all the days of our lives;' for all his allotments are
determined by Infinite wisdom and rectitude I"
The same disposition appears in refusing to contri-
bute to philanthropic objects, or in contributing the
smallest and most trifling sums. While large sums
are unnecessarilj^ expended in expensive articles
of dress and furniture, the most j)itiful and nig-
gardly sums are sometimes reluctantly given for
the promotion of objects which have for their ulti-
mate end the alleviation of human misery, the
diffusion of divine knowledge, and the renovation
of the world. But, leaving such general observa-
tions, it may be expedient to descend into particu-
lars, and fix our attention for a little, on some of
the more prominent modes by which covetous
affections are manifested by professing Christians.

Covetousness assumes an immense variety of
different shapes, and manifests itself in such a
multiplicity of modes, that it would require vo-
lumes of description, were we to trace it in all its
turnings and windings, and the diversity of phases
in which it appears in different individuals, and
throughout the ramifications of Christian society;
and therefore I shall confine myself to some of its
more general or leading aspects.

1. It appears in its most abject and degrading
form in the practice of hoarding money and ac-
quiring houses and lands for the mere purpose of
accumulation, when there is no intention of enjoy-
ing such wealth, or bringing it forward for the
good of society. A man who is under the influ-
ence of this vile propensity will sometimes exhi-
bit an apparent decency and respectability of
conduct to general society. He will seldom be
distinguished for gluttony, drunkenness, or de-
bauchery; for such indulgences run counter to
his love of gain and his hoarding propensities.
He will even attend with punctuality on the pub-
lic ordinances of religion, and, for the sake of
character, will give his half-penny or his penny
to the collections for the poor, and will likewise
keep up a routine of family worship in private,
because it costs him nothing. Among his neigh-
bors he may enjoy the reputation of being a
sober, industrious and frugal character, and be set
in contrast with the profligate and the profane.
But all the while his heart is set upon his cove-
tousness. To acquire money by every mean that
will not subject him to tlie criminal laws, and to
place it in security, are the great and ultimate
cbjects of his pursuits; his whole affections are
absorbed in the accumulation of wealth; mam-
mon is the great idol which he adores; and what-
ever semblance of religion he may assume, he
wori^liipB and serves the creature more than the

Creator. He is hard and griping in every bargain
he makes; he grinds the faces of the poor, ana
refuses to relieve the wants of the needy ; his
weights end measures are frequently found defi-
cient, and he cheats without remorse if he can
pass without detection. He envies ^ne man who
is richer or more prosperous than himself, and he
casts his eyes around him on the possessions of
the poor, if perchance, by cunning and deceit, he
may acquire them at half their value. However
fast his wealth may increase, " tliough he heap up
silver as the dust," and " the gold of Ophir as the
stones of the brooks," his wishes are never satis-
fied, and his accumulated wealth always lags
behind his avaricious desires. He thinks he has
a right to be rich, and he murmurs against the
dispensations of Providence, when they frustrate
his schemes and disappoint his expectations. He
is unhappy, because he is unsatisfied with what
he has acquired, and because his plans for accu-
mulating gain are so frequently disconcerted.
Gratitude to God and reliance on his providential
care, tenderness, sympathy, and kindness, domes-
tic affection, and expansive beneficence, are vir-
tues which can never find an entrance to his
heart; for all the avenues to true enjoyment are
interrupted, and closely shut up by the cold hand
of avarice. He denies himself those sensitive
comforts which Providence has put within his
reach, and almost starves himself in the midst of
riches and plenty. He stints the comforts of his
family and dependents, imparting to them the
necessaries of life in shreds and crumbs, and
stooping to the meanest and most debasing expe-
dients, in order to save a shilling or to increase
his store — days and years roll on and carry him
near to the verge of time. As he approaches
nearer the grave, into Mdiich his riches cannot
descend, his desires after them still increase, and
he clings to them with a more eager grasp. His
last sickness seizes him while he is counting his
gold, arranging his bills, collecting his rents, or
prosecuting the poor debtors who have come
under his grasp. He is determined to hold fast
his treasures until the last moment; even the near
prospect of dissolution is insufficient to make his
heart relent over a poor family whom he is hurry-
ing into ruin, and in the very article of death, his
heart is glued to earthly treasures, in spite of
every remonstrance; sometimes grasping the keys
of his coffers with a desperate resolution, until, at
length, liis soul takes its downward flight to that
world for which it is prejjared.

Such is a faint picture of the covetous man
who " lays up treasures for himself, and is not
rich toward God." Sue.h is the character, more
or less deeply marked, of not a few who pass
under the Christian name, and have a place in the
Christian church. When they are dextrous in the
exercise of cunning and deceit, and their conduct
is unmarked with any Jlagrant vice, they may
long continue their course without nmch repro-
bation from general and even Christian society,
especially if they have acquired the habit of dis-
simulation and hypocritical canting. But the
principle which pervades the souls of such persons,
if permitted to operate without control, would
display itself in a still more glaring and disgustful
manner, — of which we have many examples re-
corded in biography and history. In order to ex-
hibit covetousness in its real light, and to impress
the mind with the baseness and revolting nature
of this passion, it may not be improper to select
two or three examples.

Edward Nokes was by trade a tinker, at Horu-
church in Essex. His apartments portrayed symp-

20

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

loms of tho most abject poverty, though, at his
deatli, lie was found to be possessed of between
five and six tLousand pounds. He had a wife and
several ciiildren whom he brought up in. the most
parsimonious manner, often feeding them on
grains and olFals of meat which he purchased at
reduced prices. In order to save the expense of
shaving, lie would encourage the dirt to gather on
his face, to hide in some measure this defect. He
never sutf 'rod his shirt to be washed in water, but
after wearing it until it became intolerably black,
he usi'd to wush it in wine to save the expense of
soap. His coat, which time had transformed into
a jacket, would have puzzled the most accom-
plished chemist to determine its original color, so
covered was it with shreds and patches of different
colors, and those so diversified as to resemble the
trophies of the different nations of Europe. The
interest of his money, together with all he could
heap up, he used to deposit in a bag, which
bag was covered up in a tin pot, and then con-
veyed to a brick kitchen where one of the
bricks was taken up, and a hole made just large
enough to hold the pot; the brick was then care-
fully marked, and a tally kept behind the door, of
the sum deposited One day his wife discovered
the hoard, and took from the pot one of 16 guineas
that were placed therein; but when her husband
came to count his money, on finding it not to
agree with the tally, behind the door, which his
wife did not know of, he taxed her with the theft,
and to the day of his death — even on his death bed,
he never spoke to her, without adding the epithet
" thief" to every expression. A short time before
his death he gave strict charge that his coffin
should not have a nail in it, which was actually
the case, the lid being fastened with hinges made
of cords. His shroud was made of a pound of
wool, the coffin was covered with a sheet instead
of a pall, and was carried by six men, to each of
whom he left half a crown. At his particular
desire, no one who followed him to the grave
wore mourning; even the undertaker was habited
in a blue coat and scarlet waistcoat. He died in
1802, a wretched example of the degrading effects
of avarice.

In November, 1821, a person of the name of
Harrison died in Bennet street, Rathbone Place,
Oxford road, London, where he had lodged 20
years. The furniture in his room consisted of
one old chair, a table, an old stump bedstead, and
a bed of straw; in one corner was a heap of ashes;
and the cupboard, the day after his decease, con-
tained a few potato peelings and a stale roll. His
body presented a picture of extreme misery and
starvation, though he had no family, and had pro-
perty in the funds to the amount of JE1500. A
female friend who was in the habit of visiting
hiin, deposed before the coroner, that he would
let no person but her enter his room, which he
always kept padlocked on the inside, for fear of
being robbed. He lay on his bed in the day time,
and sat up at night without any fire, always burn-
ing a lamp. A few evenings before his death, he
told her, that many persons wanted to finger his
cash, but they should not. He then desired her
to lock bim in, and take the key with her, which
she did; but on going again next day, she found
him lying on his bed, with his clothes on, quite
dead. He was in the practice of carrying large
sums of money, and sewing them up in different
parts of his clothes, for which reason he never

{)ulled them off. Upward of £1 00 was found upon
lim at the time of his death; — on the night pre-
vious to which he sent for one oyster, half a pint
of beer, and a pennyworth of figs, whicli he ate.

Such is the wretchedness and degradation to
which covetousness reduces thos<« miserable be-
ings who live under its influence. Such examples
form a striking commentary on the words of
Solomon: — "There is a sore evil, which I have
seen under the sun; riches kept by the owners
thereof to their hurt, and those riches perish by
evil travail. As he came forth of his mother's
womb, naked shall he return, to go as he came,
and shall take nothing of his labor which he may
carry away in his hand. All his days also he
eateth in darkness, 'or wretchedness,' and hath
much sorrow and wrath with his sickness," under
the curse and displeasure of God.

Numerous examples of this kind might be
brought forward; but I shall adduce only the fol-
lowing well authenticated instance, in relation to
John Elwes, Esq., who was for some time a
member of parliament for Berkshire.

The father of this gentleman was a brewer of
great eminence, but his mother, though she
was left nearly £100,000 by her husband, literal-
ly starved herself to death. About the age of
40, Mr. Elwes succeeded to the property of his
uncle, which amounted to no less than £250,000.
Yet this wretched man, notwithstanding liis im-
mense wealth, denied himself of almost every
comfort, in order to increase his store. He would
walk home in the rain in London, rather than pay
a shilling for a coach; he would sit in wet clothes
sooner than have fire to dry them; he would eat
his provisions in the last stage of putrefaction,
sooner than have a fresh joint from the butchers;
and he wore a wig for a certain time, which his
biographer saw him pick up out of a rut in a lane
where they were riding; which had all the appear-
ance of the cast-off wig of some beggar. When
setting out on a journey, his first care was to put
two or three eggs, boiled hard, into his great-coat
pocket, or any scraps of bread which he found;
then mounting his horse, his next attention was
to get out of London into that road where turn-
pikes were the fewest; then stopping under any
hedge whose grass presented stuff for his horse,
and a little water for himself, he would sit dowa
and refresh himself and his horse together, with-
out ever once stopping on the road at any house.
Two of his residences he chiefly visited were,
Marcham in Suffolk, and another in Berkshire.
Marcham was the place he most frequently visit-
ed as he advanced in life; for this reason, that
the journey into Suffolk cost him only two pence
halfpenny, while that into Berkshire amounted to
four pence. To save fire he would walk about
the remains of an old green-house, or sit with a
servant in the kitchen. During the harvest, he
would go into the fields to glean the corn on the
grounds of his own tenants, and they used to
leave a.' little more than common, to please the
old gentleman, wlio was as eager after it as any
pauper in the parish. In the advance of the sea-
son, his morning employment was to pick up any
stray chips, bones, or other things, to carry to the
fire in his pocket; and he was one day surprised
by a neighboring gentleman, in the act of pulling
down, with some difficulty, a crow's nest for this
purpose. On the gentleman wondering why he
would give himself this trouble, "Oh! sir," he
replied, " it is really a shame that these creature*
should do so. Do but see what a waste they make
— they don't care how extravagant they are."

As he approached to the close of life, his ava-
ricious disposition increased, and his penurious
habits became still more inveterate. He used still
to ride about the country, on one of his mares,
but he rode ner on the soft turf, adjoining the

ON THE EFFECTS OF COVETOUSNESS.

21

road, to save the erpeuse of shoes, as he observed,
"the turf is very pleasant for a horse's foot." —
When iiiiy gentleman called to pay him a visit,
and tlie stable boy was profuse enough to put a
little hay before the horse, old Elwes would slyly
steul buck into tlie stable, and take the hay very
curefully away. He would continue to eat game
in the last state of putrefaction, and meat that
walked about his plate, rather than have new things
kiikd before the old provision was finished — u
species of provi.sions not altogether unsuitable to
so dfj^raded a mind. During this period, he one
' day iliiied upon the remaining part of a moor-hen,
wliicli liad been brought out of the river by a rat;
aiid foou after ate an undigested part of a pike,
wliicli a larger one had swallowed, but had not
finished, and which were taken in this state in a
net — remarking to a friend with a kind of satis-
facliou, "Ay! liliis is killing two birds with one
6tone." It is supposed that if his manors and
Bome grounds in his own hands had not furnished
a subsistence, where he had not anything actually
to buy, he would have suffered himself to have
starved rather than have houglit anything with
money. His dress was in unison with his mode
of living. He would walk about in a tattered
brown-colored hat, and sometimes in a red and
white colored cap, like a prisoner confined for
debt. His shoes he would never suffer to be
cleaned, lest they should be worn out the sooner;
but still, with all this self-denial, he thought he
was too profuse, and would frequently say, "he
must be a little more careful of his property." —
His disquietude on the subject of money was now
continual. When he went to bed, he would put
five or six guineas into a bureau, and then feel
of bis money, after he had retired to rest, and
eometimes in the middle of the night he would
come down to see if it was there. Money was
now his only thought; he rose upon money —
upon money lay down to rest. He would care-
fully wrap up a few guineas, in various papers,
and deposit them in different corners, and then
run from one to the other, to see whether they
were all safe; then forgetting where he had con-
cealed some of them, he would become as serious-
ly afflicted as a man might be who had lost all his
property. During the last winter of his life, he
would frequently be heard at midnight, as if
struggling with some one in his chamber, and
crying out, "I will keep my money; I will: no-
body shall rob me of my property." At length,
on the 26th November, 1789, expired this misera-
bly rich man, while absorbed in his avaricious
propensities, leaving to the world a most striking
and melancholy example of the miserable and de-
basing effects of covetousness. At his death, his
j.roperty amounted to above eight hundred thou-
sand pounds, which were soon dispersed through-
out all parts of England.*

Such examples may be considered as intended
by Divine Providence to show us the wretched
and degraded condition to which avarice reduces
the soul of man, and to serve as beacons to guard
us against the influence of this debasing and soul-
ruining propeufiity. For it is impossible for a
soul thus absorbed in the accumulation of money
to love its Creator or its fellow-creatures, or to
Bubniit to the requisitions of the gospel; and con-
sequently it must be altogether unfit for engaging
i'l the sublime exercises of the heavenly world,
and lor relishing the enjoyments of that " inherit-
ance which is incorruptible and that fadeth not

• Selected from TophamU" Life of Jolia Elwes, Esq."

away." The service of God and mammon are
absolutely irreconcilable; and the man who de-
votes himself to the latter, by his own act renders
himself unfit for being a partaker of the inherit-
ance of the saints in light. Than such a man
there can scarcely be presented a more pitiablo
picture of human depravity and degradation. An
immortal mind groveling in the dust, and having
for its highest aim to heap up treasures which are
never to be enjoyed! and despising those incor-
ruptible riches which shall endui-e forever! what
folly can be compared to the conduct of such an
infatuated mortal?

" Oh, cnrsed lust of Gold! when for thy sake
The fool throws up his interest in both worlds;
First starved in this, then damned in that to come."

Who that ever tasted the pleasures of know-
ledge, or felt the sweets of beneficence, or the
comforts of religion, can but pity the poor wretch
whose soul is chained to earthly treasures, and
tortured on the rack of avarice? And, let it be
remembered, that although the examples related
above are extreme cases, yet the principle of co-
vetousness is the same in every individual in
whose heart it predominates, and it is owing only
to certain restraining circumstances, that it does
not carry them to the same stage of misery and
degradation, as in the instances I have now re-
lated. Let this depraved principle be let loose to
operate without control, and it is impossible to
depict the miseries and degradations of human
character that would follow in its train. The
world would soon become an immense aceldama,
and its inhabitants a society of fiends, fit only to
be the companions of the prince of darkness, and
his infernal legions.

2. Another way in which Covetousness ope-
rates, even among professed Christians, is, in gra-
tifying a desire for ostentatious display, and a spirit
of pride and ambition.

The Creator evidently intended that his crea-
tures should be suitably clothed and accommodated
with comfortable habitations; for he has replen-
ished the earth with everything requisite for those
purposes; and were proper arrangements made in
the social state, and benevolence as frequently dis-
played as the principle of avarice — all the ranks
of mankind would be comfortably clothed, and
conveniently accommodated. A spirit of covet-
ousness is not necessarily connected with a desire
after decent apparel and comfortable dwellings,
nor with those exertions which are requisite to
procure them. But when I behold a professed
Christian decking himself and family with gaudy
attire, replenishing his dwelling with the most ex-
pensive furniture, erecting a huge mansion, supe-
rior to those of all his neighbors, and snflicient to
accommodate three or four families — contenting
himself at the same time with subscribing half a
guinea a year for a religious or philanthropic in-
stitution, and so eagerly engaged in the pursuit of
wealth, that time is scarcely left for mental im-
provement or family religion — I cannot help
drawing the conclusion, that covetousness is a
principle which rules in such a mind for the pur-
pose of fostering a spirit of vanity and pride, and
a desire for worldly ostentation and ])arade. I
have seen in the house of a professor of religion,
whose income did not exceed £1.50 a year, an ar-
ticle of furniture, of no great utility, which cost
twenty or thirty guineas, while a sixth part of
this sum would have been sufficient to have pro-
cured a neat article to have answered every par-
pose for which it was intended. Yet if the indi-
vidual had been urged to subscribe a guinea for a

22

ESSAY" ON COVETOUSNESS.

benevolent institution, it would have been refused
as a most extravagant demand. I have seen a
single flat of a hous« furnished, at an expense of
seven or eight hundred guineas, where there was
scarcely a family to occupy it, and where the pro-
prietor, in ail probability, never gave the tenth
part of this suna to the purposes of religion or
human improvement. Without calling in ques-
tion the riglit of those to whom God hath given
wealth and riches, to adorn their mansions with
splenilid furniture or decorations, it may still be
proper to inquire, if the paltry sum generally given
by many such persons for the purposes of philan-
thropy, be at all proportionable to the expenses
incurred in procuring such costly articles and de-
corations. Is it the part of a Christian man to be
so liberal and even extravagant in his external
trappings, while he can scarcely be induced to put
his hand into his pocket to supply the means of
propagating the gospel through the world, — and
while the one half of his superfluities would be
hailed as a precious boon for this purpose? To
such persons we might apply the words of the
prophet Haggai, " Is it time for you, 0 ye," fash-
ionable Christians, " to dwell in your decorated
houses, and this house of the Lord lie waste? —
Therefore, thus saith the Lord of Hosts, Consider
your ways. Ye have sown much, and bring in
little; ye eat, but ye have not enough; ye drink,
but ye are not filled with drink; ye clothe you,
but there is no warm; and he that earneth wages,
earneth wages to put them in a bag full of holes."
In the course of his providence, God frequently
causes such persons to behold their sin in their
punishment, by blasting their hopes of worldly
gain, and sweeping away their 'treasures by un-
foreseen accidents and adverse dispensations. Such
was the case in the days of Haggai, when the
people refused to exert themselves in rebuilding
the temple. " Ye looked for much, and lo, it
came to little; and, when ye brought it home, I
did blow upon it. Why? saith the Lord of Hosts;
because of mine house which is waste; and ye run
every man unto his own house." With how much
propriety may such declarations be applied to
many religionists in our times, when there are so
many urgent calls to arise and build the New
Testament Church, and extend its boundaries —
and who yet run every one to his " decorated
houses," to indulge in ease aud luxury, while the
extension of the house of God and the reparation
of its desolations require their most vigorous ex-
ertions? The money which is wasted in unne-
cessary decorations, in regard to dress and furni-
ture, and other superfluities, even by Christians —
were it collected into one sum, would amount to
far more than the whole of the funds belonging
to all I lie Religious and Philanthropic institutions
of the British Empire, and may be considered as
nothing less than a robbery of the Most High of
his " tithes and offeVings."

3. Covetousness manircsls itself under pretense
of providing suitable portions for children.

This is a very common apology for the keen
prosecution of wealth, and the anxious care which
IS exercised in securing it. In most instances,
however, it is nothing more than a cloak to cover
the vile principle of covetousness, when it is be-
ginning to sway its scepter over the mind. But,
supposing a regard for the temporal interoyls of
children to mingle itself with a covetous att'ec-
tiou, the practice of laying up fortunes for child-
ren, so as to make them independent, is both inju-
dicious, and immoral in its general tendency.
Every parent ought to give his children a good
education, so far as in his power, and above all

things, " train them up in tlie nurture and admo-
nition of the Lord." So far as his circumstances
permit, he should indulge them in every innocent
enjoyment; and when they are beginning businesa
or setting up in life, he may afford them as much
money as he can spare for enabling them to con-
duct, with success, the professions or employ-
ments in which they engage. This is nearly all
that a Christian parent should be anxious to ac-
complish, in reference to the temporal conditioa
of his children. For, when a young man has re-
ceived an education suitable to his station, aud
adequate allowance for the commencement and
prosecution of his business, and is, at the same
time, given to understand that the whole of his
future happiness and success in life will depend
upon his own prudence, exertions and moral con-
duct,— he will more readily apply the powers of
his mind to his profession, and attend to the dic-
tates of prudence, than if he had a constant de-
pendence on the wealth and support of his pa-
rents, whatever conduct he might pursue. Every
young person should be taught that he has a cer-
tain part to act in the world, for which he is
accountable to the great Lord of all — that his
happiness or misery in this world (under God),
is dependent upon himself and the course he pur-
sues— that he ought not to live merely for the
gratification of his own humor or pleasure, but
for the good of mankind — and that there are cer-
tain physical and moral laws which he can never
violate without feeling a corresponding punish-
ment.

But, if a parent act on a difl'erent principle; if
he indulge his covetous disposition for the purposa
of enriching his children, and give them reason
to expect that they shall inherit wealth and inde-
pendency, when he shall have left the world, tke
worst consequences may ensue, both to himself
and to his oifspring. When children begin to
discover that the penurious disposition of their
parents is a mean cringing vice, they will be led
to conclude that extravagance is a virtue, and thu»
a broad path will be opened for licentious conduct
in the future part of their lives. They are trained
up in the idea, that their parents are accumulating
a mass of wealth, which they are destined one
day to spend, and they live under restraints and
privations, which they hope the death of their
parents will soon remove. The children of very
covetous parents are frequently found in this situa-
tion. The old men die, and we immediately
behold the children entering on the career of
gayety and licentiousness, and running headlong
to poverty and destruction; and, instead of feeling
grateful to their parent for the riches he had accu-
mulated, can scarcely conceal their joy, that they
are removed from umler his restraints. The mo-
ment of his death, is the signal for the plunder of
his penurious savings. " I never knew the son
of a miser," says a certain writer, "either feeling
or expressing the least gratitude for the means
which his father had employed to amass his for-
tune. The heir of this kind of wealth receives i(
as a debt which has been long due, and which
has been recovered by a vexatious law-plea. He
may dispute the sum, but he will not esteem the
person who has prevented him from enjoying it."
Many examples, were it expedient, might be pro«
duced to illustrate the fact, that the riches of the
covetous man, after his death, " make thernselvea
wings and fly away," and that those to whom
they are left, too frequently " fall into snares and
drown themselves in destruction and perdition."

It is truly astonishing, that so many individuals
are to be found, whoso faculties are unimpaired.

ON THE EFFECTS OF COVETOUSNESS.

23

who appear in other respects men of sense, and

firofess a decent respect for the ordinances of re-
igion, and yet allow the love of money, and the
absurd desire of heaping' up useless wealth, to
triumph over every rulion^il and relij^Mons princi-
ple. When we s[)eak to th "m on the subject, they
attempt to silence every argument hy expatiating
on the necessiiy of proviiling for their' children,
as if tliey wi.ih'jd to prove that money is a hetter
provision than training tliem in intelligence, and
in moral and religious habits, and in rendering
them meet to be heirs of a blessed immortality.
Now, even in a temporal point of view, nothing
can be more injurious to a young man, than to
leave him such a portion of wealtii as will render
him, in the language of tlie world, independent,
especially if he have liltie relish for rational and
religious pursuits. He has no stimulus for culti-
vating his intellectual and moral powers; his time
frequently lies heavy on his hands; to promote
tJie plij'sical or moral comfort of oliicrs, forms no
part of his plan; his faculties become benumbed;
lie becomes a prey to the crafty and licentious;
he wanders about ft-om one place to another, and
from one pleasure to another, without any defined
object in view, but the gratification of his humors;
he feels, on the whole, but little enjoyment, for
this is only to be found in mental and bodily acti-
vity; he gives up at length to licentious habits
and sensual indulgences; his resources begin to
be diminished — he feels pecuniary embarrass-
ments; his pleasures are interrupted, and his mi-
series increase; and thus he passes through life in
a fretful humor, without rational enjoyment, and
without contributing to the good of others. Such
is too frequently the case with the children of
those who have worn themselves out in avaricious
activity, and deprived themselves of almost every
comfort, in order to lay up an inheritance for
their offspring.

Every young man, even the son of a nobleman,
■hould be taught that he is placed in a scene of
action, as well as of enjoyment; that, to contri-
bute to the good of society, ought to be one main
object of his life; and, that although he may not
need to earn his subsistence by tlie labor either
of his hands or of his mind — he ought to engage
in some honorable pursuit, which may tend to
promote his own happiness, the improvement of
■ociety, and the glory of his Maker. Even the
sons of the most opulent ought not to consider it
as a degradation to learn a mechanical employ-
ment, and to apply their corporeal powers, occa-
■ionally, to useful industry. Among many other
advantages, it miglit tend to strengthen their ani-
mal system, to invigorate flieir minds, and to
enable them to form a judicious estimate of the
value of mechanical inventions, and of the em-
ployments and intercourses of general society.
And their earnings might become a source of
wealth for carrrying forward improvements, and
adding spirit and vigor to every philanthropic
movement. With regard to the female members
of a family; if a parent have any wealth or inhe-
ritance to leave, the greater part should be be-
stowed on them, as they are neither so well
adapted by Nature for active labor, nor have the
same opporUinities as the male branches, for en-
gaging in business and increasing their store.
Yet, even the female sex, in the higher ranks,
ought not to consider themselves as exempted
from any labors to which they are competent,
and in which they may promote the best interests
of mankind. In short, it may be laid down as a
kind of maxim, that a great fortune bestowed
mpon a young man is one of the greatest evils

that can befall him, unless he make it one of hia
great objects to devote a considerable portion of i»
to the good of society; and, that labor, ooth of
body and mind, is essential to the true happiness
of man.

4. Covetoiisness displays itself on an cxtensivs
scale, and in an innumerable variety of modes —
in the various mercantile transaclions of mankind.

It would be impossible to describe all the vari-
ety of maneuvers by v/hich covetousnoss is, in
this way, displayed, even by multitudes who con-
sider themselves as followers of Christ ; and,
therefore, I shall only glance at s'^me of the nefa-
rious means which are frequently employed.
Among other well-known practices, are the fol-
lowing: varnishing over deteriorated articles with
a fair outside, in order to deceive the purchaser,
and to prevent the real state of the CQmmodity
froui being perceived. Hence, a pound of butter
has frequently been found with a quantity of
Scotch porridge in its interior; milk mixed with
chalk and water; sugar mixed with white sand;
the under part of a chest of tea of an inferior
quality to that of the top; and many such frauds
and deceptions, best known to the nefarious
trader. Other practices are, taking advantage of
ignorance to pass ofi" an unsaleable commodity,
and asking more than the just value of whatever
is offered for sale ; in a merchant denying the
goods which he has in his possession, when there
is the prospect of an advancing price; in his over-
charging for the articles of which he is disposing,
and undervaluing those he intends to purchase;
in using light weights and deficient measures,
when there is little prospect of their being detect-
ed; in the jealousies, slanders, and evil surmising
which one trader harbors, and endeavors slyly to
throw out against another; in their attempts to
extol their own articles beyond their just value,
and to depreciate the characters and the commo-
dities of their neighbors; in their engagfing in
smifjjling and other unchristian modes of traffic;
in taking advantage of the necessities of the poor
and unfortunate, in order to procure their goods
at half their value; in selling spirituous liquors to
the worthless and dissipated, whether men, wo-
men, or children, to swell the list of " transgres-
sors among men," merely for the sake of the
paltry proht of such a traffic; in tnafficking in
wind-bills, bribing the officers of justice for the
liberty of continuing a nefarious trade, and in a
thousand oilier modes which the fraudulent dealer
alone is best qualified to describe. In all such
transactions, not only is covetousness displayed,
but a principle of falsehood runs tbrough all his
mercantile negotiations, so that every fraudulent
trader is of necessity a systematic liar.

I have known high-flying professors of religion
guilty of most of the frauds to which I now
allude. 1 have known a merchant, an office-
bearer in a Christian church, who, bj"^ a dextrous
mode of measuring his cloth, kept off nearly an
inch from every yard, and who charged a higher
price for his commodities than any of his neigh-
bors; another of the same pretensions, who seem-
ed to consider himself as holier than others, who
possessed a considerable quantity of wealth along
with a good business, and who could, notwitli-
stauding, degrade himself and gratify his avarice,
by selling drams and gills of whisky and gin
over his counter, to dissipated women, and all
others who chose to be his customers. I have
seen such practices in the shop even of the mayor
of a large town, who was also a distinguished
member of the cliurch. I have known others of
similar religious pretensions, who have engagec'

24

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

in smuggling spirituous liquors, paper, teas, and
other conunotlities, who have even forged excise
Btainps, and who seemed to consider such prac-
tices as nowise inconsistent with the principles
of Christianity. I have known such whoso
weights and measures were deficient, wliose quar-
tern lo;ivos were from five to ten oiincos below
the just standard, and whose butter, when exposed
to sale in tlie public market, has been frequently
seized by police officers, on account of its defi-
ciency in weight. I have seen the confidence of
tlieir brethren in this way grossly abused by their
assumed character of piety and rectitude, and
have been sometimes tempted to suspect the ho-
nor and honesty of every one who made high pre-
tensions to sanctity and evangelical religion. Yet
many such nefarious practices are overlooked in
Christian churches, as scarcely worthy of cen-
sure, especially if the guilty individuals have a
large share of wealth, and regularly attend the
public ordinances of religion. Were it expedient
in the present case, numerous examples of the
abov<J description might be brought forward, i

Another way in which merchants display their
covetous disposition is, hy toiling their apprentices
and servants, and confining them for so many long
hours, that their health is injured, and their intellec-
tual and religious improvement prevented. I have
known apprentices not above thirteen years of
age, confined in shops from seven in the morning
until twelve at midnight, and sometimes to an
early hour in the morning, and having scarcely
two hours out of the twenty-four allotted tiiem
for meals; and that too, by merchants who made
a splendid profession of piety, and were considered
as pillars of Dissenting churches. By such con-
duct young persons are not only deprived of that
recreation'which is necessary to the vigor of their
animal system, but prevented from attending the
means of moral and religious instruction, and
from storing their minds with that knowledge
which they ought to possess as rational and im-
mortal beings. If, in the present state of things,
merchants and others require so long continued
drudgery from their servants, other arrangements
ought to be made, and additional servants or ap-
prentices procured, so that a moderate and rea-
sonable service only should be required from them.
But such arrangements would run counter to the
principle of avarice. Similar practices have long
been complained of in regard to many of our
spinning-mills, and other public manufactories,
and yet they have been defended by Christian
men, as if the laboring classes were to be consid-
ered in no other light than as mere animal ma- j
chines, or as beasts of burden. Covetousness :
likewise displays itself in keeping open shops to
late hours, and thus preventing families, servants,
shopmen, and apprentices from domestic enjoy-
ment, and from the means of rational improve-
ment; and, when measures have been concerted
to put a stop to this evil, I have known two or
three professed Christians, by their obstinacy and
avaricious dispositions, disconcert every plan
which had been formed for this purpose.

5. The covf-.ous principle, conjoined with gla-
ring acts of inh amanity and injustice, is frequently
displayed in cases of BAXiiRUPrcy.

How frequently do we find persons establish-
ing an extensive business on credit, when they
have no funds of their own; using wind-bills and
sometimes forgeries; furnishing elegant houses
with money which is not their own; living in
luxury and splendor; dashing along in gigs and
landaus, entertaining friends with sumptuous
dinners, and indulging in all the fashionablo follies

of life, until, in the course of two or three yeari,
: they are run aground and declared to be Baiik-
! rupts, who can scarcely pay a dividend of three
i shillings a pound. Previous to such bankruptcies,
many cases of fraud and injustice very frequently
occur. I huve known olfice-bearors in Christian
churches, di.ninguishcd for their high pretension^
to religion and piety, who, only a few days previ-
j ous to their failure in business, have borrowed
pretty large sums of money, and that, tx)o, even
1 from an industrious mechanic, who was induced,
! by deceitful words, to lend the whole of what he
had accumulated by industry and economy, du-
ring a course of many years, — scarcely a fraction
of which was ever recovered. In such cases, we
not unfrequently behold selfishness assuming a
vast variety of forms; practicing low cunning and
dishonesty, resorting to ail possible shifts of du-
plicit), to prolong the credit of a tottering estab-
Hshmtnt; concealing property which belonged to
others, or secretly disposing of it at half its value;
dealing in contraband articles, defrauding govern-
ment of its revenues, deceiving the unwary,
weaving a web of entanglement throughout evei^
department of the mercantile concern, gathering
up payments of money and merchandise against
tlie crisis which is approaching, and implicating
friends and acquaintances, and even the poor in-
dustrious laborer in their concerns, and involving
them in the impending ruin. If such v/ere the
practices merely of professed worldly men, we
might cease to wonder. But, alasl such wiles and
shufflings and dishonesties, are too frequently dis-
played by those who profess to be seeking after an
incorruptible inheritance.

But the exhibition of covetousness and dishon-
esty does not end at the period of bankruptcy.
After a legal settlement has been obtained, and
business resumed, similar exhibitions are repeat-
ed. I have known many individuals, belonging
both to the established church and to dissenters,
men whose professions of religion were ostenta
tious and glaring; who, after having become
bankrupts, lived as luxuriously, dressed as gaily,
gave their children as fashionable an education,
and set thorn up in as lucrative professions, as if
no such event had taken place. I have known
others who, after having paid six or seven shil-
lings on the pound, and been permitted to resume
trade, have, in the course of a few years, pur-
chased heritable property to a considerable amount,
without ever thinking of restoring to their credi-
tors a single shilling of what they had lost by
their bankruptcy. Because they obtained a settle-
ment from their creditors, and therefore are not
legally bound to refund their loss, therefore, they
imagine that they are under no moral obligation
to perform such an act of natural justice. The
cases of this kind which daily occur, are so nu-
merous and striking, that it would be needless
to condescend to particular instances. It is little
short of a libel on the moral perceptions of gene-
ral society, and particularly on the Christian
world, that a man voluntarily coming forward
and settling with his creditors, when he is not
legally bound to do so, should be considered as a
kind of phenomenon in the commercial world, and
worthy of being published in every newspaper,
when it is nothing more than what a sense of
natural justice would, in all cases, obviously dic-
tate. It is true, indeed, that the men of the
world seldom consider such cases as I have allu-
ded to, as of a criminal nature; but it is amazing
that Christian churches should almost entirely
overlook such displays of covetousness and injus-
tice, and inflict no censure on the ofTcndere, not-

ON THE EFFECTS OF COVETOUSNESS.

25

irithstanding tb-i malignant and anti-christian
dispositions and practices with which they are
associated.

6. There is too frequently a striking display of
covetousness in the case of many of the ministers
of reliction.

Not to mention the buying and selling of bene-
fices and other Simouiacal practices, which have
long abounded, and which have tended to throw
disgrace on the sacred olhce; there are many
otlier ways in which worldly-mindedness is mani-
fested by not a few in tliis class of Christian so-
ciety. Although I wish to speak with the greatest
respect of the ministers of the cJiurch, on account
of the sanctity and importance of the sacred
office, for which no one entertains a higher vene-
ration; yet I cannot shut my eyes to the many
examples around me, which prove, that not a few
Christian ministers are too much actuated and
directed in their movements, by a worldly-minded
and avaricious disposition. This propensity is
displayed in aspirings, with the utmost keenness,
after ecclesiastical dignities and preferments — not
for the sake of the duties connected with such
situations, nor with a view of occupying a field
of more extensive usefulness; but lor increasing
their revenues, and living in opulence and splen-
dor. The general conduct of many to whom I
allude, their neglect of the flock over which they
have been made overseers, and their indulgence
in the fashionable pursuits and amusements of
the world, too plainly evince the ruling disposi-
tion of their hearts. Would to God that such
persons would consider what views thej* will have
of such things, when stretched upon that bed
from which they are to rise no more, and about
to enter the confines of the eternal world! The
pious Mr. Hervey, about four days before his
death, when Dr. Stonehousc paid him a visit, and
was discoursing on the emptiness of worldly hon-
ors to an immortal, and on the unprofitableness
of riches to the irreligious, replied, '• True, Doc-
tor, true, the only valuable riches are in heaven.
What would it avail me now, to be the Arch-
bishop of Canterbury? Disease would show no
respect to my miter. That prelate is not only-
very great, but I am told, he has religion really at
heart. Yet it is godliness, and not grandeur, that
will avail him hereafter. The gospel is offered to
rae, a poor country parson, the same as to his
Grace. Oh! why then do ministers thus neglect
the charge of so kind a Saviour, fawn upon the
great, and hunt after worldly preferments with so
much eagerness, to the disgrace of our order?
These are the things which render the clergy so
justly contemptible to the worldlings. No won-
der tlie service of our church has become such a
formal, lifeless thing, since it is, alas! too gene-
rally executed by persons dead to godliness in all
their conversation; whose indifference to religion,
and worldly-minded behavior, proclaim the little
regard they pay to the doctrines of the Lord, who
bought them."

The same covetous propensity is indicated,
when a minister leaves an affectionate people,
among whom he has a competent support, for a
larger and more opulent congregation, where his
income will be considerably increased. I have
seldom known an instance in which a minister
voluntarily left his charge, unless when he had
the prospect of a larger stipend. There are,
doubtless, valid reasons why a minister of the
gospel may, with propriety, leave his charge; but
if he has previously been in moderately comforta-
ble circumstances, and if the increase of income
be the chief or only motive for tiie change, there

is too much reason to suspect, that a covetous
disposition has lurkwi in the breast, and has intlu*
enccd his decision. Not long ago, a dissenting
pastor received a call from a congregation in a
large town, where he was offered a larger stipend
than he had previously received. He was gene-
rally beloved by his people, he had received from
them handsome presents, as testimonial.^ of their
gratitude and affection; he received from them an
income adequate to his station, and to the supply
of every reasonable want; they pressed him to
remain, and promised to do everything that might
promote his comfort. But, for no other reason,
apparently, than the prospect of about £50 more
being added to his income, he parted with tliera
almost abruptly, and left them to draw the infe-
rence (which tliey did not hesitate to do), that ha
had more regard to his worldly interests than to
superintend the spiritual interests of an affection-
ate people. I am much mistaken if even the
temporal happiness of such a person shall be aug-
mented by such conduct; and if God, in the
course of his Providence, does not try him with
unexpected difficulties, and make him behold his
sin in his punishment.

This covetous disposition is likewise displayed by
ministers of the gospel when they take large farms
and engage with keenness in the pursuits of agri-
culture, and when they embark in extensive mer-
cantile concerns and speculations, for the purpose
of increasing their fortunes, and enabling them to
live in splendor and affluence. It is not long
since a dissenting minister was advertised in the
newspapers, among the list of bankrupts, as "the

Rev. Mr. H , Banker and Builder.'' And,

even a Doctor of Divinity, who enjoyed a hand-
some stipend, and was distinguished as a popular
preacher, has been known to have embarked with
eagerness in mercantile speculations, connected
with shipping affairs, spinning mills, banking,
building, and other departments, for the purpose
of gratifying a worldly disposition, and enabling
him to leave, at his death, several thousands of
pounds to each member of his family. Another
of the same description has been known to en-
gage in extensive agricultural operations, in sur-
veying and superintending roads and acting as
factor for neighboring Squires, in order to hoard
up worldly treasures, although his stipend was
one of the largest in the country around. Indeed,
instances of this description are so far from being
uncommon, that they are scarcely considered as
inconsistent with the sacred office; and a man,
under the influence of such principles, will pass
through life with a certain degree of respect from
the church and the world, as if he had acted in no
way inconsistent with the character of a Chris-
tian. In the case of such, the duties of their
office generally form only a subordinate object of
attention. Another way in which covetousness
sometimes manifests itself, especially in the case
of dissenting ministers, is — their concealing cer-
tain important truths in their public ministrations,
and neglecting to apply the principles and pre-
cepts of Christianity to the particular cases of
every class of gospel-hearers without respect of
persons, for fear of offending certain leading in-
dividuals of the church, and risking the loss of a
portion of emolument. It is likewise manifested
in winking at the delinquencies of men of wealth
and influence, in cringing to such characters, and
attempting to screen them from censure, when
their conduct demands it. In all such cases as
those to which I allude, the conduct of a Chris-
tic.n pastor requires to be guided by wisdom and
prudence. But when ho clearly perceives tlie

26

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS

path of tnith ami duty, he ought at once, without
fear of consequences, to act on the princiijle
"Fiat Justitia ruat cnelum.'" L^t wliat is ac-
cordant with eternal truth and rigliteousness be
Kerfornied, although the mighty should rage, the
eavens fall, and tlie elernent.s riisli into confusion.
But, in general, it will be found, that lie who
prudently discharges his duty, trusting for sup-
port in ttie Providence of God, will seldom bo left
to sink under his diluculties, or to want the means
of comfortable support. The conduct of the apos-
tles, in such cases, should be imitated by every
Christian minister. Wlien Peter was brought
before the Jewish rulers to account for his con-
duct in healing the impotent man, and preaching
the resurrection of Jesus, he boldly declared, " Be
it known to you all, that by the name of Jesus
Christ of Nazareth, whon'» ye crucified, whom
God raised from the dead, even hij him doth this
man stand before you whole. This is the stone
that was set at naught of you builders, which is
become the head of the corner." And when he
was commanded to teach no more in the name of
Jesus, he replied, with the same fearlessness of
consequences, " Whether it be right in the sight
of God to hearken unto you more than unto God,
judge ye. For 1 cannot but speak the things
which I have seen and heard." And Paul, when
he was about to leave the church of Ephesus,
could declare, " I have kept back nothing that
was profitable unto you; I have not shunned to
declare to you all the counsel of God: I have
coveted no man's gold, nor silver, nor apparel, for
those hands have ministered to my necessities. I
have showed you all things, how that so laboring
ye ought to support the weak, and to remember
the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said. It is
more blessed to, give than to receive." Were all
Christian ministers animated by the spirit which
actuated these holy apostles, we should seldom
find pastors shrinking from their duty, from the
tear of man, or from worldly motives, "shunning
to declare the whole counsel of God." Much less
should we ever behold men more careful to fleece
tlieir flocks than to feed them with knowledge —
and who have the effrontery to receive many
hundreds, and even thousands of pounds a year, '
aa Christian ministers appointed to the charge of i
souls, while yet they spend their incomes in
fashionable dissipation in foreign lands, regardless i
of the spiritual interests of those precious souls i
which were committed to their care. It is by i
such conduct in the clerical order, that religion |
and its ordinances are despised and treated with i
contempt, more than by all the efforts of avowed ;
and unblushing infidelity; and it becomes all such
seriously to consider how far they are responsible
for the demoralization of society, the prevalence
of irreligion, and the ruin of immortal souls; and
what account they will one day be called to give
of the manner in which they discharged the im-
portant office committed to their trust.

I shall now adduce a few miscellaneous examples,
illustrative of the ascendency of the covetous prin-
ciple in those who made, or who still make a
flaming profession of religion.

A certain member of a dissenting church, who
had long been a zealous supporter of its peculiar
modes and tenets, had, in the course of liis busi-
ness as a carpenter, and by penurious habits, amass-
ed a considerable portion of property, but was
remarked to be of a hard and griping disposition,
and could seldom be induced to contribute to any
religious object. He had a brother, a man of
good character, and a member of the same church,
who, by family and personal distress, had been

reduced to extreme poverty. Some of his Chris-
tian brethren represented to him the case of this
distressed brother, ami urged him to aflord the
family a little pecuniary relief. He re])iied, "My
brother little knows how difficult it is for me to
get money; 1 have nothing that I can sparo.
JJoes he know that I have lately bouglit a house,
and have the, pric^ of it to pay in a few days? "—
and he peremptorily refused to bestow a single
shilling Upon his distressed relative. Yet no
public notice was takoi of such conduct by the
religious society with which he was connected,
for, unfortunately, such cases are not generally
considered as scandals, or tests of the want of
Christian principle. His wife, who survived him,
and who was of a similar disposition, while lying
on her death-bed, kept the keys of her trunks and
drawers constantly in her liands, and would, on
no account, part with them to any individual,
unless when she was in a position to perceive
exactly everything that was transacted while the
keys were used, and appeared to be restless and
uneasy until they were returned. The idea of
losing a single sixpence, or the least article, seem-
ed to go like a dagger to her heart. After she had
breathed her last, a bag, containing bank-notes,
bills, and other documents, was found in her
hand, which she had carefully concealed from
her attendants, as if she had expected to carry ..
along with her to the world of spirits. Such are
the degrading and awful effects of covetousness,
when suffered to gain the ascendency over ths
heart. Can such a spirit be supposed to be pre-
pared for the mansions of the just, and for enter-
ing into that inheritance which is incorruptible,
and that fadeth not away?

The following is another example, relating to a
lady in comfortable circumstances, who died three
or four years ago. This lady was married to a
gentleman who was generally respected as a worthy
man and a zealous Christian. His habits were
somewhat penurious; and from a low situation,
he rose by various means, some of which were
scarcely honorable, to a state of wealth and inde-
pendence, so that, about 12 years before his death,
he was enabled to retire from the duties of his
office, to live in a state of respectability. His
wife was likewise a professed religious character;
she had no children, and her great anxiety was to
preserve, if possible, any portion of her husband's
property from passing into the hands of his rela-
tions. When any of her husband's relatives hap-
pened to live with them for the sake of sociality
or for affording them assistance in their old age,
she denied them almost every comfort, and grum-
bled at the least article they received, as if it had
been a portion of flesh torn from her body — until,
one by one, all such relatives forsook her. After
her husband's death, the same penurious habits re-
mained, and, as is usually the case, grew stronger
and more inveterate. After her death, a purse
was found concealed under her pillow, containing
above £300 in cash and bank-notes, to which, it
appears, her heart liad been more firmly wedded
than to "the treasure in the heavens that faileth
not," and "the glory which fadeth not away."
Yet this sordid mortal passed among Christian
society as a follower of Jesus. Another old wo-
man died lately, who was a professed zealot for
the truth, for "a covenanted work of reforma-
tion," and for testifying against abounding errora
and immoralities in the church. She was noted
among her neighbors for telling fibs, and giving
false representations of her own circumstances
and those of others. She represented herself as
destitute of money, and almost of dnily bread—

ON THE EFFECTS OF COVETOUSNESS.

27

that she rould scarcely attain the enjoyment of
the coarsest morsel — and, of course, she was
favored witli a small aliment from a charitable
fund. She was also distinguished as a busy-body
Rnd tale-bearer, and was frequently caught secret-
ly listening to the conversation of her inmiediate
neighbors, and had burrowed a hole below the
partition which separated her apartment from
that of another family, in order that she might
Indulge in this mean and unchristian practice.
In a short time after she had represented herself
as a destitute paujier, she died, and, after her
death, when her store was inspected, it was found
to contain a considerable quantity of confec-
tionaries of different kinJs, spirits, wines, and not
a small portion of money and other articles, some
of whicli had been accumulating for years. Yet
no one was more zoalous than Margaret for the
truth, and for testii'ying against the "defections"
of the established cluirch, and the sins and immo-
ralities of the age. Such examples as those now
stated, are to be found throughout almost every
portion of the visible church, and might be mul-
tiplied to an indefinite extent.

There is not a more common case of covet-
ousness that occurs in Christian society, than that
of taking advantage oftlie cioil law, in opposition to
natural justice, in order to gratify an avaricious
affection. A father dies suddenly without a willj
certain relations, perhaps the son of the first mar-
riage, seize upon the father's property, while the
widow and her infant children are turned adrift
from their accustomed dwelling, either with no-
thing, or with a pittance so small as to be insuf-
ficient to procure the coarsest necessaries of life.
Or, perhaps a will has been drawn up, specifying
the intention of the father in regard to the inher-
itance of his property, but he dies before he has
had an opportunity of subscribing the document.
Though the will of the father was clearly made
known to all concerned, yet a person called the
hdr at law, will immediately step in and claim the
whole property which the parent intended to be-
queath, without any regard to the natural rights of
others. The death of parents and relatives fre-
quently produces a scene of rapacity and avarice
which is truly lamentable to a pious mind, and
which no one could previously have expected.
The death of friends, which should naturally lead
us to reflections ozi the vanity of worldly treasures,
and the reality of a future state, not unfrequently
steels the heart against every generous feeling, and
opens all the avenues of ambition and avarice. As
a certain writer has observed, " The voice from
the tomb leads us back to the world, and from the
very asiies of the dead there comes a fire which
enkindles our earthly desires." The instances of
this kind are so numerous, that volumes might be
filled with the details. In opposition to every
Christian principle, and to the dictates of natural
justice, professed religionists will grasp at wealth
wrung from the widow and the orphan, because
the civil law does not interpose to prevent such
barefaced robberies; and yet they will dare to hold
up their faces, without a blush, in Christian soci-
ety— while one who had committed a far less ex-
tensive robbery, in another form, would be held up
to e'Si^ration, and doomed to the gibbet. 1 know
no practical use of Christian principle, unless it
leads a^man in such cases to ])erform an act of
natural justice, altogether independent of the
compulsions or regulations of civil codes. " The
law," says Paul, "was not made for a right-
eous man, but for the lawless and disobedient,
the ungodly and the profane;" and he who, in
caaea which natural justice should determine,

takes shelter under the protection of law, in com-
mitting an act of oppression, ought to be excluded
from the society of the faithful, and regarded as a
" heathen man and a publican." That such cha-
racters are so frequently found in the visible
church, is a plain evidence that the laws of Christ'*
kingdom are not yet strictly and impartially ad-
ministered.

The forms of our civil laws are a striking proof
of the extensive range of the operations of the
covetous principle, and a kind of libel on the cha-
racter of mankind, however much refined by civ-
ilization and Christianity. "It is impossible,"
says a periodical writer, "to see the long scrolls in
which every contract is included, with all the ap-
pendages of seals anti attestation, without wonder-
ing at the depravity of those beings who must be
restrained from violation of promises by such for-
mal and public evidences, and precluded from
equivocation and subterfuge by such punctilious
minuteness. Among all the satires to which folly
and wickedness have given occasion, none is
equally severe with a bond or a settlement." And
is it not a satire upon Christianity, that its pro-
fessed votaries require such legal obligations, and
punctilious forms and specifications, to prevent
the inroads of avarice? and that no one can safely
trust money or property to any one on the faith
of a Christian, or depending purely on his sense
of equity and justice?

Before proceeding to the next department of
our subject, it may not be improper to advert to
our covetousness and idolatry, considered as a
nation.

Great Britain has long been designated by the
title of a Christian nation. But, if proud ambi-
tion and an inordinate love of riches and power
be inconsistent with the religion of Jesus, we
have, in many instances, forfeited our right to
that appellation. Without adverting to the im-
mense load of taxation which has long been levied
from the mass of the people, and the extravagance
with which many portions of it have been ex-
pended— the heavy imposts ou foreign produce,
and the harassing regulations of the excise, which
prevent a free intercourse with foreign nations —
the keenness of our merchants and manufacturers
in accumulating wealth and amassing immense
fortunes for the purposes of luxury — the eagerness
with which our Landholders endeavor to keep up
the price of grain, although the poor should thus
be deprived of many of their comforts — the pov-
erty of one class of our clergy and the extrava-
gant incomes enjoyed by others — passing the con-
sideration of these and similar characteristics, I
shall only mention one circumstance which ap-
pears altogether inconsistent with our character
as a Ciiristian nation, and that is, the revenues de-
rived from the support of Idolatry in India, and
the encouragement thus given to the cruelties
and abominations of Pagan worship.

In another age, it will perhaps scarcely be be-
lieved, that Britain, distinguished for her zeal in
propagating the gospel throughout the heathen
world, has, for many years past, derived a revenue
from the worship.M's of the idol Juggernaut, and
other idols of a similar description at Gya, Alla-
habad, Tripetty, and other places in Hindostan.
From the year 1813 to 1825, there was collected,
by order of the British government, from the pil-
grims of Juggernaut alone, about 1,3G0,0()0 ru-
pees, or £170,000; a great part of which was
devoted to the support of the idol, and the priests
who ofRclated in conducting the ceremonies of
this abominable worship. Dr. Buchanan, in his
1 " Christian Researches," stales, from official ao-

28

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS

counts, that tlie annual expense of tho idol Jug-
gernaut presented to the English government is

83 follows:

Eupees. JE.
EKpenses of the Table of the Idol, 36,115 or 4,J14
Do. of his dress, or wearing apparel, 2,712 3:i9
Do. wages of his servants, 10,0,57 1,259
Do. contingent expenses at the differ-
ent seasons of pilgrimage, 10,9?9 l,:i73
Do. of his elephants anil horses, 3,030 378
Do. of his annual state carriage, or the

car and tower of the idol, 6,713 839

Rupees, 69,016 X'8,702

In the itenrj " wages of servants," are included
»he wages of the courtesans, or strumpets who are
kept for the service of the temple. Mr. Hunter,
the collector of the ])ilgrim tax for the year 1S06,
told Mr. Buchanan tliat three state carriages were
decorated that year, with upward of £200 sterling
of English broadcloth and baize.

The following items show the gain of tliis un-
natural association with idolatry at some of the
principal stations appropriated for idol worship.

Rupees.
Net receipts of pilgrim tax at Jnggemant for 1815, 135,0o7

Do. at tiy a for 1816, 182,876

Do. at Allahahad, for 1816, . - . - - 73,053
Do. at Kashee-poor, Surkaree, Sumbal and

Kawa, for lsl6, 5,683

Do. at Tripetty, near Madras, for 1811, - 1.52,000

Rupees,* 549,279

Mr. Hamilton, in his "Description of Hindos-
tan," as quoted by Mr. Peggs, in his "Pilgrim tax
in India," states, with respect to the district of
Tanjore, that "in almost every village, there is a
temple with a lofty gateway of massive architec-
ture, where a great many Brahmins are maintain-
ed, partly by an alloioance from government. The
Bralmiins are here extremely loyal, on account of
the protection they receive, and also for an alloio-
ance granted them by the British governwent of
45,000 pagodas or £18,000 annually, which is dis-
tributed for the support of the poorer temples,'''' — a
sum which would purchase one hundred and
eighty thousand Bibles at two shillings each!
Can anything be more inconsistent than the con-
duct of a professed Christian nation in thus sup-
porting a system of idolatry, the most revolting,
cruel, lascivious, and profane? Yet a member of
the parliament, C. BuUer, Esq., in his letter to the
Court of Directors, relative to Juggernaut, in 181."-t,
says, " I cannot see what possible objection there
is to the continuance of an established tax, par-
ticularly when it is taken into consideration what
large possessions in land and money are allowed
by our government, in all parts of the country, /or
keeping up the religious institutions of the Hindoos
and the Mussulmans.^^

The scenes of Juggernaut and other idol-tem-
ples are so well known to the British public, that
I need not dwell on the abominations and the
spectacles of misery presented in these habita-
tions of cruelty. I shall only remark that, from
all parts of India, numerous bodies of idol-wor-
shipers or pilgrims travel many hundreds of
miles to pay homage to the different idols to
which I have alluded. A tax is imposed by the
British government on these pilgrims, graduated
according to the rank or circumstances of the
pilgrim, and amounting from one to twenty or
thirty rupees — which, according to the estimate

* A Rupee, thongh generally considered to be only the
valne of half a crown, yet is reckoned in the case of the
pilgrims of India, to be e'juivajent to the value of one pound
sterling to an inhabitant of Britain, so that, in this point of
view, rupees may be considered as Cfiuivalent to pounds.

stated in the preceding note, will be equiva-
lent to one pound sterling to the poorest clast
of pilgrims. Those journeying to Allahabad, for
example, are taxed at the following rates. On
every pilgrim on foot, one rupee. On every pil-
grim with a horse or j)alanquin, two rupees. On
every pilgrim with an e\o\->hixn\,, twenty rupees, &,c.
Vast numbers of deluded creatures Hock every
year to those temples. In 1825, the number that
arrived at Juggernaut was estimated at two hun-
dred and twenty-five timusand, and in some cases
they have been calculated to amount to more than
a. million. The deprivations and miseries sulFered
by many of these wretched beings arc almost in-
credible. Dr. Buchanan, who visited Juggernaut
temple in June, 1806, gives the following state-
ment. "Numbers of pilgrims die on tiie road,
and their boilies generally remain unburied. On
a plain near tlie pilgrim caravansera, 100 miles
from Juggernaut, I saw more than 100 skulls; the
dogs, jackals, and vultures, seem to live here on
human prey. Wherever I turn ray eyes, I meet
death intone shape or other. From the place
where iTiow stand, I have a view of a host of
people, like an army encamped at the outer gate
of the town of Juggernaut, where a guard of
soldiers is posted, to prevent them from entering the
town until they have paid the tax. A pilgrim an-
nounced that he was ready to offer himself a
sacrifice to the idol. He laid himself down on
the road before the car as it was moving along, OB
his face, with his arms stretched forward. The
multitude passed him, leaving the space clear, and
he was crushed to death by the wheels. How
much I wished that the proprietors of India stock
would have attended the wheels of Juggernaut, and
seen this peculiar source of their revenue! 1 beheld
a distressing scene this morning in the place of
skulls; a poor woman lying dead, or nearly so,
and her two children by her, looking at the dogs
and vultures which were near. The people passed
by without noticing the children! I asked them
where was their home? They said they had no
home but where their mother was. 0 there is no
])ity at Juggernaut I Those who support his king-
dom, err, I trust, from ignorance; they know not
what they do."

" The loss of life," says Colonel Phipps, who
witnessed this festival in 1822, "by this deplora-
ble superstition, probably exceeds that of any
other. The aged, the weak, the sick, are persua-
ded to attempt this pilgrimage as a remedy for all
evils. The number of women and children is
also very great, and thej- leave their families and
their occupations to travel an immense distance,
with the delusive hope of obtaining eternal bliss.
Their means of subsistence on the road are scanty,
and their light clothing and little bodily strength,
are ill calculated to encounter the inclemency of
the weather. When they approach the temple,
they find scarcely enough left to pay the tax to
government, and to satisfy the rapacious brah-
mins; and, on leaving Juggernaut, with a long
journey before them, their means of support are
often quite exhausted. The work of death then
becomes rapid, and the route of the pilgrims may
be traced by the bones left by jackals and vul-
tures, and the dead bodies may be seen in every
direction."

The Rev. W. Bampton, in an account of this
festival, in July, 1823, states, "in the front of
one of the cars lay the body of a dead man; on«
arm and one leg were eaten; and two dogs were
then eating him; many people were near, both
moving and stationary, but they did not seem to
take any notice of the circumstance. I went to

9N THE EFFECTS OF C0VET0USNE3S.

29

•M the pilgrims, who, because they could not pay
the tax, were kept without one of tlio gates. In
the course of the inorniug, 1 saw, witliin a mile
of tht! gate, six more dead, and the dogs and birds
were eating three of them. I'ive or six lay dead
witliiii a mile of the gate A military oHicer
pointed out a piece of ground, scarcely an acre,
on which he had, last year, counted lu-eiity-five
dead bodies.^' Mr. Lacey, a missionary, who was
at the festival in June, 18'25, slates, "On the
evening of the I9th, 1 counted upward of sixty
dead and dying, from the temple, to about half a
mile below — leaving out the sick that had not
much life. In every street, -corner, and open
space — in fact, wherever you turned your eyes,
the dead and the dying met your sight. I visited
one of tiie Golgothas between the town and the
principal entrance, and I saw sights which I never
ehall forget. The small river there was quite
glutted with the dead bodies. The wind had
drifted them all together, and they were a com-
plete mass of putrefying flesh. They also lay
upon the ground in heaps, and the dog^ and birds
were able to do but little toward devouring them."
Such horrid details could be multiplied without
number; every one who has visited such scenes
of misery and depravity, gives similar relations,
some of which are still more horrible and revolt-
ing. With regard to the number that perish on
such occasions, the Rev. Mr. Ward estimates that
4000 pilgrims perish every year, on the roads to,
and at holy places — an estimate which is consider-
ed by others as far below the truth. Captain

F cstinwtes those who died at Cuttack and

Pooree, and between the two stations, at 5000.
How many of these miserable people must have
died before they reached their liomesl many of
them coming three, six, or nine hundred miles.

Mr. M , the European collector of the tax

at Pooree, estimated the mortality at 20,000!

Juggernaut is one of the most celebrated sta-
tions of idolatry in India. All the land within
twenty miles is considered holy; but the most
sacred spot is inclosed within a stonewall twenty-
one feet high, forming a square of about 656 feet.
Within this area are about fifty temples; but the
most conspicuous building consists of one lofty
stone tower, 184 feet high, and twenty-eight and
a half feet square inside. The idol Juggernaut,
his brother Bulbudra, and his sister Sabadra,
occupy the tower. The roofs are ornamented
with representations of monsters; the walls of
tlic temple are covered with statues of stone,
representing Hindoo gods, with their wives, in
attitudes grossly indecent. The three celebrated
idols alluded to, are wooden busts six feet high,
having a rude resemblance of the human head,
and are painted white, yellow, and black, with
frightfully grim and distorted countenances.
They are covered with spangled broadcloth, fur-
nished from, the export warehouse of the British
government. The car on which the idol is drawn,
measures forty-three and a half feet high, has six-
teen wheels, of six and a half feet diameter, and
a platform thirty-four and a half feet square.
The ceremonies connected with this idolatrous
worship, are, in many instances, exceedingly re-
volting and obscene. At Ranibut, in the province
of Gurwal, is a temple sacred to Rajah Ishuara,
which is principally inhabited by dancing iiomen.
The initiation into this society is performed by
anointing the head with oil taken from the lamp
placed before the altar, by which act they make a
formal abjuration of their parents and kindred,
devoting their future lives to prostitution; and the
Bntish government, by giving annually 512 ru-

pees to tlie religious mendicants who frequent
this temple, directly sanction this system of ob-
scenity and pollution. Many temples of Impurity
exist in other places of liindostan. Taveriiier
mentions a village where there is a pagoda to
which all the Indian courtesans come to make
their offerings. This pagoda is full of a great
number of naked images. Girls of eleven or
twelve years old, who have been bought and edu-
cated for the purpose, are sent by their mistresses
to this pagoda, to offer and surrender themselves up
to this idol.

In order to induce ignorant devotees to forsake
their homes, and commence pilgrimages to Uiese
temples of impurity and idolatry, a set of avari-
cious villains, termed Pihjrim htiutcrs, are em-
ployed to traverse the country, and by all manner
of falsehoods, to proclaim tlie greatness of Jug-
gernaut and other idols. They declare, for exam-
ple, that this idol has now so fully convinced his
conquerors [that is, the British] of his divinity,
that they have taken his temple under their own
superintendency, and that they expend 60,000
rupees from year to year to provide him with an
attendance worthy of his dignity. These pilgrim
hunters are paid by the British government. If
one of them can march out a thousand persona
and persuade them to undertake the journey, he
receives 1500 rupees, if they he of the lower
class; and 3000 rupees, if they be persons belong-
ing to the highest class. But, what is worst of
all — the conduct of the British government in
relation to this system, has led many of the natives
to believe that the British nation approves nf the
idolatrous worship established in India. A Hindoo
inquired of a missionary in India, " If Jugger
naut be nothing, why does the Company take so
much money from those who come to see him? "
Mr. Lacey, a missionary, who went.to relieve the
destitute on the road to Cuttack, during one of
the festivals, relates the following incident: —
" You would have felt your heart moved, to hear,
as I did, the natives say — 'Your preaching is a lie;
— for, if ijour Saviour and your religion are thus
merciful, how do you then take away the money of
the poor and suffer him to starve?' " It is indeed
no wonder that when the natives see a poor crea-
ture lying dying for want, they should reflect,
that the two rupees he paid as a tax, would have
kept him alive. Nor is it indeed a pleasing reflec-
tion to a European mind, that these tu-n rupees
form precisely the difference between life and death
to many who have perished for want on their road
Itome. Another missionary relates, " Passing one
evening a large temple, I caught a sight of one
of the idols, and exclaimed, sinful, sinful. The
native who was with me asked, ' Sir, is that sin-
ful for which the Company gives thousands?' A
man said to me a few days ago, ' If the govern-
ment does not forsake Juggernaut, how can you
expect that we should?' " In this way the efforts
of Christian missionaries to turn the Hindoo from
idolatry, are, in many instances, completely para-
lyzed. *

Such is the worship which the British govern-
ment supports, and from which it derives an an-
nual revenue: Such is the covrlnnsncss literally
and directly connected with " itiolatry,'' manifest-
ed by those who give their sanction and support
to a system of idol-worship, distinguished for ra-
pacity, cruelty, obscenity, and everything shock-
ing to the feelings of humanity! If we are com-

* Most of the facts above stated have Leen lelected u4
abridgeil fiom Sir. Fegg's "Pilgrim tai in lad. a."

30

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS

inaiided to "fl«e from idolatry," "to abstain from
meala oftl-red to idols," and to " iiate even the
^rnient spotted by the flesii," wluit shall we
think of tlie practice of receiving hundreds of
tliousands of rupees annually, ibr permitting
blinded idolaters to worship the most despicable
idols — of clothing those idols, repairing their tem-
ples, and paying the rapacious and unfeeling
priests tliat minister at their altars? What shall
we think of the practice of Christian Britons
sending forth a body of idol-missionaries, far ex-
ceeding in number all t!ie Christian missionaries,
perhaps, throughout the world, who, from year to
year, j)ropagate delusion, and' proelaim, for tiie
sake of gain — the transcendent eliicacy of behold-
ing "a log of wood!" " Be astonished, 0 ye hea-
vens, at this." No wonder if Ckristiaa mission-
aries have the most formidable opposition to en-

counter, when the very nation that sont them
forth to undermine the fabric of Pagan supersti-
tion, gives direct countenance and supjjrort to
everything that is abhorrent and debasing in the
system of idolatry.

How appropriate the wish expressed by Dr. Bu-
chanan, " that the proprietors of India slock, could
have attended the wheels of Juggernaut, and seen
this peculiar source of their revenue!" I would
live on "a dinner of herbs," or even on the grass
of the fields, before I would handle a sum of
money procured in this way, to supply the most
delicious fare. From whatever motives support
is given to this system of Idolatry, it will remain
an indelible stain on the British nation, to gene-
rations yet unborn, and its miserable and demo-
ralizing effects will only be fully known in the
eternal world.

CHAPTER II.

ON THE ABSUx^DITY AND IRRATIONALITY OF COVETOUSNESS.

The Creator has endowed man with mental fa-
culties which, if properly directed and employed,
would be sufficient, in many cases, to point out
the path of virtue, and to show the folly and un-
reasonableness of vice. All the laws of God,
when properly investigated as to their tendency
and effects, will be found accordant with the dic-
tates of enlightened reason, and calculated to pro-
duce the greatest sum of human happiness; and
the dispositiqns and vices which these laws de-
nounce will uniformly be found to have a tenden-
cy to produce discomfort and misery, and to sub-
vert the moral order and happiness of the intelli-
gent system. On these and similar grounds, it
may not be inexpedient to offer a few remarks on
the folly and irrationality of the vice to which our
attention is directed.

In the first place, the irrationality of Covetous-
ness, will appear, if we consider the noble intellec-
tual faculties with which man is endowed.

Man is furnished not only with sensitive pow-
ers to perceive and enjoy the various objects with
which his terrestrial habitation is replenished, but
also with the powers of memory, imagination,
judgment, reasoning, and the moral faculty. By
these powers he can retrace and contemplate the
most remarkable events which have happened in
every period of the world, since time began; sur-
vey the magnificent scenery of nature in all its
variety and extent; dive into the depths of the
ocean; ascend into the regions of the atmosphere;
pry into the invisible regions of creation, and be-
hold the myriads of animated beings that people
the drops of water; determine the courses of the
celestial orbs; measure the distances and magni-
tudes of the planets; predict the returns of comets
and eclipses; convey himself along n)ighty rivers,
and across the expansive ocean; render the most
stubborn elemests of nature subservient to his de-
signs and obedient to his commands; and, in short,
can penetrate beyond all that is visible to common
eyes, to those regions of S])ace where suns un-
numbered shine, and mighty worlds are running
their solemn rounds; and perceive the agency of
Infinite Power displaying itself throughout the
nnlimited regions of the universe. By these pow-
ers he can trace the existence and the attributes

of an Invisible and Almighty Being operating In
the sun, the moon, and the starry orbs, in the re-
volutions of the seasons, the agency of the ele«
ments, the process of vegetation, the functions of
animals, and the moral relations which subsist
among intelligent beings; and in such studies and
contemplations he can enjoy a happiness infinite-
ly superior to all the delights of mere animal sen-
sation. How unreasonable then, is it, for a being
who possesses such sublime faculties, to have his
whole soul absorbed in raking together a few pal-
try pounds or dollars, which he either applies to
no useful object, or employs merely for purposes
of pride and ostentation 1 We are apt to smile at
a little boy hoarding up heaps of cherry stonesy
small pebbles, or sea shells; but he acts a more ra-
tional part than the covetous man whose desires
are concentrated in "heaping up gold as the dust,
and silver as the stones of the brook;" for the
boy has not arrived at the full exercise of his ra-
tional powers, and is incapable of forming a com-
prehensive judgment of those pursuits which
ought to be the great end of his existence. The
aims and pursuits of every intelligence, ought to
correspond with the faculties he possesses. But
does the hoarding of one shilling after another,
day by daj', and the absorption of the faculties in
this degrading object, while almost every higher
aim is set aside, — correspond to the noble powers
with which man is invested^ and the variety and
sublimity of those objects which solicit their at-
tention? Is there, indeed, any comparison be-
tween acquiring riches and wealth as an ultimata
object, and the cultivation of the intellectual fa-
culties, and the noble pursuit of knowledge and
moral improvement? If man had been intended
to live the life of a miser, he would rather havo
been formed into the shape of an atit or n pismire,
to dig among mud and sand and putrefaction, to
burrow in holes and crevices of the earth, and to
heap up seeds and grains against the storms of
winter; in which state he would live according to
the order of nature, and be incapable of degrading
his mental and moral powers.

There cannot be a more absurd and preposter-
ous exhibition, than that of a man furnished with
powers capable of arresting the elements of Qft-

ABSURDITY AND IRRATIONALITY OF COVETOUSNESS.

31

tare, of directing the lightnings in their course,
of penetrating to the distant regions of creation,
of weighing tiie masses of surrounding worLls,
of holding ii sublime intercourse vvitli liis Al-
mighty .Aiaker, and of perpetual progression in
knowledge and felicity, throughout an inleruiiua-
ble round of existence; yet prostrating these no-
ble powers by concentrating them on the one sole
object of amassing a number of guineas and
banknotes, which are never intended to be applied
to any rational or benevolent purpose; as if man
wero raised no liigher in the scale of intellect,
than the worms of the dust! Even some of the
lower aniniiils, as the dog and the horse, display
more noble ami generous feelings, than tlie earth-
worm, from whose grasp you cannot wrench a
single sliilling for any beneficent object. And
shall man, who was formed ufter the image of his
Maker, and invested witli dominion over ail the
inferior tiibes of animated nature; thus reduce
himself by his groveling afFeclions below the
rank of t!ie beuhts of the forest and the fowls of
heaven? Nothing can afford a plainer proof of
man's depravity, and tliat lie has fallen from his
high estate of primeval innocence and rectitude;
and there cannot be a greater libel on Christianity
and on Christian churches, than that such charac-
ters should assume the Christian profession, and
have their names enrolled among the society of
the faithful.

2. Tlie folly of Covetousness appears in the ab-
tolute w.vxT OF UTILITY which characterizes the
conduct of tlie avaricious man.

True wisdom consists in proportioning means
to ends, and in proposing a good and worthy end
as the object of our pursuit. He would be ac-
counted a fool, who should attempt to build a ship
of war on one of the highest peaks of the Alps
or the Andes, or who should spend a large for-
tune in constructing a huge machine which was
of no use to mankind, but merely that they might
look at the motion of its wheels and pinions; or
who should attempt to pile up a mountain of
sand witliin the limits of the sea, which the foam-
ing billows, at every returning tide, would sweep
away into the bosom of the deep. But the man
" who lays up treasures for himself and is not
rich toward God," acts with no less unreasonable-
ness and folly. He hoards riches which ho never
intends to use; he vexes and torments himself in
acquiring them; he stints himself of even lawful
sensitive comforts; and his sole enjoyment seems
to be that of brooding over in his mind an arith-
metical idea connected with hundreds or thousands
of circular pieces of gold, or square slips of pa-
per. The poor are never to be warmed, or fed, or
clothed, the oppressed relieved, the widow's heart
made to leap for joy, the ignorant instructed, the
ordinances of religion supported, or the gospel
promoted in heathen lands, by means of any of
the treasures which he accumulates. He "spends
his money for that which is not bread, and his la-
bor for that which satisfieth not;" and neither
himself, his family, his friends, his country, or
the wprld, is hen<'tited by his wealth. I have read
of a Reverend Mr. Ilagamore, of Catshoge, Lei-
cestershire, on whose death, in January, 1776, it
was found that he had accumulated thirty gowns
and cassocks, one hundred pair of breeches, one
hundred |)air of boots, four hundred pairs of shoes,
eighty wigs, yet always wore his own hair, fifty-
eight dogs, eighty wagons and carls, eighty plows,
and used none, fifty saddles, and furniture fur the
menage, thirty wheelbarrows, sixty horses and
mares, seventy-four ladders, two hundred pick-
axes, two hundred speides and shovels, two hun-

dred and forty-nine razors, and so many walking-
sticks, that a toysman in Leicesterfields, ollered
eight pounds sterling to procure them.* Every
one will at once perceive that this man, although
he had the title of " Reverend " atli.ved to his
name, must have been nothing else but a Reve-
rend/«o/, or something approaching to a maniac;
for, to accumulate such a number of useful arti-
cles, merely for the purpose of looking at them,
or brooding over the idea that they were in one's
possession, without any higher object in view, is
surely the chai-acteristic of folly and irrationality,
if anything ought to designate a person a fool or
a madman.

Now, let us suppose for a moment, instead of
money, a man were to hoard in a garret or a ware-
house appropriated for the purpose — 10,000 pots
or caldrons that were never to bp used in cooking
victuals, or for any other process, — 15,000 tea-
kettles, 20,000 coffee-pots, 25,000 pairs of boots,
.•]0,000 knee-buckles, 32,000 great coats, and 40,-
000 pairs of trovvsers — suppose that none of these
articles were intended to be sold or appropriated
to such uses as they are generally intended to
serve, but merely to be gazed at from day to day,
or contemplated in the ideas of them that iloat
before the imagination — what should we think
of the man who spent his whole life, and concen-
trated all the energies of his soul in such roman-
tic pursuits and acquisitions? We should at once
decide, that he was unqualified for associating
with rational beings, and fit only for a place
witliin the precincts of bedlam. But what is
the great difference between accumulating twenty
thousand cork-screws, or thirty thousand shoe-
brushes, and hoarding as many thousands of shil-
lings, dollars or pieces of paper called banknotes,
which are never intended to be brought forth for
the benefit of mankind? The cases are almost
exactly parallel; and he who is considered as a
fool or maniac, in the one case, deserves to be
branded with the saine epithets, in the other.
Were a man to employ the greater part of his life
in laying up millions of cherry-stones or pin-
lieads, and find his chief delight in contemplating
his heaps, and continually adding to their number,
he would be considered as below the scale of a
rational being, and unfit for general society. But
there is no essential difference between such a fool,
and the man whose great and ultimate aim is to
accumulate thousands of dollars or of guineas.
Botli classes of persons are in reality maniacs —
with this difference, that the first class would be
considered as laboring under a serious mental de-
rancjement, and therefore objects of sympathy and
pity; while the other are considered as in the full
exercise of their intellectual powers, although
they are prostrating them in the ])ursuit of objects
as degrading and irrational, as those which en-
gross the imagination of the inmates of bedlam.

But, suppose that riches are coveted, not for
the purpose of being hoarded, but for the purpose
of being expended in selfish gratifications, there
is almost as much folly and irrationality in the
latter case as iti the former. Suppose a man to
have an income of £3000 a year, and that £800
are sufiicient to procure him all the sensitive

♦ This sinjjiilar ('lerjvman, when he died, was worth £700
per annum, and £10110 in money, whifh fell to .a ticket por-
ter in London. lie kept one servant of encli se.v, whom he
locked up every night. His last employment on an evea«
ing, was to go round his premises, 1st loose liis dogs, and fire
his pun. lie lost his lite as Iblloivs: going one morning to
let out his servants, the dogs fawned upon liim suddenly,
anil threw him into a pond, where he was found dead. Hit
servants heard his calls tor assistance, but, being locked up
Ihey could not lend him any hel]i.

32

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS

enjoyments suitable to his station — is it ralional, is
it usf/(//, cither to iiimself or others, that he sliouki
waste jK'2200 in vain or prolligate pursuits, in
balls, masquerades, gambUng, hounding, horse
racing, expensive attire, and splendid equipages —
when there are so many poor to be relieved, so
many ignorant to be instructed, so many improve-
ments requisitf! for the comfort of general society,
so many scieuci's to cultivate, so many ar(s to
patronize, and so many arduous exertions required
for promoting the general renovation of the world
—and scarcely a single guinea devoted to either
of these objects? Such coud\ict is no less irra-
tional and degrading, in a moral and accountrdile
agent, than that of the groveling wretch who
hoards his money in a bag which is never opened
but with jealous care wlien he has a few more
guineas or dollars to put into it. In both cases,
wealth is turned aside from its legitimate channel,
and perverted to purposes directly opposite to the
will of the Creator, and the true happiness of man-
kind.

3. The folly of Avarice will appear, if we con-
nder it in relation to rational enjoyment.

The rational enjoyment of life consists, among
other things, in tlie moderate use of the bounties
of Providence, wliich God has provided for all his
creatures — in the exercise of our phj-sical and
mental powers on those objects which are calcu-
lated to afford satisfaction and delight — in the
emotions of contentment and gratitude toward
our Creator — in the sweets of an approving con-
science— in the acquisition of knowledge — in the
flow of the benevolent affcL-tions, in atTectionate
social intercourse with our fellow men, in the ex-
ercise of tenderness, sympathy, and good will
toward others, and in that calmness or equanimity
which remains unruffled amidst the changes of
fortune, and the untoward incidents of human
life. Now, in none of these respects can the co-
vetous man experience the sweets of true enjoy-
ment. He has it in his power to enjoy all the
sensitive pleasures in which a rational being ought
to indulge, yet he stints himself even of necessary
comforts, and lives upon husks when he might
feast himself on the choicest dainties, because it
might prevent him from adding new stores to his
secret treasures. He will shiver amidst the colds
of winter, under a tattered coat, or a thread-baro
covering, and sit benumbed in his apartment
without a fire to cheer him, because the purchase
of requisite comforts would diminish the number
of his pounds, shillings, and pence. He will lie
on a bed of straw, during the dark evenings of
winter, like a mere animal existence, rather than
furnish oil for a lamp, and will wallow like a sow
amidst mire and tiltli, rather than give the small-
est trifle to a person to clean his apartment. Of
mental pleasures he can scarcely be said to enjoy
the smallest share, except in so far as the ideas of
accumulated gold and silver are concerned. He is
necessarily oppressed with restless anxiety. The ob-
jects of his covetousness are, in most instances, ne-
cessarily uncertain. He strives to obtain them, but
is doubtful of success; his mind hangs between
hope and fear; his desires ore. however, continu-
ally exerted; he is on the rack as it were, until
he sees the issue of his adventure, and in nume-
rous cases, his hopes are blasted, and his schemes
disconcerted; and when the plans of gain he had
laid are frustrated, or a portion of his wealth de-
stroyed by an unexpected accident, he feels all
the pains and agonies of a man verging toward
poverty and ruin. While a contented man may
become rich, to every desirable degree, amidst the
fill! possession j J serenity of mind, aryl self-appro-

bation, the anxiety of the covetous is necessarily
great and diilressiiif^; and that is one part of the
punishment he inevitably suffers under thi righte-
ous government of God, on account of his in
fringi-ment of the natural and moral laws of the
universe. To the misery of perpetual anxiety are
added incessant labor, and an en.iless and weari-
some train of exertion to augment his gains and
secure himself from losses. Like a slave or a
mill-horse, he drudges on in a state of travail, and
in an unceasing wliirl of toil and efTort, which
leave no intervals for ralional reHectio!i and enjoy-
ment; and, after all, his desires are still craving
and still unsatisfied.

In the midst of such labor and mental efforts
and perplexities, he meets vyith frequent disap-
pointments. His deeds or obligations are found
to be defective; his bills are refused to be dis-
counted; his agents prove cheats and deceivers;
storms will blow in spite of him, and sink his
ships in the mighty waters; floods and inunda-
tions will sweep away the produce of his fields;
his crops will fail; his cattle die; his debtors ab-
scond or become bankrupts, and the devouring
flames will seize upon his houses and barns :r
his shops and warehouses, and consume them >3
ashes. In all such cases, where a contented mind
will endeavor to submit with calmness to the
allotments of Providence, the mind of the cove-
tous impugns the rectitude of the Divine dispen-
sation; and heaves with, unutterable throes of
agony and despair. In the language of inspira-
tion "he is pierced through," or, compassed on
every side " unth many sorrows,^' and the iuward
language of his heart is — and it is a\vful^y appro-
priate, " Ye have taken away ray gods; and what
have I more?" Amidst such misfortunes and
mental pangs, he is frequently left without friends,
without pity, qr sympathy, or commiseration—
poijitcd at with the finger of scorn, stung by the
keen sarcasms of his neighbors, and considered
as a fit mark for the shafts of contempt and deri-
sion, while the lashes of his own conscience add a
keenness to his anguish. It is almost needless to
add, ihat he derives no enjoyment from the exer-
cise of kindness and benignity, from tlie pursuits
of knowledge, the contemplation of nature, the
affectionate association of his fellow-men, or the
satisfaction which arises from deeds of benefi-
cence, for his degrading pursuits leave him neither
li'isure nor relish for such refined gratifications.
Who, then, that has any regard to rational enjoy-
ment, would desire the state of mind, and the
condition of such a wretched mortal, even al-
though his bags were full of gold, and his barns
filled with plenty!

Nor are the enjoyments much superior, of the
man who covets riches merely for the purpose of
living in splendor and fashionable dissipation. To
a rational mind conscious of its dignity, and of
the noble powers vi'ith which it is furnished, how
poor a gratification would it receive from all the
pleasures and gewgaws that fascinate the worldly
minded and the gay? Are the pleasures derived
from rich viands, delicious wines, costly apparel,
stately mansions, splendid equipages, fashionable
parties and diversions, an enjoyment adequate to
the sublime faculties, and the boundless desires of
an immortal mind? How many of those who
make such pleasures the grand object of their
pursuit, are found the slaves of the most abject
passions, with hearts overflowing with pride, rank-
ling with envy, fired with resentment at every
trivial affront, revengeful of injuries, and hurried
along, by the lust of ambition, into every folly
and extravagance ? Where such passions an

ABSURDITY AND IRRATIONALITY Of COVETOUSNESS.

33

eontiuually operating, along with all their kindred
emotions, and where benevolence is seldom exer-
cistMJ, it is impossible tiiat true happiness can ever
be enjoyed. And hence, we find, among persons
of this description, more instances of suicide, and
more numerous examples of family feuds, conten-
tions, ai.d ee;»arations, than among any other class
of general society, t^o that there is no reason to
desire tho enjoyments of covetousness in what-
ever channel it may run, or whatever shape it
may assume.

4. The felly and irrationality of Covetousness
appears, wlieu we consider the immortal destination
of man.

There are thoMstvnds of misers and other world-
lings who are governed by the lust of ambition
and covetousneas, who admit the doctrine of a fu-
ture state of punishmsiits and rewards. Indepen-
dently of those arguments which may be drawn
from the nature of the human soul, its desires of
knowledge and capacious intellectual powers, the
unlimiteil range of view which is opened to these
faculties, throughout the immensity of space and
duration, the moral attributes of God, the unequal
distribution of rewards and punishments in the
present state, and other-considerations, — there is
a premonition and a powerful impression in al-
most every human mind, that the range of its ex-
istence is not confined to the present life, but that
a world of bliss or woe awaits it beyond the grave.
And, as vast multitudes of worldly and avaricious
characters are to be found connected with the vis-
ible church, or frequenting its services; by this
very circumstance, they formally admit, that there
is another scene of existence into which they en-
ter at the hour of dissolution.

Now, how irrational and inconsistent is it for a
man to admit, that there is a world beyond the
present which is to be the scene of his everlasting
abode, and yet continue to have his whole thoughts
and affections absorbed in pursuing the riches and
transitont' gratifications of the present life, v/ith-
out casting a serious glance on the realities of the
invisible state, or preparing to meet them? If we
had just views of all the momentous realities,
and the scenes of glorj', and of terror, connected
with the idea of an eternal world, and could con-
trast them with the vain and fleeting enjoyments
of this mortal scene, we should perceive a follij
and even a species of madness in such conduct,
more astonishing than what is seen in any other
course of action pursued by human beings. If a
man hai" 'n estate in a distant country, on the
proceeds of which a considerable portion of his
income depends, he will not forget that he has an
interest in that country; he will correspond with
it, and will be anxious to learn inttlligence re-
specting its affairs from periodical journals and
other sources of information. If a person, on the
expiration of ten years, has the prospect of entering
on the possession of a rich inheritance, he will
look forward to it, with longing expectations, and
will employ his thoughts in making arrangements
for enjoving it, though perhaps he may not live to
take pos>;ession. Nay, we siiall find many indi-
viduals spending weeks and months in melancholy
and chagrin for the loss of a few guineas or dol-
lars, and, at other times, deriving their chief plea-
sure from the prospect of a paltry gain. Yet
strange to tell, many such persons remain alto-
gether insf>nsil)le to the joys and sorrows of a fu-
ture world, and never make the least arrangement
In reference to that state; although there is an
absolute certainty that it awaits them, and that it
is possible they may be'ushered into it before to-
morrow's dawn. Can any species of folly with

which men are chargeable, be compared with such
apathy and indifference about everlasting things,
when such things are admitted to have a real ex-
istence?

It is a dictate of wisdom, and even of common
sense, that when a person has a pros]>ect of occu-
pying an)" office or condition in life, he ought to
engage in that course of preparation which
will qualify him for performing its duties and en-
joying its comforts. But what preparation does
tlie covetous man make for enabling him to relish
the enjoyments, and to engage in the exercises of
the eternal world? Will heaping up silver as the
dust, an'd filling his bags with sovereigns and dol-
lars, and concentrating his thoughts and affections
on such objects, prepare him for the sublime con-
templations of the spirits of just men made per-
fect, and the hallelujahs of the heavenly host?
Will his hard griping disposition, which never
permitted him to drop the tear of sympathy, or
to relieve the widow and the orphan, render him
meet for associating with the inhabitants of that
world, where love and the purest affections. In all
their varied ramifications, forever prevail? Will
his anxious desires and his incessant toils irom
morning to night, to add to the number of liis
guineas, and the extent of his property, qualify
liini for surveying the wonderful works of God,
and contemplating the glory of Him "who was
slain and hath redeemed us to God by his blood?"
Can any man, who has the least sjiark of ration-
ality within him, imagine that such conduct and
such dispositions, are at. all compatible with pre-
paration for the felicities of the heavenly state?
Or, does the poor degraded miser really believe
that heaven is filled with bags of gold and silver,
and that there is no employment there but " buy-
ing and selling, and getting gain?" If the man-
sions of heaven, and the exercises of its inhabit-
ants, be such as the Scriptures delineate, then,
there is an utter incompatibility between the em-
ployments of the celestial state, and the train of
action, and the temper of mind, of the covetous
man, which renders him altogether unqualified
for its enjoyments. And, if he be unprepared for
the joys and the services of the heavenly state, he
cannot, in consistency with the constitution of the
moral world, be admitted into its mansions, but
must necessarily sink into " the blackness of dark-
ness forever."

Nor are the pursuits of the worldling, who
spends his wealth in vanity and luxury, more
compatible with the joys of the celestial world.
This will appear, if we consider some of the in-
gredients which enter into the essence of heavenly
felicity. From the representations of this state
given in the Scriptures, we learn, that it is a state
of perfect purity and holiness; that the minds of
its inhabitants are irradiated with divine know-
ledge, and adorned with every divine virtue; that
love pervades and unites the hearts of the whole
of that vast assembly; that humility is one of their
distinguishing characteristics; that they are for-
ever engaged in beneficent services; that the con-
templation of the works and ways of God forms
a part of their employment; and that they are
unceasingly engaged in sublim.e adorations of the
Creator of the universe, in contemplating the
glory and celebrating the praises of Ilim " who
hath loved us, and washed us from our sins in his
own blood." But what resemblance is tliere be-
tween such a state and such emploj'ments, and
the pursuits of the gay worldling whose heart is
set upon his riches as the chief object of his
affections? Would the man who spends his wealth
in hounding, horse-racing, cock-fighting, and g>un-

34

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS

bling, find any similar entertainments for his
amusemeut in the upper world? Would the proud
and ambitious, who look down on the vulgar
throng as if they were the worms of the dust,
and who value themselves on account of tiieir
Stately mansions and glittering equipage, find any
enjoyment in a world where humility is the dis-
tinguishing disposition of all its inhabitants?
Would the warrior, who delights in carnage and
devastation, expect to have cities to storm, towns
to pillage, or armies to maneuver, or would he
think of rehearsing in " the assembly of the just,"
the deeds of violence and slaughter which he per-
petrated upon earth? Would the fine lady who
etruts in all the gayety and splendor of dress, who
spends half her time at her toilette, and in fashion-
able visits, whose chief delight consists in rattling
dice and shutfling cards, in attending balls, mas-
querades, and plays; who never devotes a single
sovereign to beneficent purposes, or to the propa-
gation of religion; whose life is one continued
round of frivolity and dissipation; would such a
character meet with any similar entertainments
in the society of the angelic hosts, and of the
spirits of just men made perfect? In short, can
it be supposed, in consistency with reason, that
such dispositions and pursuits have a tendency to
produce a relish for the enjoyments of the celestial
world, and to prepare the soul for joining, with
delight) in the exercises of its inhabitants? If

not, then such characters wou d find no enjoy-
ment, although they were admitted tvithin the
gates of paradise; but, like the gloomy owl, which
shuns the light of day, and the society of the
feathered tribes, they would flee from the society
and the abodes of the blessed, to other retreats,
and to more congenial companions.

Thus it appears, that covetousness, wl\ateveT
form it may assume, is utterly inconsistent with
any rational or scriptural ideas we can eutertaiu
in relation to man's eternal destiny. Ho is a poor,
pitiable fool who makes the slightest pretenses to
religion, while his lieart is the seat of avaricious
desires, or who makes riches, gay apparel, foolish
amusements, and the gratification of pride and
vanity, the chief object of his pursuit. He sub-
jects liimself to unnecessary distress by the com-
punctions of conscience, which the denunciations
of religion must occasionally produce; and, if he
has any measure of common sense, he must
plainly perceive, that any hopes of happiness he
may indulge in relation to a future state, are
founded on " the baseless fabric of a vision." The
only consistent plan, therefore, which ho can
adopt — if he is determined to prosecute his ava-
ricious courses — is, to endeavor to prove religion
a fable, to abandon himself to downright skepti-
cism, to scout the idea of a Supreme Governor of
the universe, and to try, if he can, to live "witl^
out God, and without hope in the world."

CHAPTER III

ON THE INCONSISTENCY OF COVETOUSNESS WITH THE WORD OF GOD-

There is no vicious propensity of the human
heart more frequently alluded to, and more
severely denounced in the scriptures of truth,
than the sin of covetousness. For it strikes at
the root of all true religion, saps the foundations
of piety and benevolence, and is accompanied
with innumerable vices and evil propensities,
which rob God of his honor and glory, and
"drown men in destruction" and perdition." It
would be too tedious to enter into all the views
which the word of God exhibits of the nature and
tendencies of this sin, of the threatenings which
are denounced against it, and of its utter incon-
sistency with the benevolent spirit of the religion
of Jesus; and therefore, I shall select for illustra-
tion, only two or three promaient particulars.

In the first place, this propensity is branded in
Scripture with the name of Idolatry. " Let not
covetousness," says Paul to the Ephesians, " be
once named among you, as becometh saints. For
this ye know, that no covetous man, xcho is an
idolater, hath any inheritance in the kingdom of
Christ and of God." And, in his Epistle to the
Colossians, he enumerates, among the vices which
bring down the wrath of God upon the children
of disobedience, " covetousness lohich is idolatry.^''*

Idolatry is one of the greatest crimes of which
a rational being can be guilty; for it is that which
IS the source of all the ignorance, superstition,
cruelties, immoralities, and obscene abominations
of the heathen world. It is to idolatry we are to

* Ephes. f . 3, 5. Colos. iii. 5.

ascribe the burning of widows in Hindostan, the
cruel rites of Juggernaut, the exposing of the sick
and dying on the banks of the Ganges, the mur-
der of infants, the infernal sacrifices of the Mexi-
cans, the making of children pass through the
fire to Moloch, the human butcheries which are
perpetrated in almost every pagan land to appease
imaginary deities, the abominations of the ancient
Canaanites, the murders and obscenities of the
South Sea Islanders, the degradation of intellect
which is found in every heathen country, and the
innumerable vices and moral pollutions of all
descriptions which abound among the tribes and
nations that are ignorant of the living and true
God. So that idolatry may be considered as •
comprehensive swmmary of every species of ma-
lignity, impiety, and wickedness.

It was for this reason that the children of
Israel were separated from the nations around,
and so strictly interdicted from the least inter-
course or communion with idolaters. So "jeal-
ous " was the God of Israel in reference to ido»
latry, that the least approach to such worship,
either in word or action, or even in imagination,
was pointedly forbidden: — "In all things that I
have said unto you be circumspect; make no men-
tion of the NAME of other gods, neither let it be
heard out of thy mouth. Thou shalt not bow down
to their gods nor sei-ve them, nor do after their
works, but thou shalt utterly "-verthrow them and
quite break down their images, ye shall destroy
their altars and cut down their groves. Neither
shalt thou make marriages with them; for they
will turn away thy sou from following me, and

INCONSISTENCY OF COVETOUSNESS WITH THE WORD OF GOD.

35

the anger of the Lord will be kindled and destroy
thee suddenly." *

If idolatry had not been strictly forbidden and
undermined, tiie knowledge and the worship of
the true God would never have been established
in the earth. In accordance with these injunc-
tions, the first and fundamental precept of the
moral law was given, which has a reference not
only to the Jews, but to all the inhahitant.s of the
world, "Ihou shait have iw other gods before ?«e;"
and the second, which forbids anj' visitile repre-
sentations of Deitj', has this strong and impressive
sanction, " for I, the Lord thy God, am a jealous
God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the
children unto the third and fourth generation of
them that hate me." For this reason, likewise,
the nations of Canaan were devoted to utter de-
struction. For they not only worshiped a multi-
tude of strange gods, but offered human victims
on their altars, and sacriliced even their sons and
daughters to devils; and such practices led to
adultery, incest, sodomy, bestiality, and other
kindred crimes, by which these nations were
distinguished; so that, by these abominations,
tliey rendered themselves unworthy of a place
within the precincts of terrestrial existence; they
were blotted out as a stain upon the creation of
God; and their doom was intended as an awful
warning to the Israelites, of the evil and danger
of turning aside from the true God to idolatry.
Hence the curses and denunciations that were
threatened against the least tendency of the heart
to idol-worship. " Cursed be the man that rnaketli
any graven or molten image, an abomination to
the Lord, the work of the hands of the craftsman,
and putteth it in a secret place." " Every one of
tlie house of Israel, or of the stranger that so-
journeth in Israel, who separateth himself from
me, and setteth up his idols in his heart, and
Cometh to a propliet to inquire of him concern-
ing me, I the Lord, will answer him by myself,
and I will set my face against that man, and will
make him a sign and a proverb, and / will cut him
off from the midst of my people, and ye shall know
tliat I am Jehovah." + Hence \\\e punishment of
death which was uniformly denounced and inflict-
ed upon the idolater. " If there be found among
you man or woman that hath gone and served
other gods and worshiped them, eitlicr the sun or
moon, or any of the host of heaven; then shalt
thou bring forth that man or that woman, who
have committed that wicked thing, unto thy gates,
and shalt stone them with stones until they die." J
Such denunciations may be seen running through
the whole of the jirophetical writings in reference
to Israel; and almost every judgment of God,
either threatened or inflicted, is ascribed to the
abounding- of iJolatry. and the sins connected
with it, as its procuring cause.

These circumstances, therefore, may be con-
•idered as stam[)ing upon idolatry a higher degree
of opprobrium and malignity than upon any other
crime; and consequently, as representing the ido-
later as the most depraved and degraded of hu-
man beings. We are, therefore, apt to recoil from
such a character, as one who labors under a pecu-
liar mental and mora! derangement, in virtually
denying the first principle of human reason, and
" the God that is above " — as one whom we would
almost shudder to receive into our company, and
woukl thiuL- snworthy to enjoy the common
«ympa.h:<!S of human creatures. But, wherein
fies the great difference between " the covetous

• Exj(]. xxiii. la 24, &c. Deut. vii. 3, &c.

t De It. xxvii. 15. Ezek. xiv. 7, 8. t Heut. xvii. 2, 5.

man who is an idolater," and him who falls down
to Moloch or Juggcrnant, or worships the sun,
and moon, and the host of heaven? There is the
same mental derangement, the same malignity of
affection, and the same dethronement of God from
the heart, in the former case as in the latter,
though they are manifested by ditFerent modes of
operation. Let us consider, for a little, the re-
semblance between these two modes of idolatry.

Covetousness may be considered in two points
of view: as consisting either in the inordinate love
of money on its own account, or in the love of
those sensitive gratifications which it procures;
and in both these respects it may be shown to
partake directly of the nature of idolatry. In
what does the essence of idolatry consist, but in
the estrangement of the heart from God, and set-
ting up, in comjietition with him, any other ob-
ject, as the supreme object of our affections and
the ultimate end of all our pursuits? Wliile the
pious soul joins in unison with the Psalmist, and
says, "whom have I in heaven but thee, 0 Lord,
and there is none on earth that I desire beside
thee;" the covetous man says of his gold, " thou
art my hope, and to the fine gold, thou art my
confidence. I rejoice, because my wealth is great
and my hands have gotten me much." And such
mental idolatry is no less irrational and hateful
in the sight o"f the Most High, than that of the
blinded pagan who prostrates himself before a
block of wood or the figure of a crocodile.

Pagan idolatry consists either in worshiping
the sun, moon, or stars, or in paying homage to
a statue of gold or silver, brass or stone. Mental
idolatiy consists in paying a similar homage to
gold and silver, either abstractly considered, or
to those sensual objects and pleasures -which they
are the means of procuring. The idolater bows
down before the shrine of a splendid image; perhaps
one formed of the richest materials, such as the
golden image set up by Nebuchadnezzar, in the
plain of Dura, which was ninety feet high, and
contained a thousand Babylonish talents of gold,
or about four millions of British money. To this
splendid image he pays his homage in the midst
of assembled multitudes, and at the sound of the
cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltry, dulcimer,
and all kinds of music. The glittering pomp and
splendor of such a scene fascinates his affections
and overpowers his reason, so that he may be led
for a moment to imagine that it is a fit represen-
tation of the unknown God. But the covetous
idolater worships an image, or an imaginary idea,
still more degrading. He adores, or, in other
words, he concentrates his affections upon a circu-
lar piece of gold which he can carry in his pocket,
or a thousand such pieces tied up in a bag, or
locked in his coffers. On such objects his mind
incessantly broods, even when they are not pre-
sent to his senses; and when he is deprived of
them by any accident, he is overwhelmed with
anguish, and exclaims in despair, "my gods are
taken away, and what have I more?" There
can be no essential difference between gold and
silver shaped into statuary, adorned with sjilendid
trappings, and set up for the worship of Pagan
nations, and the same metals shaped into the form
of guineas, crowns, and dollars, to which a similar
homage is paid by the inhabitants of an enlighten-
ed land. The forms of the idol and the mn<le.s of
adoration are somewhat different; but the idolatry,
in all its main points and bearings, is substantially
the same. Which of these species of idolatry,
then, is most irrational and debasing' There can
be no apology whatever made for idol-worship, in
any shape or under any circumstances. But, is

36

ESSAY ON COVETQUSNESS

the case of the Pagan idolater, there may be cer-
tain extenuating circumstances. Tlie ignorance
and superslilion in which he has been trained
from early life, tiio opinions of his relatives and
of society around him, the strong prejudices and
the nuMierous associations connected with the re-
ligion of his country, the importance he has been
taught to attach to his superstitious rites, and the
apparent splendor of the idol he adores, and of the
ceremonies connected with its worship, might
lead us to commiserate, while we cannot but con-
demn, the idolatrous heathen. We might almost
cease to wonder that a rude savage should mis-
take the glorious sun in the firmament for his
Almighty Maker, and the silver moon and the
radiant stars for the ministers of his kingdom.
When we consider the splendors they exhibit, the
light they ditVuse, and the general utility of their
intlueijce on terrestrial objects, we can scarcely
be surprised that fallen reason should have mis-
taken them for their Divine Original. But what
sympathy can we feel, or what apology can we
make for those who are trained in a civilized and
Christian country, who are freed from Pagan pre-
judices, who have the free use of their reasoning
powers, and who have been instructed in the
existence and attributes of an Almighty and Eter-
nal Being, and yet practice an idolatry even
more degrading than that of the Lama of Thibet,
or of the most untutored savage? "Be astonish-
ed, 0 ye heavens, at this, and be ye horribly afraid 1
For my people (saith God) have forsaken the
fountain of living waters, — hewn out to them-
selves broken and empty cisterns, and have gloried
in their shame."

The other species of covetousness — namely,
that which consists in gratifying the lust of the
flesh and the pride of life, while God is banished
from the heart, partakes no less of the nature of
idolatry, than that which consists in the love of
money, abstractly considered. He who is inces-
santly engaged in the pursuit of money for the
fiurpose of increasing the extent of his property,
iving in luxury and splendor, dashing along in
his chariot, holding intercourse with the higher
ranks of society, spending his time in fashiona-
ble diversions, or in laying up a fortune for his
descendants, to render them independent, while
he has no higher ends or aims, is as much an idol-
ater as the votary of Bacchus, or the worshiper
of Baal. For, if such pursuits be considered as
the great ends of our existence; if they occupy
the greatest share of our thoughts and affections;
if our chief happiness is placed on the enjoyments
they afford; if everj-thing else is estimated only
in so far as it contributes to such ends, and " if we
trust in the abundance of our riches, and make
not God our confidence," we frustrate the great
ends for which we were brought into existence,
and are guilty of everything that enters into the
essence of idolatry. The first duty of every ra-
tional creature is to love God supreviehj and af-
fectionately, to render him the highest liomage of
our hearts, and to serve him throughout every pe-
riod of our existence, in preference to every other
object or being. In this manner we testify that
he is Divinely Great and Excellent, worthy of our
highest reverence and regard, and that we are
under obligations to Him for every enjoyment we
possess. Angels, and the holy inhabitants of all
worlus, are obedient to his laws, and make his
glory the great end of all their actions. They
bow in cordial submission to his allotments,
"they do his pleasure and hearken to the voice
of his word," and he is the supreme object of
their affection and adoration. But, when we per-

mit any other object to occupy our supreme re-
gard, affection or esteem, wc virtually dethrone
Jehovah from our hearts, and banish him from hie
own universe. " If we make gold our hope, and
fine gold our confidence," if the favor of the
great, the honor that conieth from men, the vain
pageantry of life, the richness of our dress, the
elegance of our furniture, the independence of
our fortune, and the greatness of the inheritance
we provide for our children, are the objects that
stand highest in our affections; these are the goda
at wh'>se shrine we worship, and wliose attributes
we au ire. In so doing, we are guilty of the
grossest falsehood; for we practically deny that
Jehovali is possessed of those attributes, which
demauu the highest tribute of homage and affec-
tion from his intelligent offspring. We are guilty
of injustice; for we violate the rightful claim of
the Deity to the obedience of rational agents, and
render to creatures the service and reg*Pd which
is duetto Him alone. We are guilty of the basest
ingratitude; for, to his Power and Wisdom we
owe our very existence, and to his boundless Be-
nevolence, all the rich variety of comforts we en-
joy. In short, by such conduct, we give evi-
dence that pride, rebellion, selfishness, hatred of
moral excellence, and all their kindred emotions
rankle in our breasts, and sway their scepter over
all our moral faculties. ,

This sin is not only peculiarly malignant in it-
self, but lies at the foundation of every other species
of impiety and wickedness. The commencement
of moral turpitude in any intelligent being, wher-
ever existing throughout creation, is found in the
alienation of the heart from God, and the prefer-
ence of any other object to the Eternal Jehovah.
Hence the fall of Lucifer, and the malignity of
his designs, and the dismal effects which have fol-
lowed in the moral order of our terrestrial system;
and hence the anxiety which this arch enemy of
the moral universe displayed in order to tempt the
Saviour of the world to covetousness, ambition, and
distrust in the care of Divine Providence. In
proportion as this spirit prevails, will wickedness
of every kind reign triumphant. Wherever God
is acknowledged, and loved, and adored, all divine
virtues flourish and shed their benign influence-
But wherever the affections are alienated from the
original source of felicity, every heavenly virtue
declines and dies, and its place is usurped by everj
species of moral abomination.

Hence the monstrous iniquities and cruelties,
flowing from their religion, which have distin-
guished every nation of the heathen world. As
they had gods of all descriptions and characters;
as almost every being, real or imaginary, was in-
cluded in the list of deities; as every degree of
stupidity, folly, impurity, revenge, and other spe-
cies of moral turpitude, was attributed to such
beings, — so the moral conduct of their votaries
corresponded with the character of the idols at
whose shrines they paid their adorations. Hence
the unnatural cruelties connected with their wor-
ship; the various species of torture enjoined for
obtaining remission of sins; the thousands of hu-
man victims which have bled and are still sacri-
ficed on their altars; the murder of female infants
as soon as they breathe the vital air; the burning
of widows on the bodies of their deceased hus-
bands; the crushing to death of the worshipers of
Juggernaut, and the want of humanity and na-
tural affection which forms a striking chnractei-
istic of the rites of Paganism. Hence the spirit
of daring falsehood displayed in their lying ora-
cles and modes of divination, their pretended
cures of diseases, their selection of human tic

INCONSISTENCY OF COVETOUSNESS WITH THE WORD OF GOD.

37

tims, (heir representations of the future world,
Uieir fallacious predictious, dreams, and visions,
which pen'ude the whole of their mysteries and
systems of mythology. Hence the obscene pol-
lutions and abominations incorporated wilh the
ceremonies of idolatry, by which both matrons
and virgins, with the most revolting rites, are con-
secrated in an idol-temple, to a life of impurity
and prostitution; and hence the wars of revenge
and devastation, with all the enormities, immorali-
ties, and revolting atrocities, which have followed
in their train.

Now, the idolatry of covetousness, as having
tts origin in the same alienation from God, and the
same dcj)ravity of the affections, is the source of
eimilar evils and immoralities, wherever its influ-
ence extends, as appears from certain facts and
illustrations already stated, and which I shall
more parlin.ularly elucidate under another depart-
ment of this subject. When the objects on which
the mind is hxed, are low, debased, and impure;
and when they are connected with pride, false-
hood, ingratitude, inhumanity and injustice, being
destitute of higher conceptions and nobler alms,
it conforms all its views and affections to the cha-
racter of such objects, and, therefore, nothing can
flow forth in the conduct but what is immoral and
impure. God is the sun of the human soul, and
of every intelligent being. Wherever he displays
his radiance, there is moral day, spiritual life, and
holy energy; and, under his quickening beams,
eviery divine virtue springs up with vigor and
beauty. But, where the light of this divine Lu-
minary is excluded, and the eyes of the under-
standing shut to its glorious excellencies, dark-
ness and desolation ensue; a moral winter chills
every faculty, and the genuine fruits of right-
eousuess can never appear. And hence the world
has become little else than a suburb of Pandemo-
nium, the greater part of its inhabitants " being
filled with all unrighteousness, fornication, wick-
edness, maliciousness, envy, deceit, and maligni-
ty;" and bnaring the character of " backbiters,
haters of God, proud, boasters, covenant-breakers.
Inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents,
without natural affection, implacable, and unmer-
ciful. Who knowing the judgment of God, that
they who do such things are worthy of death, not
only do the same, but have pleasure in them that
do them."

Again, Covetousness bears another resemblance to
idolatry, in that it is essentially connected miiJi
Atheism.

Idolatry, strictly speaking, is not atheism; for
it recognizes the existence of superior beings as
the objects of adoration. But, although in the-
ory, there appears a shade of difference, it is sub-
stantially the same, as to all its practical results.
For, in banishing the idea of the true God from
the understanding and the affections, it virtually
deposes the Divinity from the universe; and all
the immoralities and enormities which would
flow from atheism, were its influence universal,
result from heathen idolatry, wherever it abounds.
The same thing may be said of covetousness: it
js virtually, and to all intents and purposes, a spe-
cies of atheism. For, if atheism throws off all
confidence in God, and trust in his Providence, so
does covetousness in all its multifarious transac-
tions- Look at the man whose highest object is
to make a fortune, and to fill his coffers with gold.
Ho devotes his time, his affections, the powers of
His understanding, and his acquired knowledge
and experience, with a steady and persevering aim
to secure this ultimate end. He sifs all day long
ia his shop or counting-house, poring over his

ledgers, examining his bills and securities with
unremitting attention; devising plans of profit,
selecting every mean that ingenuity can suggest,
and seizing on every opportunity, however deceit-
ful the means employed, for driving a profitable
bargain, and increasing his store. No hopes
transport him but the prospect of gain, and no
fears torment him but the risk of loss, except,
perhaps, the chance of accidents or the fear of
death. When he has placed his treasures in pro-
per security, whether in his bags or coflers, in the
bank or the stocks, in title deeds or books of re-
gistration, he feels himself as independent upon
God, and the movements of his Providence, as if
a Supreme Moral Governor had no existence —
Without such securities, he feels no more depen-
dence on an Invisible Power, than the confirmed
and avowed atheist. I appeal to every one who
knows the world, and to the consciences of mul-
titudes, if there are not thousands of characters
of this description in the church, the state, and
every department of the commercial world. And
what is the great difference between such disposi-
tions and conduct, and downright atheism? Sup-
pose the idea of a Deity to be a mere chimera,
and the notion of his existence forever banished
from their thoughts, would their conduct be much
altered, or would it be altered in the least? except
perhaps that they would deem it unnecessary, in
compliance with custom, to attend the external
forms of worship. Would they be more griping,
deceitful or penurious, more eager and persever-
ing to lay up treasures on earth, and to add house
to house and field to field, or trust more confi-
dently in their riches, or feel more independent
of a Supreme Being, than they do at present? It
cannot be supposed; for they have already carried
these propensities and practices to the highest
pitch, which their ingenuity and energies would
permit; and, therefore, the existence or non-
existence of the Deity may be considered in rela-
tion to such characters, as a matter of mere in-
difference. Their wealth stands to them in the
place of God, on which they depend, and to which
they look as the fountain of their enjoyments,
and the foundation of all their future prospects,
both for themselves and their descendants. Even
although the whole course of nature were de-
ranged, the earth turned into a dry and parched
desert, " the windows of heaven " never o[iened
to pour down fruitfulness upon the earth, and,
consequently, money cease to be of any utility
for procuring the means of enjoyment; still, such
are the associations connected with this irrational
propensity, that they would cling to gold and sil-
ver, and houses and landed property as their dar-
ling object, " their high tower and rock of de-
fense."

The same things may be affirmed in regard to
those who covet money for the sole purpose of
self-gratification, and indulging in luxury and
sensual enjoyments. They drink of the streams,
but forget tlie fountain. They store up from the
rich abundance of nature, whatever treasures
they can collect for contributing to their splendor
and giving a relish to the pleasures of their senses;
but they forget the benevolent operations of Him
" who giveth rain from heaven and fruitful sea-
sons, and filleth the hearts of men with food and
gladness." They buoy themselves up with the
idea that their oum wealth and povrer and influ-
ence have procured them these enjoyments, while
they regard not the Hand and Power of that Al-
mighty Being who superintends the minutest
agencies of the material system, and who " giveth
to all, life and breath and all things." "^^"-^

Thev

38

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS

enjoy the comforts of splendid mansions, and
delightful gardens; tliey relish the juice of the
strawberry, the. peach, anil the nectarine, and
regale themselves with llie fruit of the vine; but
to Him " who givetli tliem all things richly to
ftcjoy," and to the iutimatious of his wiU, they pay
no more regard than they do to a breath of wind,
or to what is going on in the upper regions of the
Btmospiiere. Now, what would be the ditTerence,
in the feelings and practice of such persons,
although it could be proved to a demonstration
that a Supreme and Eternal Mind had no exis-
tence? Although the world had sprung from a
fortuitous concourse of atoms, and were going
forward tiirough intermiuablc changes witiiout the
direction and control of an all-pervading Spirit,
and although every individual were to consider
himself as a part of an independent system of
material existence nnconnected with mind or
moral error, would there be less of true adoration
or gratitude to an invisible Creator, or less reliance
on a superintending Providence, in the case of
such, than there is at present? Would the hun-
ter after places and pensions be more keen in his
aspirations after posts of opulence and honor?
Would the gambler be more eager in prosecuting
his demoralizing pursuits? Would the pride of
rank and dress and equipage be carried to a higher
pitch than it now is ? Would the votary of
fashionable dissipation pursue liis giddy course
with more rapidity and vehement desire? Would
there be more horse-racing, cock-fighting, hound-
ing, balls, masquerades, and other frivolous and
vicious diversions, or less money bestowed by
those who are absorbed in such entertainments
for the relief of the widow and the orphan, for
the propagation of religion, and for the general
improvement of mankind? We have no reason
to believe that any essential difference would be
perceptible in the general pursuits of the world-
lings to whom I allude. For, as it is evident,
from their governing disposition, and the general
train of their conduct, that " God is not in all
their thoughts," tl.at •• they live without God in
the world," and that many of them have already
" run to the utmost excess of riot," and licentions-
ntss — so we have no valid reason to conclude,
that any considerable change would take place,
although they acted on the full belief, that the
visible world, and its several elementary parts are
all that we have to do with, and all tiiat exists in
the universe.

In the train of thought and action of such indi-
viduals, there is a certain resemblance to the athe-
ism (if I may so express it) of the inferior animals.
" Tlie hart panteth after the brooks of water, and
quenches its thirst at the flowing stream; the ox
browses on the grass, and lies down and rumi-
nates, until he is satisfied; the lion roars after his
prey; the goats clamber among the high hills and
rocks; the wild deer gambol through the lawn and
forests, and the fowls of heaven wing their flight
through the air, and rejoice to perch and 'sing
among the branches.'"

In such gratifications and exercises, every senti-
ent being finds its peculiar enjoyment, and looks
no higher when its wants are sup))lied and senses
gratified. Tiie worldling, too, finds enjoyment in
the exercise of his physical powers, and in the
rich and diversified bounties of nature; and the
keenness with which he rushes forward to partici-
pate of his viands, his delicious wines and other
sensual pleasures, bears a certain resemblance to
that of the inferior tribes wlien they rush to their
peculiar food or beverage, and satiate the'r de-
sires. But, in both cases, the physical ma trials

of the enjoyment, or the pleasures arising from
the adaptation of the senses to the objects of ex
ternal nature, are all that they recognize; while
the Great Author of their enjoyments is unheeded
and unacknowledged. In the one case, it is
owing to the want of faculties cai)able of appre-
ciating the existence and character of a Supreme
Benefactor; in the other, to the perversion of
rational powers adequate for tracing every com-
fort to its original source. The one, from the
original constitution of its nature, is, so far as we
know, incapable of perceiving or acknowledging
God; the other "does not like to retain God in
his knowledge." He might raise his thoughts to
his Almighty Benefactor, if he chose, and ac-
knowledge his bounty; but he chooses to shut his
eyes to the evidences of his unceasing agency
and beneficence, and to harden his heart against
him. Though he has been endowed with more
knowledge than the beasts of the field, and made
wiser than the fowls of heaven, yet his superior
powers have carried him no nearer to the foun
tain of happiness, than the instinct of the brutes*
In short, his atheism is nearly as complete as
theirs — with this difference, that while they fulfill
their destination and act up to the constitution of
their natures, he degrades the moral and intellec-
tual faculties with which he is invested, by ren-
dering them instrumental for promoting sensuality
and alienating his heart from God. What a pitiful
picture does this representation present of the
great majority of our species, and of many even
of those who profess the religion of Jesus, and
who display a fiery zeal in defense of the Christian
church! Alas! that man who is made only a
little lower than the angels, and is allied by his
intellectual nature with the highest orders of
created beings, should thus pervert and prostrate
his noble powers, in attempting to banish the
Creator from his own universe, and to deprive
hi!n of that gratitude and adoration which are
due from all his rational offspring! Such, how-
ever, is the atheism of covetousness; and that the
conclusions we have deduced are not groundless,
appears from the following passage of an inspired
writer: " If I have made gold my hope, or have
said to the fine gold ' Thou art my confidence:' if
I rejoiced because my wealth was great, and be-
cause mine hand had gotten much, — if I beheld
the sun when it shined, or the moon walking in
brightness; and my heart hath been secretly en-
ticed, or my mouth hath kissed my hand; this
were an iniquity to be punished by the Judge;
for I should have denied the God that is above."

This subject deserves the serious consideration
of every professing Christian. Many who are
members of the visible church, and regularly
attend the dispensation of its ordinances, because
tbey do not run to the same excess in covetous-
ness as others, or as such characters as we have
alluded to above, are apt to imagine that no prin-
cioles either of idolatry or of atheism lurk iu
their hearts. They hug themselves in the belief
that they love God and man, and der>ire to deal
justly toward their neighbors, whil? their affec-
tions are alienated from God, and their hearts
going after their covetousness. " Their riches are
their strong city, and as an high wall in their
imagination," and their trust in the Most High
extends no farther than to the visible means of
supply which they think their own means and
wisdom and industry have provided. There is no
mental propensity, or subject, in regard to which
men are more apt to deceive themselves than that
under consideration. It is the last thing a pro-
fessed religionist will be apt to suspect, that be is

INCONSISTENCY OF C0VET0USNE3S WITH THE WORD OF GOD.

39

acting on the principles either of atheism or idol-
atry; and he would consider it nolhijig short of
an insult, wcro even a suspicion to this elfect in-
sinuated. Eut, it becomes every one, on tliis
point, " to search and try his ways." Let nie
ask you, 0 professor of religion, have you never
come to the house of (.iod, under the profession
ol" adoring liis perfections and giving thanks at
the remembrance of his mercy and goodness,
while, during almost the whole of the public ser-
vices, your thoughts and desires have been wan-
dering abroad among your shop.s, your counting-
houses, your ledgers, your gains, your losses,
j'our commercial projects, and otiier objects of
covetousness, while " tlio God in whose hands
your breath is, and whose are all your ways, you
have not glorified," althonwh " your hands were
lifted up in the sanctuary.'" Have you not re-
peatedly, yea, times without number, neglected to
adore God in your families, and " to show fortli
his loving kindness in the morning," from your
hurry to engage in the bustle of the world, and in
the acquisition of gain? Do you seldom or never
lift up y6ur hearts to God in tlie midst of your
worldly busiiiess, and implore his direction, and
his assistance to guard you from worldly-minded-
ness and every temptation? If your conscience
bears witness against you, that such dispositions
are indulged, and such duties neglected, you have
too much reason to suspect, that your heart is
not right with God, and that a principle intimately
Connected with idolatry, holds the ascendency
over your affections. In such a case, it becomes
every one to exercise a holy jealousy over him-
self, and to examine the secret springs of his
actions, lest, peradventure, he may be found
among those who are " without God in the
world." If he is in doubt or perplexity about
this important point, he will apply to Him " who
searchetH the hearts and reins of the children of
men," and will say with the Psalmist, " Search
mo- O God, and know my heart; try me, and
know my thoughts, and see if there be any wick-
ed way in me," and discover it to me, " and lead
me in the way everlasting." For if the princi-
ples and affections which constitute the essence
of idolatry and atlieism shall at last be found to
liave pervaded the heart, and to have been formed
into a habit, the doom which awaits tlie idolater
and the atheist will be pronounced by Him who
is "adiscerner of the thoughts and intents of the
heart," at that solemn day when " he shall come
to judge the world in righteousness."

Having dwelt with some particularity on the
above topic, I shall take only a cursory view of a
few more particulars connected with this depart-
ment of the subject.

2. Covetousness is declared to form an impassa-
ble barrier to the kingdom of heaven.

"Be not deceived," says the apostle of the Gen-
tiles, " for neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor
thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers,
nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of
God." This is the law of the God of heaven — a
law which is eternal and immutable — a law more
Bteadfast and unalterable than that of the Medes
and Persians. The laws of earthly sovereigns
may be changed, or their designs frustrated, but
the moral laws of the I\Iost High are absolutely
immutable, and no created being can attempt to
violate them, and prosper. As soon may wc
expect to unhinge the fabric of the universe, to
toss from their foundations the everlasting moun-
tains, to pull the sun from his place in the firma-
ment, or to quench the stars of heaven in eternal
night, as to expect admission into the kingdom of
Vol. l.— ?jQ

the just, while covetousness holds the ascendency
over the heart. For the declaration is express, and
is repeated in another ejjistle, and similar declara-
tions are interspersed throughout the volume of
inspiration, that "no covetous man who is an idol-
ater hatli any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ
or of God." Now the laws of God are not to be
considered as tlie dictates of an arbitrary sover-
eign, but as founded on the nature of things, and
the general constitution of the moral world.
Although, iu some instances, we are unable to
perceive the precise reason of certain laws or in-
junctions, contained in Revelation, yet we may
rest assured, that, in every instance, God has the
highest reason for what he declares, and for what
ho does; since His wisdom is infinite, and since
his eyes comprehend, at one glance, all the oljjects
and relations which exist throughout the universe.
In the present case, there are obvious reasons why
the covetous must be excluded from the kingdom
of heaven.

For, in the first place, they are nnqualif.ed for
its enjoyments. The pleasures of heaven are pure
and spiritual, but the jileasures of the c#vetous are
"earthly, sensual, and devilish." The pleasures
of heaven flow from a principle of universal be-
nevolence, which pervades the minds of all its
inhabitants, and without which it would be a
place of misery; but the pleasures of the covet-
ous, if they may be so called, are derived from
principles connected with envy, deceit, falsehood,
injustice, apathy in regard to the wants and happi-
ness of others, and with almost every species of
malignity. It is, therefore, impossible that covet-
ous characters should either contribute to the
happiness of fellow-associates in the realms of
bliss, or find any enjoyment for tlremselves in the
perpetual exercise of heavenly virtues.

In the next place, they are unqvialified for en-
gaging in its employments. Heaven being a social
state, and consequently, a scene of moral action,
its inhabitants are, of course, perpetually employ-
ed in beneficent services .corresponding to the na-
ture and circumstances of that happy world. As
to the nature of some of these services, and the
manner in which they are performed, we must
necessarily remain in ignorance in our present
state. Although, in that world, there are no poor
to be relieved, no sinners to bo reclaimed, nor dis-
tressed to be consoled — there are, doubtless, innu-
merable ways in which benevolence exerts its
noblest energies, in communicating happiness and
augmenting the joys of surrounding associates
Angels are " ministering spirits" to the saints oi.
earth, and have, in numerous instances, contribu-
ted to their preservation and comfort; and, in the
celestial state, "just men made perfect," may, in
a thousand ways incomprehensible to us, be min-
istering spirits to one another. They may deliver
lectures to each other on the works and the way?
of God — direct the attention to those scenes and
objects in which the glory of tludr Almighty Cre-
ator is most conspicuously displayed — relate the
history of Divine dispensations toward them in
the present state — seize upon every circumstance
by which ecstatic joy may be diftused throughout
the hearts of each other; and as knowledge is
necessarily progressive, even in that world, and
in every region of happy existence, the benevo-
lent principle may be exercised in various ways
in communicating and diffusing it among tlie
numerous hosts of heavenly intelligences. But
in whatever benevolent services "tiic saints in
light" may engage, it is evident that the covetous
are altogether unqualified for entering on such
employmeats. They are uncongenial to the tnuu

40

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

of thought tlioy pursue, and to their leading dis-
positions. For either scljishiiess, apatliy, pride,
sensual gratificution, or otlier maliynant propen-
sities, constitute the prominent features of their
character; and as these are directly opposed to
tlie benevolence of heaven, such predominating
principles must render tliem entirely unfit for
mingling in "the general assembly of the first-
bora, whose names are written in heaven," or for
taking a part in those labors of love for which
they are distinguished.

Some of the other employments of heaven con-
.sist in the celebration of the divine perfections.
" They worship him who livetli forever and
ever," saying, "Thou art worthy, 0 Lord, to
receive glory, and honor, and power, for thou
hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they
are and were created." They are likewise en-
gaged in contemplating the glory of the Divine
administration in the works of creation and pro-
vidence, for such is the subject of their song:
"Great and marvelous are thy works. Lord God
Almighty, just and true are thy ways, thou King
of saints." , But all such sublime exercises, being
uncongenial to the ruling p-A.s.sious and pursuits
of avaricious worldlings, could afford them no
pleasure; and, consequently, for the reasons now
suggested, they must be absolutely unfitted for
participating in " the inheritance of the saints in
light." And, if they are found unqualified for
the pleasures and enjoyments of the celestial
world, "they cannot, 'in the nature of things,'
enter into tbe kingdom of God." They will be
banished from that blessed world, not in conse-
quence of any arbitrary decree of the Almighty,
but in virtue of the constitution of the intelligent
system, and the fundamental laws of the moral
universe. And the very circumstance, that they
are unqualified for relishing the exercises and feli-
cities of the heavenly world, will add a peculiar
poignancy to those bitter reflections which will be
felt when they find themselves forever excluded
from the New Jerusalem

What should we think of the degraded wor-
shipers of Juggernaut, who prostrate themselves
before the car of that abominable idol — of the
priests of Baal, who cut themselves with knives
and lancets until the blood gushed out upon them,
and cried aloud, " O Baal, hear us!" — of the vota-
ries of Moloch, who threw their children into the
burning arms of their idol, while drums beat and
trumpets sounded to drown their cries — of the
South Sea islanders, who sacrifice human victims
to their wooden gods, accompanied with rites the
most horrid and obscene; what should we think
of such debased and wretched idolaters, with their
minds polluted with every moral abomination,
being admitted into the society of saints and an-
gels in the upper world. Would they be fit com-
panions of the heavenly inhabitants, or could
they join with intelligence and fervor in their
sublime and holy employments? The supposition
would be utterly repugnant to every idea we
ought to form of the associations of heavenly in-
telligences, or of the arrangements of the Divine
government. But, we have already seen, that
every covetous man is an idolater, with a mind as
groveling and impure, as that of the votaries of
Paganism, to whom we have alluded, and, conse-
quently, eijually unfitted for the society of blessed
spirits in the mansions above.

The same impressive truth was announced by
our Saviour, when he commanded the young man
who inquired the way to eternal life, to sell all
that he had and give to the poor, and come, and
fallow him I " Verily I say unto you, that a rich

man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of
God."

And again; " I say unto you, that it is easier fo»
a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than
for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God."
These declarations plainly imply the following
things: 1. That a rich man, considered as such,
or, as it is elsewhere expressed, one who "trusts
in his riches," cannot be admitted into the king-
dom of God; for such a trust partakes of the na-
ture of idolatry, which necessarily excludes its
votaries from the celestial kingdom. 2. That it
is extremely difjlcult for a man who abounds in
wealth, and has large possessions, not to trust in
such uncertain riches, and to bring his mind to
submit to the self-denying requisitions of the
gospel, so as to be ready to resign his worh'ly
treasures, when the laws of the gospel kingdom
require it. The truth of this is apparent in the
comparatively small number of rich men who
have devoted themselves to the cause of evangeli-
cal religion, as humble and self-denied followers
of the meek and lowly Jesus. There are men at
this moment in the higher places of society,
abounding in riches, ten times more than suffi-
cient for all the lawful purposes of sensitive en-
joyment, whom it would be as difficult to induce
to give the tenth part of their incomes, for the
support and propagation of true religion, as it
would be to drain the caverns of the ocean, or to
hurl the mountains from their bases, and toss
them into the depths of the seas, notwithstanding
their pretended zeal for the external interests of
the church.

Such is their pride, and their attachment to the
pomp and splendors of wealth, that nothing short
of Divine power could detach their hearts from
trusting in their uncertain riches, and induce
them " to count all things but loss that they may
win Christ." Such is the powerful influence of
wealth and external grandeur over the human
heart, that none but those who have attained a
strong and permanent conviction of unseen and
eternal realities, can look down upon them with
becoming indifference or contempt. And this
consideration should form a powerful argument
to the lower ranks of society, to encourage them
to submit with contentment to the allotments of
Providence, for their circumstances do not expose
them to the same temptations as the rich to ne-
glect the gospel and those things which belong to
their eternal peace. Were the riches, after which
they are sometimes apt to aspire, to be granted
them, it might prove, as it has often done, the
greatest curse that can befall them, and lay the
foundation of their eternal ruin. " For they that
will bo rich fall into temptation and a snare, and
into many foolish and hurtful lusts which drown
men in destruction and perdition."

3. Covetousness is inconsistent loith the idea of
our being redeemed, by the blood of Christ.

The apostle Peter declares, in reference to all
Christians, that " they are not redeemed with cor-
ruptible things, as silver and gold, but with the
precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without
blemish and without spot." And he brings for-
ward this consideration as an argument againsJ
worldly lusts, and in support of universal holi-
ness, that, " as obedient children, we ought no
longer to fashion ourselves according to the for-
mer luKts in our ignorance; but as he who hath
called us is holy, so we ought to be holy in all ,
manner of conversation." And Paul, in his
epistle to the Galatians, declares, that one end |
of the death of Christ is, " that he might deliver U3
frmn this present evil world," and consequeutly

INCONSISTENCY OF COVETOUSNESS WITH THE WORD OF GOD.

41

frcm all its covetous affections and lusts. The
work of our redornptiou is one of tlie most usto-
nisliing displays of Divine pprfection, and the
most glorious manifestation of Divino love toward
the sons of men. Preparations for its accornplish-
nient were going on in every preceding period of
the world. Prophets, in diHerent ages, were raised
up to announce it; the ceremonial law was insti-
tuted, and thousands of victims were slain on the
Jewish altars to pretigure the sulTerings of Mes-
siah and the glory that should follow; the various
events of Providence, the rise of empires, the fall
of kings, and the revolutions of nations, were all
directed in such a manner as to accomplish the
purposes of the Almighty, and to bring about
that great event — the death of Christ — in all the
circumstances in which it actually happened.
Celestial messengers descended from heaven to
earth to announce the birth of tho Saviour to
man; a series of august and striking miracles,
such as had never before been exhibited, gave
attestation of the Divine mission of the promised
Messiah; and at length, our great High Priest
humbled himself, and Ijecame obedient to the death
of the cross, when the sun was darkened in his
habitation, the earth did quake, the rocks rent,
tlie vail of the temple was rent in twain from the
top to tho bottom, the graves were opened, and
many of their inhabitants arose to life. Our
Redeemer at length burst the bonds of death,
arose to an immortal life, ascended to heaven
amidst a choir of angels, and is now set down at
the right hand of the Majesty on high. The great
end of all these solemn preparations in prophe-
sies, in providences, in sacrifices, types, and sha-
dows, and of the astonishing events which have
accompanied and followed the death of Christ,
was to counteract sin in all its various bearings
and aspects — to emancipate the soul from the
thraldom of the world and its affections and lusts,
and " to purify" for the service of God, " a pecu-
liar people zealous of good works."

Now, it is evident, that such noble designs
would be entirely frustrated, were a principle of
covetousness to hold the ascendency over the
human mind, however fair a cliaracler its votaries
might exhibit in the sight of men. If we are not
determined to " mortify tho flesh with its affec-
tions and lusts," and to make God the supreme
object of our desires and affections; if, on the
contrary, we are determined to give loose reins
to avaricious propensities, to make wealth and
grandeur, and worldly honors and distinctions
tiie chief object of our pursuit, then Christ "has
died in vain" with resp°ct to us, and wq have no
interest, and ought to claim no interest in the
benefits which he died to procure. It is presump-
tion in the highest degree, for any man to claim
an interest in the blessings of salvation, whose
conscience tells him that this world and its enjoy-
ments are uppermost in his affections. For, can
we for a moment suppose, that the Most High
God would form a design which is the admiration
of angels, that the most solemn preparations
should be made for its accomplishment, that all
tlie events connected with his moral administra-
tion should be so arranged as to have a special
bearing upon it, that the laws of nature should
be suspended and controlled, and a series of asto-
nishing miracles displayed, that the Prince of Life
would suffer the agonies of an accursed death —
that He " who thought it no robbery to be equal
with God, should take upon him the form of a
servant, and become obedient to the death of the
cross;" that angelic messengers should take so
deep an interest in such i-ransactions, and wing

their flight from heaven to earth in embassies
connected with such events — can we suppose that
such an astonishing train of events would have
been arranged and brought into effect, if a princi-
ple, which, above all others, has a tendency to
estrange the affections from God, were to be per-
mitted to rule in the human heart? The thing is
impossible, and, therefore, the covetous, whatever
show of religion he may exhibit, cannot, with
any consistency, lay claim to any of those eternal
blessings which the Son of God came into the
world to procure; since those effects which his
death was intended to accomplish, have never
been produced on his heart.

4. Covetousness is inconsistent with Love to
God.

Love to God is the foundation and the first
principle of universal holiness. In every renewed
soul it reigns triumphant and supreme. This
holy affection includes in it reverence, admiration,
humility, and gratitude, and is uniformly accom-
panied with adoration of the perfections of God,
and an unlimited dependence upon him, in refe-
rence both to our temporal comforts and our
eternal destination. It pervades the hearts of all
holy beings wherever existing throughout the
amplitudes of creation, and inspires them with
permanent and rapturous delight. It assimilates us
to angels and other pure intelligences, and prepares
us for associating with them and bearing a part
in their labors of universal benevolence. Hence,
we find, that this sacred emotion has formed the
distinguishing characteristic of the saints in every
age. We find the spirit of the Psalmist, in his
devotional exercises, continually rising toward
God, as his hope and confidence and the source
of his felicity: " Whom have I in heaven but
thee, and there is none upon earth that I desire
beside thee. As the hart panteth after the brooka
of water, so my soul panteth after thee, O God.
My heart and my flesh shall fail, but God is the
strength of my heart and my portion forever.
He is my refuge and my fortress, my God; in
him will I trust. In God is my salvation and my
glory; the rock of my strength, and my refuge is
in God. Who in heaven can be compared with
the Lord? who among the sons of the mighty can
be likened to Jehovah? Behold as the eyes of
servants look to the hands of their masters, so our
eyes wait upon the Lord our God. My soul
trusteth ia thee; yea, in the shadow of thy wings
will I make my refuge until these calamities be
overpast. Blessed is the man who maketh the
Lord his confidence, and whose hope is in tlia
Lord his God."

Throughout the whole range of Divine revela-
tion such sentiments are expressed, and such
affections displayed by the people of God. But
is it possible to be conceived, that either the nig-
gardly miser or the vain worldling can enter into
the spirit of such sublime sentiments, or elevate
his soul to such holy affections, however much
he may attempt to mimic the external forms of
devotion? Though he should affect humility by
bowing down his head like a bulrush, and profess
to join in adoration of the Most High, " in the
place of the holy," yet God is not in all his
thoughts, " and his heart is still going after his
covetousness." Those eternal respects which are
due to God, and that hope and confidence which
his people repose in his perfections, are to him
altogether unheeded and unknown. The world,
with its riches and splendors, is the deity which
he worships, while the attributes of the true God
arc seldom present to his mind. While tiie true
Christian exclaims wth e-xultation, " Thou art

42

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

ray portion, 0 Lord, therefore will I trust in
tiiee," the worldling overlooks the Eternal Source
of felicity, and " trusts in the abundance of his
riches." While the Christian hopes in God for
everything requisite to his happiness, both in the
life that now is and in the life to come, the world-
ling makes ^' gold his liope, and says of the fine
gold, 'Thou art my coufidence.' " While the
Christian, in the view of every calamitj' tliat may
befall liim, boldly declares, '• God is my refuge
and strength, my high tower and fortress, a pre-
sent help in the time of trouble;" on the other
baud, " the rich man's wealth is his strong city,
and a high wall iu his own conceit." Hence, the
love of riches and the love of God, are alloge-
ther incompatible; and hence the positive decla-
rations and injunctions of Scripture on this head:
" Love not the world, neither the things that are
iu the world. //' any 7na.n love the world, the love
of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the
world, thj; lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes,
and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is
of the world." Such declarations are plain and
explicit, and ought forever to set at rest the ques-
tion— whether covetousness and the love of God
be consistent with each other? — whatever form,
either of avarice or ambition, the covetous prin-
ciple may assume. And if covetousness is incon-
sistent with love to God, it necessarily excludes
those who are under its influence from a partici-
pation of the joys of heaven. For the inhabi-
tants of that world have their minds completely
pervaded with this sacred principle, in testimony
of which " they cast their crowns before the
throne, saying, Thou art worthy, 0 Lord, to
receive glory, and honor, and power, for thou
hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they
are and were created." "Blessing and honor,
and glory and power be unto Him that sitteth
upon the throne, and to the Lamb forever and
ever."

The evils of covetousness, and its inconsistency
with religion, appear from the numerous cautions
and exhortations delivered in Scripture on this sub-
ject.

Our Saviour frequently took occasion to admon-
ish his disciples and the multitudes who attended
him, on this point: "Take heed,'' said he, "and
beware of covctou.sness ;'" and he enforces the admo-
nition from this argument, " For a man's life con-
sisteth not in the abundance of the things which
he possesseth;" that is, neither tlie happiness of
our present existence, nor the continvance of that
e.xistence, depends upon the abundance of earthly
riches. For a moderate portion of them will suf-
fice for all the purposes of human enjoyment;
and where great riches are possessed, they usually
bring along with them encumbrances, snares, and
temptations, which foster vicious lusts, and affec-
tions, and not unfrequently lead men into destruc-
tion and percUtion. Beside, they form no security
against the diseases and accidents of life, from
which nothing can secure us but the providential
care of our heavenly Father. They cannot shel-
ter us from the stroke of lightning, the shock of
an earthquake, the fury of a hurricane or tempest,
from palsy, consumption, sickness, or the hand
of death. In regard to such accidents and dis-
eases, the poor man is as secure as the rich. Our
Saviour illustrates this truth by a very striking
example: "The ground of a certain rich man
brought forth plentifully; and he reasoned within
himself, saying, what shall I do; for I have not
room to store up my crops. And he said, this
will I do; I will pull down my old barns and build
larger cues, and there will I bestow all my fruits

and my goods. And I will say to my soul, thou
hast abundance of goods laid up for mnny years,
eat, driidi, and be merry. But God said unto hira,
thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of
thee; then whose shall those things be which thou
hast provided?" How olten is this impressive
representation realized, in the case of worldly
men who abound in wealth and are not rich to-
ward God! How many are there at this moment
as deeply engaged in ambitious scheme.s of hoard-
ing or aggrandizement as the fool in the parable,
to whom God will, in a few weeks or months, or
perhaps this very night, declare, by the voice of
his Providence, "Thy soul is required of thee.''
The sin of the rich fool, denounced in this para-
ble, did not consist so much in his being a nig-
gardly miser, or being altogether void of charily
to the poor; for none of these things are charged
against him; but it consisted chiefly in his forget-
fulness of God, and want of dependence upon
him — in an irreligious presumption and confidenca
in himself, imagining that he had a sufficient se-
curity in his own hands against the accidents and
calamities of life, and forgetting that the continu-
ance of his existence depended upon the will and
the power of his Creator. This is the natural
tendency of riches when not counteracted by a
principle of religion; and it is this tendency which
renders riches so dangerous to their owners, so
that a man who has any regard to his eternal in-
terests, ought rather to fear lest riches should be
forced upon him, than to make them the object
of his pursuit.

There are numerous injunctions of this kind
interspersed throughout the Scriptures; but in-
stead of illustrating them separately, I shall only
select a few passages which bear upon this sub-
ject, recommending them to the serious attentioa
of every professing Christian.

• The following are some of those passages which
denounce the sin of covetousness, the vanity of
riches, and the dangers which attend them. "Be-
ware that thou forget not the Lord thy God; lest
when thou hast eaten and art full, and hast built
goodly houses, and thy silver and thy gold is mul-
tiplied— then thine heart be lifted up, and thou
forget the Lord thy God, and say in thine heart,
' My power and the might of my hand have got-
ten me this wealth.' But thou shalt remember the
Lord thy God, for it is he that giveth thee power
to get wealth.* The wicked hath swallowed down
riches, but he shall vomit them up again. God
shall cast them out of his belly. In the fullness
of his sufficiency, he shall be in straits; when he
is about to fill his belly, God shall cast the fury of
his wrath upon him while he is eating. Though
he heap up silver as the dust, and prepare raiment
as the clay; he may prepare it, but the just shall
put it on, and the innocent shall divide the silver, t
Deliver my soul from the mass of the world who
have their portion in this life. Every man walk-
eth in a vain show; surely they are disquieted in
vain; he heapeth up riches and knoweth not who
shall gather them. They that trust in their wealth
and boast themselves in the multitude of their
riches, cannot by any means redeem their brother,
or give to God a ransom for him. Be not thou
afraid when one is made rich, and when the glory
of his house is increased; for when he dielh he
shall carry nothing away, his glory shall not de-
scend after him to the grave.i These are the un-
godly who prosper in the world and increase in
riches. Lo, this is the man who made not Goa

• Dent. vii. 11—17. t Job xx. 15, 22. and xsvii. 16, 17
i Psalm sviii. xxxix. xlix.

ON THE EFFECTS OF COVETOUSNESS

43

his confidence, but trusted in the abundance of
bis riches. If riches increase, set not your hearts
upon them Riches profit not in the day of wratli.
Their silver and their gold shall not be able to
deliver them in the day of the wrath of the Lord;
they shall not satisfy their souls, neither fill their
oowcls, because it is tlie stumbling-block of their
.uiquity. Wealth gotten by vanity shall be di-
minished. There is that maketh himself rich, and
yet hath nothing; there is that maketh himself
poor, and yet hath great riches. Bettor is a lillle
with the fear of the Lord tlian great treasures and
trouble therewith. An inheritance may be gotten
hastily at the beginning, but the end thereof shall
not be blessed. Labor not to be rich; cease from
thine own wisdom. Wilt thou set thine eyes upon
tliat which is not? for riches certainly make them-
Btlves wings and fly away.* There is one alone,
and not another, yea, he hath neither child nor
brother; yet there is no end of his labor, neither
is his eye satisfied with riches; neither, saith he,
for whom do I labor and bereave mj' soul of good;
this is also vanity. He that loveth silver shall not
be satisfied with silver, nor he that loveth abun-
dance with increase. Woe unto them that join
house to house, and lay field to field until there be
no place, &c. Let not the wise man glory in his
wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his
might, let not the rich man glory in his riches.
He that getteth riches and not by right shall leave
them in the midst of his days, and in th? end shall
be a fool."t

"Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth,
where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where
thieves break through and steal. No man can
Bcrve two masters; ye cannot serveGod and Mam-
mon. Take no anxious thought for your life,
what ye shall eat or what ye shall drink, nor yet
for your body what ye shall put on. Woe unto
you who are rich, for ye have received your con-
Bolatiou Woe unto you that are full, for ye shall
hunger: woe unto you that laugh now, for ye shall
mourn and weep. Verily I say unto you that a
rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of
God. What is a. man profited, if he shall gain
the whole world and lose his own soul? Take
heed and beware of covetousness. Take heed to
yourselves lest at any time your hearts be over-
charged with surfeiting and drunkenness, and the
cares of this life, and so that day come upon you
unawares. Labor not for the meat that perisheth,
but for that meat which endureth to everlasting
life."t " Make no provision for the flesh to fulfill
the lusts thereof. Tlie time is short; it remaineth
that they who buy, be as though they possessed
not, and they that use this world as not abusing
it, for the fashion of this world passeth away.
Let not covetousness be once named among you,
as becometh saints; for this ye know, that no
covetous man, who is an idolater, hath any inherit-
ance in the kingdom of Christ and of God. Set
your affections on things above, and not on things
on the earth. Mortify therefore your members —
inordinate afiection, evil concupiscence, and covet-
ousness which is idolatry. Let your conversation
be without covetousness, and be content with such
things as ye have."§ " Love not the world,
neither the things that are in the world; if any
man love the world, the love of the Father is not

* Psalm lii. Ixii. Ezek. vii. 19. Prov. xi. xiii. xv. xx. &c.

t Eccles. iv. 3; v. 10. Isa. v. 8. Jer. ix. 23; xvii. 11.

t Matt. vi. 19; xvi. 26; xix. 21. Luke vi. 24; xii. 15;
xzi. 34. John vi. 27.

{Rom. xiii. 14. 1 Cor. vii. 30. Ephes. v. 3. 2 Oor. vi.
10. Col. ii. 2. Heb. xiii 5

in him. They that will be rich, faJl into tempta-
tion and a snare, and into many foolish and hurt-
ful lusts that drown men in destruction and per-
dition. P^or the love of money is the root of all
evil, which while some coveted after, they have
erred from the faith, and pierced themselves
through with many sorrows. Charge them that
are rich in this world, that they trust not in un-
certain riches; but in the living God who giveth
us richly all things to enjoy. Go to, now, ye that
say, To-day or to-morrow, we will go into such a
city and continue there a year, and buy and sell,
and get gain; whereas ye know not what shall be
on the morrow; for what is your life? It is even
a vapor that soon passeth away. Go to,_now, ye
rich men, weep and howl for the miseries that
shall come upon you. Your riches are corrupted,
your gold and silver is cankered, and the rust of
them shall be a witness against you, and shall eat
yo\ir flesh as it were fire. Behold, the hire of the
laborers which have reaped down your fields,
which is of you kept back by fraud, crieth,and
the cries of them who have reaped, have entered
into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth. They are
enemies of the cross of Christ, whose end is de-
struction, whose God is their belly, whose glory
is in their shame, who mind earthly things."*

Such are a few of those divine admonitions, in-
terspersed throughout the Scriptures, both of the
Old and New Testaments, which are addressed to
us on the subject of covetous affections and world-
ly grandenr. They are the solemn and explicit
declarations of Him who hath all power and au-
thority in heaven and on earth, and by whom the
actions of men are weighed; and, therefore, they
ought to sink deep into the heart of every profes-
sor of religion, and be pondered with the most
profound seriousness and attention. If they pro-
duce a suspicion that the covetous principle lurka
within, every one of them ought to strike the
mind, as if it were spoken from the heavens in a
peal of thunder, and to alarm the convicted world-
ling to flee from the wrath to come. For such
declarations not only set before us our duty in the
plainest terms, but pronounce the present and
everlasting doom of every one who allows his af-
fections to be enthralled with the riches of the
world, and who passes into the eternal state under
their malign influence. In such passages of sacred
writ, the intimations of our duty and our danger
in regard to wealth, are as clear and perspicuous
us words can make them, and set aside every
doubt in regard to the inconsistency of covetous-
ness and religion. And, therefore, every man
who makes a religious profession, if he will but
take a moment's leisure to examine his own heart,
and his train of alFections, and to co.Tipare them
with the declarations of our Lord and of his holy
prophets and apostles, will at once perceive his
true state and character before God. Yet it ia
amazing, how easily men flatter and deceive them-
selves in this point. Nothing, perhaps, is more
diflicult than to make an ini|)ression upon the
minds of those whose affections have been lonj
riveted to earthly objects. In many cases, you
might as soon expect to cut through the Alpine
rocks with a quart of vinegar or (lie stroke of a
razor, as to cut a passage through the adamantine
hearts of the covetous, by any arguments or de-
nunciations which the n^nson of man, or the word
of God can suggest. We have a most striking
example recorded in the Gospel of Luke, of the
ineflacacy of Divine admonition and instruction

• 1 John ii. 15. 1 Tim. vi. 9. James iv. 14; v. 1 Philips

iii. 9.

44

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS

on this subject, even when delivered by the high-
est authority. Our Saviour, in tlie presence of a
multitude of Pharisees, publicans, and sinners,
spake a parable, intended to convince his hearers,
of the necessity of making a right use of their
worldly enjoyments; and lie enforced his instruc-
tions by the consideration, that if they should em-
ploy llicir wealth in purposes of piety and benev-
olence, at the hour of death, they would receive
their reward, in being introtlnced " into everlast-
ing habitations." He concluded his discourse
with these emphatic words: " No man can serve
two masters; for either he will hate the one and
love the other, or else he will hold to the one and
despise the other; ye cannot serve God and Mam-
mon." Immediately after which, we are told that,
" the Pharisees who were covetous, heard of all
these thinifs, and they derided him.''^* Instead of
opening their minds to receive the admonitions of
heavenly wisdom, which were so appropriate to
their characters, the instructions of the divine
Saviour rebounded from their hearts, as an arrow
from a wall of adamant. Instead of retiring to
commune with their own hearts, and to reflect
with seriousness on the admonitions they had re-
ceived, they sneered with contempt at the Great
Instructor, as if he had been a visionary who did
not understand the nature of human enjoyments,

and who despised wealth only because he could
not acquire it. They were as fixed in their ava-
ricious principles and resolutions, as a rock in
the midst of the tempest, and were determined to
pursue their courses at all hazards, whatever might
be the consequence, and they are now reaping the
rewards of their unrighteousness. We have too
much reason to fear that, in the present day, there
are in the visible church, multitudes of charac-
ters as hardened in their covetousness as the an-
cient Pharisees. And, therefore, it becomes every
one to exercise a holy jealousy over his heart in
regard to this deceitful, hardening and soul-ruin-
ing propensity. " For many strong men have
been wounded and cast down " by it; many who
entered on active life, giving high hopes of their
Christian attainments, have, through the influence
of worldly cares, and worldly grandeur, made
shipwreck of faith and of a good conscience, dis-
graced their profession, conformed themselves to
the corrupt maxims and pleasures of the world,
and fallen into many snares and temptations which
drown men in destruction and perdition. 0 that
' every one would ponder aright these emphatic
I words of our blessed Saviour: " What sliall it
I profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and
lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in
I exchange for his soul?"

CHAPTER IV.

ON THE EVILS WHICH FLOW FROM COVETOUSNESS.

W^HiLE the rational and pious distribution of
wealth might be made the source of innumerable
benefits to mankind, the inordinate " love of mo-
ney," we are told, " is the root of all evil.'' There
is scarcely a moral evil connected with the pre-
sent or past condition of the human race, but
may be traced, in a greater or less degree, to this
unhallowed atFection. It has even exerted a pow-
erful influence in producing the greater part of
those pAi/SicaZ evils which are felt in every land,
and among every rank of society. Were we,
therefore, to attempt a full illustration of this to-
pic, it would be requisite to take a review of the
state of the human race in every age, and to write
a history of wars and devastations, and of the ani-
mosities and contentions, the sorrows and suffer-
ings of mankind, — so that, instead of a few pages,
many volumes would be requisite for recording
the revolting details. But, as it is not necessary
in the present essay to enter into details, I shall
advert, in a concise manner, only to a few promi-
Eont particulars.

1. As covetousness naturally leads to dishon-
esty, so the covetous man is, to all intents and pur-
poses, a thief and a robber.

In the first place, he robs his Maker. This
might appear a very odd representation, if we
had not the authority of God himself to sanction
it. The prophet Malachi, in the name of Jeho-
vah, charges the people of Israel with this crime.
"Will a man rob God? Yet ye have robbed me;
but ye say, wherein have we robbed thee? In
tithes and offerings; for ye have robbed me, even
this whole nation." The Jews were commanded

* See Lr>ke x\'i. 1—14, eompttred with chap. zvii.

to bring certain animals to the altar of burnt-
olfering, to be slain as sacrifices, and a portion of
" the first-fruits of their increase," as a testimony
of their dependence upon God and their devotion
to his seiTice, that they might honor the Lord
with their substance. But, their covetousness, in
many instances, induced them to withhold the sa-
cred tribute; and, when they professed to bring
their offspring to his altar, instead of bringing the
pure and perffct offerings vv'hich the law required,
they offered polluted bread upon his altar, and
brought the blind, the lame, and the sick for sa-
crifice, which they would have thought unworthy
of being presented to their governor. In conse-
quence of such conduct, the curse of God was
pronounced on the guilty individuals, and on the
priests who winked at such robbery and profana-
tion. "Now, O ye priests, this commandment is
for you. If ye will not hear, and if you will not
lay it to heart to give glory to my name, saith the
Lord of Hosts, I will even send a curse upon
you, and I will curse your blessings; yea, I have
cursed them already, because ye do not lay it to
heart. For ye have profaned my name in that ye
say, the table of the Lord is polluted, and what
you offer thereon, contemptible. Ye brought
also the torn, the lame, and the sick; thus ye
brought an offering; should I receive this at your
hand, saith the Lord? But cursed be the deceiver
who hath in his flock a male, and voweth and sa-
crificeth to the Lord a corrupt thing; for I am a
Great King, saith the Lord of Hosts, and my
name is dreadful among the heathen." Such
were the sacrilegious practices of multitudes of
professed worshipers among the Jews, even aftei
they were restored from the Babylonish captivityi

THE EVILS WHICH FLOW FROM COVETOUSNESS.

45

ail 1 which brought down upon their heads Di-
vine judgments, and the severest curso of the
Most High.

Tlie same crimes are still prevalent under the
Christian dispensation, thougli they assume a dif-
ferent form. Both the avaricious miser and the
splendid worldling, rob Godpof his offerings, when
tliey withhold liiat portion of their substance
which he demands for his worship and service. —
It is true, indeed, that tlie Deity is, and ever must
be absolutely independent of all his creatures,
either in iieaven or on earth. Our giving cannot
enrich Him, nor our withholding impoverish hiai.
All the treasures of the universe were created by
him, and are subject to his sovereign disposal. —
" Every beast in the forest is his, the fowls of the
mountains, and the cattle on a thousand hil's; for
the world," said Jehovah, " is mine, and tlie full-
ness thereof." But, he has given the world we
inhabit, as a f/ift to the children of men, with this
reservation, tiiat, wliile one portion of its trea-
sures is e.\clusively allotted for the enjoyment of
man himself, and another for the inferior animals,
a third portion is to be applied for thi' mainte-
nance of the ordinances of religion, for diiVasing
divine knowledge throughout the world, and for
tlie purposes of universal benevolence. And this
reservation, so far from being a burden, or an
oppressive tax, is, in reality, one of the mediums
through which happiness is communicated and
snjoyed. When man complies with such a re-
quisition, and acts uniformly according to its spi-
rit, he secures to himself the highest honor and
happiness of which his nature is susceptible. It
assimilates him, in a certain degree, to angels and
the higher orders of pure intelligences, who are
continually employed in acts of voluntary benefi-
cence. It assimilates him to the Divine Saviour,
" who went about doing good," and hath left on
record a Divine maxim, which deserves to be em-
blazoned in letters of gold, and engraved on the
hearts of all the inhabitants of the universe — "It

IS .MORE BLESSED TO GIVE THAN TO RECEIVE." This

is a maxim which is seldom recognized, even by
Christians, in all its practical bearings. But were
it universally acted upon, it would completely
change the character of this world, and transform
it from a scene of sin and suffering, into a moral
paradise. In heaven, where this noble principle
ejcpands and governs the hearts of all its inhabit-
ants, it is one of the chief sources of that " full-
ness of joy," and those " pleasures which are at
God's right hand forovermore."

The covetous, therefore, in refusing to re-
cognize, and to act on this divine principle, both
violate the commands of God, roh him of the tithes
and offerings he demands, and prevent themselves
from enjoying the felicity of superior natures.
The miser robs God, when he either contributes
nothing to his service, or such a pitiful sum as
amounts to little short of an insult offered to the
cause of religion. The rich worldling who lives
in splendor, robs God of his due when he expends
fifty guineas on a splendid but useless piece of
furniture, a hundred guineas on some trifling
amusement, or a thousand pounds to gratify a
vain desire after worldly honor or distinction;
while he cither gives nothing at all, or contents
niraself with contributing two, five, or ten guineas
for the propagation of knowledge and Christianity
through the world. When a man who lives in
luxury and elegance, who docs not hesitate to
subscribe hundreds or thousands of pounds to
Conservative clubs or Orange societies, or who
wastes similar sums in gratifying his pride or his
appetites, contributes only such paltry portions

of his wealth to tlie most noble object that can
engage the attention of the human mind, he vir-
tually pours contempt on such an object, by
placing it in the very lowest ranks, and thus robo
iiis Maker, from whom he derived his wealth, of
the tribute which is due for the promotiou of His
glory.

Every professing Christian, likewise, in what-
ever station he is placed, when he regards the in-
terests of religion as merely a secondary object,
and refuses to come cheerfullj^ forward with a
fair proportion of his substance, according as God
has prospered him, for promoting the advance-
ment of the Redeemer's kingdom, must be con-
sidered as a sacrilegious robber, depriving the
Most High of the tithts and offerings he demands,
and consequently subjects himself to the inflic-
tion of a curse, similar to that which was de-
nounced upon the covetous Jews in the days of
Malachi.

In the next place, the covetous man robs the
poor, tJie distressed, the widow and the fatherless.
He robs them of their enjoyments, by withhold-
ing that assistance which is requisite for enabling
them to procure the comforts and necessaries of
life. The Creator has displayed his boundless
liberality in the abundant treasures of the earth
and seas, in the ample space afforded for the habi-
tations of man, and for the production of food and
the materials for clothing, and in giving rain from
heaven and fruitful seasons, that the hearts of
men may be filled with food and gladness. The
earth, if properly cultivated, and its productions
impartially distributed, would be more than suf-
ficient to supply every sensitive comfort to twenty
times the present number of the population of our
globe.* Even as matters now stand, there is far
more produced from the rivers, the ocean, and
the dry land, than is sufficient for the abundant
sustenance of man, and every species of animated
existence, were it distributed by the hand of equity
and beneficence. But covetousness interposes be-
tween the Creator and his creatures, and attempts
to intercept the streams of Divine Goodness, and
prevent them from flowing to every order of his
sensitive and intelligent offspring. It either hoards
up the treasures of Nature that few may enjoy
them, or wastes them in vanity and extravagance,
regardless of the privations and sufferings of
countless multitudes who are pining in affliction
and indigence. Instead of acting as the Alvwners
of the Creator, in distributing the bounties he has
put into their hands, the covetous do everything
in tlieir power to counteract the incessant opera-
tions of Divine Beneficence — and thus rob the
poor, the distressed and the helpless, of those com-
forts which his care and providence had provided.
They likewise rob them by an unceasing course
of injustice and oppression, defrauding them of
their rights, and, in the language of Scripture,
" grinding the faces of the poor, beating them to
pieces, and taking the spoils of the indigent into
their liouses."t

Again, the avaricious man robs his own family.
He frequently denies them the comforts of life,
and even its necessaries. Though his coffers are
overflowing with wealth, and the means of every
sensitive and rational enjoyment are within his
power, yet his wife and children are virtually

* Allowing only one fourth of the area of the globe to be
capable of cultivation, and that twelve acres of land are
sufficient for the maintenance of a family, it is easily proved
by calculation, that the earth would snpport sizteen thou-
sand millions of inhabitants, which is about twenty time*
the nnmber of its present popnlation.

t Isaiah iii 14, 15.

46

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS

sunk into the depths of poverty. Their food is
mean, and measured out witli a sparing hand.
Their clothes are of the coarsest stuff, and wear
the appearance of the garb of poverty; tlieir edu-
cation is stinted or altogether neglected, because
it would prevent him from adding a few more
shillings to replenish his bags and coffers. In
short, all their comforts, in.stead of flowing in
copious streams proportionate to his treasures, are
measured out to them in the smallest quantities,
like the small drops of medicine from an apothe-
cary's vial.

He likewise robs general society of those im-
provements and comforts which he is the means
of preventing.

Were it not for avarice, we should have our
towns and cities divested of every nuisance, our
streets broad and spacious, the light of heaven and
the refreshing breeze visiting every dwelling, our
narrow lanes demolislied, our highways clean
and smooth, and adorned with refreshing bowers,
asylums for the industrious pooi', seminaries for
the instruction of all ranks and ages in useful
knowledge, and innumerable other improvements
for promoting the happiness of the social state.
But covetousness interposes and raises an almost
insurmountable barrier to the accomplishment
of such designs; and, when they are partially
effected, in particular cases, it steps in and says,
" hitherto slialt thou come, but no farther, and
here shall all improvem.ents be stayed."

In short, he robs every pliilanthropic society
of its treasures, by withholding those gifts which
God has put in his power to bestow; and he robs
himself, by depriving himself of contentment and
serenity of mind, and of those external comforts
which God has liberally provided for all his crea-
tures. " Although he wanteth nothing for his
soul of all that he desireth, yet he deprives him-
self of the power to eat thereof." Such are the
robberies committed bj' every one in whose heart
covetousness sits enthroned.

If this species of robbery were viewed, by Chris-
tian and civil society, in its proper light, as de-
lineated in the word of God, the covetous extor-
tioner, and the gay worldling would be as much
shunned and hissed from society, as the sharper,
the thief, or the midnight depredator.

2. Covetousness uniformly leads to falsehood and
injustice.

The heart being set upon the acquisition of
wealth as its highest object, the worldling seizes
upon every mean by which it may be acquired.
Among these means, falsehood and misrepresen-
tation are particularly conspicuous. When he is
buying an article, he endeavors to depreciate its
properties and its value; and when he is to dispose
of a similar commodity, he overr;ites its qualities,
and attempts to procure a price for it far beyond
its worth. If there is a prospect of the price of
any commodity rising, he denies that it is in kis
possession, and if he has a deteriorated article
which he wishes to dispose of, he will varnish it
over with a fair outside to deceive the unwary.
If he is tying up a bun !le of quills, he will place
four or five in the center, not half the value of
the rest, and thus, he sends forth hundreds of liars
with a fair outside, to proclaim as many falsehoods
to the world. If he have money in the stocks, he
will sometimes endeavor to propagate false intelli-
gence to produce their rise or fall, according as
he finds it his interest to sell out or to purchase.
He misrepresents the state of the markets, and
the commodities of his neighbors, in order to en-
hance his own. When he covets his neighbor's
aroperty, he takes the advantage of either poverty

or ignorance, and resorts to falsehood and every
deceitful mean, in order to obtain it at half iU
value; and when it comes into his possession, its
defects are immediately transformed into valuable
properties, and it is rated at a price far superioi
to its intrinsic worth. In this way, his whole Ufa
becomes a course of sjjstematic falsehood; and, if
he can accomplish his designs by such means
without directly violating the civil laws of his
country, he regards himself as a man of upright-
ness and honesty — althougli the principle of ?ru<A.
which is the basis of the moral universe, is violat-
ed in almost every transaction. And, as he is a
liar and deceiver, so he is, almost as a matter of
course, guilty of injustice and oppression. For,
instead of relieving the poor and unfortunate,
when calamities befall them, he greedily seizes
upon such occurrences, in order to acquire t;i6
remains of their property at an under value. He
drives from their long accustomed dwellings, the
industrious cottager, and mechanic, whose an-
cestors had for generations occupied the same
habitation or plot of ground, in order that he may
have a chance of adding three or four pounds
more to his already overflowing treasures. The
bargains he drives, are all hard, and the poor who
are indebted to him for loans of money, are sure
to be fleeced of a double rate of interest. He is
generally a usurer who lends to the necessitous,
at an exorbitant rate, and when payments have
been delayed beyond their proper period, he seizes
upon their properties, like a furious wolf, and fre-
quently obtains them at a small fraction of their
value. All such acts of oppression, which are
direct violations of natural justice, he can com-
mit, and does commit, in the open face of day,
and hugs himself in the idea that he can do so
without directly violating the statute law of his
country.

Dr. Reed, in his late " Narrative of a visit to the
Aiuerican Churches," presents a sketch of a fe-
male character he met with in one of his jour-
neys, that bears a certain resemblance to what we
have now described: " Crowded and almost suffo-
cated [in our vehicle], we had an old lady who
did not fail to amuse us. She sat opposite me,
and would force a conversation, and as her voice
was sharp and shrill, what was meant for me
went to all. 'As for religion, she thought one as
good as another, if we did our duty; and her no-
tion of duty was to mind our own business. For
her part, she had always done so; she ridiculed
those who had employed others to do it for them;
she could always do hers best for herself; she
could make fifteen per cent, on money — had small
sums out now at fifteen per cent.' She felt that
this was not approved. 'Oh! she was not hard
with the poor creatures; if they were pressed, she
waited, and lent them a little more, so that they
could pay at last. She had always been unmar-
ried, not for want of offers, but she liked her inde-
pendency, and would resent the offers of any man
who would want to get her property.' I remark ■
ed, that she had done well not to marry; as a
person, like herself, who could do everything so
well, could have no need of a husband. ' Right,
right, sir,' she cried, laughing. Then getting
thoughtful, she continued: 'But I have a great
deal of care, and I often think, I should like to
retire and be quiet; and then, I feel as if I could

not be quiet, and then I should have no friend

I sliould want a friend, if I retired, else I could
afford it, you know.' 'Oh, I had no doubt of
her having a handsome property.' ' Oh no, sir,
your joke is very pretty, but I did not mean to
say I was rich. I have somewhere or other about

THE EVILS WHICH FLOW FROM COVETOUSNESS.

47

7000 dollars; but I guess that you have more
money tluiii all of us put together.' And thus
bIio contiiuisd throughout tlie journey, never em-
barrassed, always prepared to meet you in reply,
and always satisHed with her own shrewdness. —
She was really a character, — person, features,
dress and all, but a most pitiable one. A yrenl
usurer on a small scale; the love of money had
become in her the root of all evil; it made her in-
different to a future world, and destroyed all that
was feminine, tender, and benevolent."*

This is truly a graphic picture of an old female
miser, whose, heart appears to have oeen long
wedded to tlie Mammon of unrighteousness. Her
moral sense appears to have been coujpletcly
blunted by her love of money; for she appears to
have had no impression of the injustice of taking
fifteen per cent, from '' poor creatures." Yet, it
is evident from her declaring that '-she had a
great deal of care," and from her wish and hesi-
tation about retiring from the world, that she was
an itnfiappij mortal, as all such characters must
necessarily be. As the doctor would doubtless
intersperse in his conversation, some rational and
scriptural arguments against covetousne.'^s, it is
rather a defect iu his narrative, that he does not
state what impressions they made, or how they
were received; for the lady, he informs us, "was
always prepared to meet you in reply." Alas!
that so many such characters siiould be found in
a Christian land, wlio think, like tliis wretched
female, that they have done their duty, " when
they mind their own avaricious business."

3. Covetousness destroys natural Jeel'mg and
tenderness of conscience.

There are few vicious dispositions that have a
greater tendency to harden the natural feelings of
the human heart, and to produce a complete apa-
thy in regard to the wants and suiFerings of oth-
ers, than the inordinate love of money. The tale
of woe, the houseless wanderer shivering in rags
amidst the blasts of winter, the wants and dis-
tresses of the surrounding poor, and the claims
of indigent friends and relatives, make no impres-
sion on that heart which is encircled, as by a wall
of adamant, with the immoderate love of gain. —
On such a heart, the tears of the unfortunate, and
of the widow and orphan, will drop in vain. Its
eyes are blind to spectacles of misery, its hands
are shut, and its ears deaf to the calls of poverty
and the cries of distress. Such unhappy petition-
ers, instead of meeting with pity or relief, are
driven from the door of avarice, with growls and
Insults, and the haughtiness of a tyrant. Even
domestic aHliction, and the death of parents,
wives, or children, will scarcely affect the heart
tliat is rendered callous by covetousness. Of this
we have a striking example, in the case of Ed-
ward Nokes, some of the particulars of who.>e
avaricious conduct were formerly stated. (See p.
19.) In his younger days, ho used, at the death
of any of liis children, to have a deal box made
to put them in; and, without undergoing the so-
lemn requisites of a regular funeral, he would
take them upon his shoulder to the place appropri-
ated for their reception, as if he had been carry-
ing a common burden, or a young pig to the mar-
ket, and with similar apathy and unconcern. —
When once deposited in the grave, he appeared
to give hims'lf no further thought about the mat-
ter, and seemingly coincidv^d with the old maxim,
" out of sight, out of mind," and appeared as un-
concerned as if nothing had happened. A simi-

• Narrative of a lisit, &o. by Drs. Reed and Mattheson,
Yol. i. pp. 103, 104.

lar want of feeling seems to have characterized
the old American lady, whose features are deline-
ated above. To be " without natural affection," is
a disposition which, in the word of God, is ranked
with that of " a reprobate mind, maliciousuesis,
envy, murder, and other abominable crimes," and
is a plain proof of the malignity of the avaricious
principle from which it flows. And, as natural
feeling is destroyed, so the conscience is benumbed
by the covetous principle, and even "seared as
with a hot iron." Its remonstrances are gradu-
ally overcome by the daily increase of the avari-
cious appetite; and, in the course of time, its
"still small voice" is altogether disregarded. —
Neither the promises nor the threatenings of the
divine word, however frequently they may be
heard, nor the joys and terrors of the unseen
world, can arouse the conscience to a sense cf
duty or of danger. Such, in many instances, is
its i"iiscnsibility, that all the arguments and mo-
tives on the necessity of faith, repentance, and
amendment of life, become as ineffectual for
awakening consideration, as if thej' were address-
ed to the beasts of the forest, or the stones of the
field. No situation in which man can be placed
is more dismal and alarming than such a state;
and since it is the natural result of inveterate co-
vetousness, it should make every one tremble lest
he should be left to fall info those hurtful lusts
which drown men in destruction and perdition.

4. Covetousness leads to the indulgence of mur-
derous wishes, and even to murder itself.

As the lives of certain individuals frequently
stand in the way of the gratification of the covet-
ous appetite, the avaricious worldling naturally
wishes that they may be removed as speedily as
possible from the world; and when a relative dies,
at whose decease an inheritance is expected, -he
can scarcely refrain from expressing his satisfac-
tion and joy. Hence the anxiety with which
such persons look forward to the death of any
one from whom a legacy or an inheritance is to
be derived; and hence the very common expres-
sions of such, in reference to an uncle, an aunt,
or even a parent — " The old fellow has surely
lived long enough. When will he get out of the
way?" "I wish that old dame who gives away
so much money for religion, were safely landed
in heaven. If she continues here much longer, I
shall have a sorry chance of enjoying her posses-
sions." But covetousness does not always con-
tent itself with such unhallowed and diabolical
wishes. Strong desires and ardent wishes gene-
rally lead to corresponding actions. In the pre-
sence of the Omniscient, and in defiance of his
positive laws and his Almighty power, it not un-
frequently takes into its hands the power of life
and death, and, by an insidious murder, rids itself
of lliose who were considered as obstacles to its
gratification. The poisoned cup is administered,
or the sword and blunderhuss prepared, or the as-
sassin hired to poniard orro suffocate the unsus-
pecting victim, that avarice may glut itself with
the wages of unrighteousness and the spoils of
violence. Cases of this kind are so numerous
that many volumes would not be sufficient to re-
cord them. Perhaps it would not be going beyond
the bounds of fact to affirm, that one-half of th©
murders comniitteri in the world have had their
origin in this abominable affection. yVlmost every
daily newspaper that comf-s into our hands con.
tains some revolting details of this description. It
is seldom that a week passes in the police officoa
and other criminal courts in London, in which
cases of violence, or of murders, arising from tliia
cause are not exhibited to public view. And

48

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS

when we consiJer the secrecy and dexterity with
which such atrocious acts are generally conduct-
ed, we may easily conceive how many such deeds
may ho perpi-trated unknown to any iiuman be-
ing, except tlie perpetrator, and to which tlie eye
of Omniscience aU>ae is a witness.

Among, all ranks of society, such atrocities
have been committed. Not only the lower but
the very highest order of men have been impli-
cated in tUe commission of such enormities.
Even princes and nobles connected with the Bri-
tish throne, under the inflU'Mice of avarice and
ambition, have comniittcd crimes of this descrip-
tion, ut which humanity shu<lders. Richard III,
of England, when duke of Gloucester, and protec-
tor of England, after tiie death of his brother,
Edward IV, prepared his way to the throue, by
causing the earl of Rivers and other noblemen,
who liad charge of the legitimate heirs, to be be-
headed, without any trial or form of process, and
on the very day in which these men were mur-
dered at Pomfret, he treacherously caused a num-
ber of armed men to rush in at a given signal,
and seize Lord Hastings, when he was attending
a council at the Tower — whom they instantly I
beheaded on a timber-log which lay in the court.
And, when he had, by such atrocities and the
basest treacheries, seated himself on the throne,
to secure its stability, as he imagined, he hired a
principal assassin and three associates, to murder
the two young princes, his nephews, whom his '
brother had committed to his protection. They
came in the nigiit time to the chamber where the '
young princes were lodged. They found them '
in bed, and fallen into a profound sleep. After
BufFocating them with a bolster and pillows, they
showed their naked bodies to the principal assas-
sin," who ordered them to be buried at the foot of
the stairs, deep in the ground, under a heap of
stones. But this atrocious monster, notwithstand-
ing the splendors of his court, appeared never
afterward to enjoy repose. His eyes were always
whirling about on this side and ou that; and he
was always laying his hand upon his dagger,
coking as furiously as if he were ready to strike.
By day he had no quiet, and by night he had no
rest; but, molested with terrifying dreams, would
start from his bed and run about the chamber like
one distracted. He enjoyed the fruits of his
wickedness only two short years, and was killed
at the battle of Bosworth, where his body was
found in the field covered with dead enemies and
all besmeared with blood. It was thrown care-
lessly across a iiorse, and carried to Leicester,
amidst the shouts of insulting spectators. How
many such niurdors may have been committed,
under the influence of covetousuess, by ambitious
statesmen, by kiiigs and conquerors, by guardians
and wardens, and even by the nearest relatives,
God only knows; but history, both ancient and
modern, is full of such revolting details; and such
details relate only to such as were detected and
exposed to public view. When we seriously con-
sider this dreadful tendency of the covetous and
ambitious principle, it should form a powerful
motive to every one, and particubirlv to every
professing Christian, for counteracting the first
risings of such depraved affections. For, if they
be harbored and cherished for any length of time,
they may lead to atrocities from which the mind
would have previously shrunk back with horror.
As a few small sparks will sometimes produce an
appalling conflagration, so a few covetous affec-
tions, nursed and fostered in the heart, may lead
to the most appalling murders, and to the destruc-
tion of soul aud body, both in regard to our-

selves, and to the victims of our unhalloweo
propensities.

5. Covetousuess has, in numerous instances,
pel verted the administration of tfie law, and Jrus-
trated the ends of public justice.

Courts of Judicature were instituted for the
purpose of dispensing justice between man and
man, for punishing the guilty and protecting the
innocent; and therefore, those who are appointed
to preside in such cases, ought, in an especial
miinner, to be men of uprightness and impar-
tiality, and inflexible in their adherence to the
sid^i of truth and justice. Hence, the propriety
of the advice of Jetliro to Mos's, that, in appoint-
ing judges for Israel, he should make choice of
'•able men who fear God and hutc cordousness.'*
Without the fear of God before ids eyes, a judge
will be liable to be biased in his decision by sel-
fish and worldly motives, and the influence of
proffered bribes. And, how often docs it happen
Ih-dt gold, or something equivalent to it, turns the
scales of justice, aud makes them preponderate
on the side of iniquity aud oppression? — when
the cause of the rich is preferred, and the poor
deprived of their rights — the innocent condemned,
and the guilty acquitted — "the persons of the
wicked accepted, and the cause of the widow and
the fatherless turned aside!" By such unrighte-
ous decrees in courts of Judicature, the most dis-
tressing and melancholy effects have frequently
been produced. Families have been robbed of
everjr eartidy comfort, and plunged into the depths
of poverty and despair. The stranger and the
destitute, the widow and the orphan, have been
oppressed and forsaken, and denied the common
rights of justice and humanity. The wicked
have been left to triumph in their wickedness,
while the righteous have been condemned to im-
prisonment, to exile, or to death. Men of inte-
grity and piety " of whom the worlu was not
worthy," have been doomed to dungeons, to
racks, to tortures of every kind, and to be con-
sumed in the flames, while their accusers and
judges have been permitted to riot and fatten on
the spoils of iniquity. Hence the frequent and
pointed declarations of Scripture in reference to
judges, "Tiiey shall judge the people with just
judgment." " Thou shalt not respect persons,
neither take a gift; for a gift doth blind the ej'es
of the wise, and pervert the words of the righte-
ous." " Thou shalt not respect the person of the
poor, nor lionor the person of the mighty, but in
righteousness shalt thou judge thy*neighbor."
Aud hence, the threatenings denounced against
the rulers of Israel by the prophet Isaiah: "How
is the faithful city become a harlot I righteousness
lodged in it, but now murderers. Thy princes are
companions of thieves; every one loveih gifts, and
follovveth after rewards; they judge not the fa-
therless, neither doth the cause of the widow come
unto them. Therefore saith the Lord, the Mighty
One of Israel, — Ah! I will ease me of mine ad-
ver>arii-s and avenge me of mine enemies."

History, both civil and sacred, is full of exam-
ples of this description. We have a striking in-
stanc ; recorded in the first book of Kings, in
relation to Ahab, and the vineyard of Naboth.
The king desired to have the vineyard to add to
the girdens belonging to his palace. But Naboth
v\'as prohibited, by the law of Moses, from alien-
ating from his family and posterity, the inheri-
tance of his ancestors. Jezebel the queen was
determined, however, to effectuate her purpose^
and she found ready instruments among the judges

•Deot. xvi.18, 19. Exod. xxiii. 6, 9.

THE EVILS WHICH FLOW FROM COVETOUSNESS,

49

of the laiul, to carry into execution her diabolical
Bchenio. With the basest effrontery and iiypo-
crisy, she wrote letters in Aliab's name to tlie
nobles and the elders of the city in which Naboth
dwelt, and liirod two " men of Belial" to witness
against him that he had " blasphemed God and
the king." It is truly lamentable, that, in every
age, in ail such cases, princes have never wanted
instruments to accomplish their most atrocious
designs, when they made an appeal to the prin-
ciple of ambition and avarice. In tliis case, it
would appear, there was not one of all the judges
of this city lliat abhorred such a piece of villany,
or was proof aguinst the Hatteries and bribes of
the wicked Jezebel. For, in obedience to her
order, and without the least remonstrance, " tiiey
proclaimed a fast," they set the virtuous Naboth
"on higii among the people," condemned him on
the false witness of two atrocious characters, and
"carried him forth out of the city and stoned him
with stones that he died." And, in order to dis-
play their sycophancy to this atrocious woman,
ani.1 to gratiiy her pride and revenge — and to show
that they deserved her favor for the deed they had
committed, tliey immediately sent information to
Jezebel, saying, " Naboth is stoned, and is dead."
This is but one instance, out of many thousands
of similar crimes wiiich have been committed
under the show of justice, through the influence
of selfishness and avarice. The records of the
Inquisition, of the conclaves of popes and cardi-
nals, of the star chamber, of the high commission
court, and even of many other courts deemed
more just and honorable, by whose decrees, men
innocent of any crime, have been fined and im-
prisoned, robbed of their earthly possessions, tor-
tured with racks and thumb-screws, and doomed
to ignominious deaths, would afford ten thousands
qf striking examples of unrighteous decisions,
(proceeding from a principle of ambition and co-
vetousness, suilicient to make " the ears of every
one that hears them to tingle." '

It is related of that pious and upright judge.
Sir Matthew Hale, that, when a gentleman who
had a cause to be tried at the assizes, sent him a
buck for his table; as soon as his name was men-
tioned, he asked him, "if he was not tjie same
person who sent him venison," and finding he
was the same, he told him, " he could not suffer
the trial to go on, until he had paid him for his
buck." To which the gentleman answered,
"that he had never sold his venison, and that he
bad done nothing to him that he did vot do to every
judc/e that had gone that circuit.''' But this excel-
lent judge had learned from Solomon that "a gift
pervertetli the ways of judgment," and therefore
he would not suffer the trial to go on until he
had paid for the present: upon which the gentle-
man withdrew the record.

On another occasion, at Salisbury, the dean
and chapter, having, according to the custom,
presented him with six sugar-loaves, on his cir-
cuit, he made liis sen'ants pay for the sugar be-
fore he wf^uld try their cause. These anecdotes,
while they illustrate the uprightness and impar-
tiality of this eminent person, also prove, that it
was customary for those who had causes to be
tried, to give presents to the Judges of assize; and
lliat, in all probability, they frequently acted
under the influence of such bribes.

Another story is told of Judge Hale, in refe-
rence to a case between two brothers, the younger
of whom had endeavored to deprive his elder bro-
ther of an estate of £500 a year, by suborning
witnesses to declare that he died in a foreign land.
0 nder the guise of a miller, he was chosen one of

the jury on this cause; and as soon as the clerk
of the court had sworn in the jurymen, a littlo
dextrous fellow came into their apartment and
slipped ten golden Caroluses into the hands of
eleven of tlie jury, and gave the miller five, while
the judge, at the same time, was known to be
bribed with a great sum. The judge summed up
the evidence in favor of the younger brollicr, and
the jury wer» about to give their assent, when
the supposed miller stood up and addressed the
court with such energetic and manly eloquence,
as astonished the judge and all present — unraveled
the sophistry to the very bottom, proved the fact
of bribery, evinced the elder brother's title to the
estate, from the contradictory eviiiences of the
witnesses, and gained a complete victory in favor
of truth and justice.

The well-known Judge Jeffreys, who was as
avaricious as he was unjust and cruel, reduced
many innocent victims to beggary, by his rapa-
cious exactions. A gentleman of Devonshire, of
the name of Prudeaux, having been thrown into
prison, and drending the severe and arbitrary
spirit, which at that time met with no control,
was obliged to buy his liberty of Jeffreys, at the
price oi fifteen thousand pounds, though he could
never so much as learn the crime of which he
was accused.

And, as judges have perverted judgment, so
advocates and pleaders in courts of justice, under
the influence of avarice, have endeavored to
" turn aside the cause of the needy in judgment."
How often have such persons, by means of sophis-
try, misrepresentation, and false eloquence, sup-
ported a bad cause, and robbed the fatherless and
the widow of their just riglits and their dearest
enjoyments — while the very moment they were
doing so, they were conscious of the injustice of
their procedure! thus subjecting themselves to
that terrible denunciation, " Woe unto them that
call evil good, and good evil, that put darkness for
light, and light for darkness, that juftifythe wicked
for reward, and take away tiie righteousness of
the righteous from him." Nothing is more com-
mon, among such persons, than to undertake a
cause of any description, however untenable, pro-
vided, they are paid for defending it. In opposi-
tion to such conduct, winch is directly opposed
both to reason and the word of God, it is said of
Sir M. Hale, that " if he saw a cause was unjust,
he would not meddle farther in it; but to give hia
advice that it was so; if the parties after that
were to go on, they were to seek another coun-
selor, for he would assist none- in acts of injus
tice." " In his pleadings, he abhorred those too
common faults of mis- reciting evidence; quoting
precedents or books falsely, or asserting things
confidently, by which, ignorant juries or weak
judges are wrought upon and deceived." Would
to God, that ail our pleaders were animated by
such upright and honorable principles!

6. Covetousness has transformed many of the
ministers of religion into courtly sycophants, and
hunters after places of Jwnor and worldly gain.

Tiie apostle Peter solemnly enjoins Christian
pastors to " feed the flock of God, taking the
oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly,
not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind." Neither
to act as " iords over God's heritage, hut to be en-
samples to the flock." But, how often do we
find that jjrofessed ministers of the cro.-pel appear
to have a greater respect to the ])ecuniary rewards
of their office than to accomplish the great ends for
which it was appointed. Otherwise, how should
it ever happen, that men would have the effron-
tery to receive five, or ten, or fifteen hundred

50

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

Sounds a year, under pretense of " feeding the
ock of God," over which tliey were solemnly
appointed, and yet spend their time in fashionable
dissipations in distant countries, without ever
caring for the souls of their parishioners, or im-
parting to them the least portion of divine instruc-
tion? Such ministers, when at any time they do
preach to their people, will naturally frame their
sermons according to worldly motives, and for
selfish designs. If it may promote their secular
interests, they will appear like Apostles, full of
ardent zeal for the truth, and in opposition to
error and abounding sins. But, if the doctrines
of the cross be not palatable to their fashionable
hearers, they will amuse them with Pagan mo-
rality, smooth down the threatenings of the
divine word, and endeavor to gratify the corrupt
humors of their audience. The standard of their
religion changes with the changes of the State;
and they will not scruple, when their worldly in-
terest is at stake, to defend all that is odious in
tyranny, and to extol the most wicked and un-
principled characters. Of this we have a striking
example in the case of the Reverend Dr. Shaw,
who lived in the time of the protectorship of the
Duke of Gloucester, who afterward usurped the
crown, under the title of Richard III. Among
other pleas to gain his ambitious designs, Richard
attempted to maintain what had not the shadow
pf a foundation in truth — that both Edward IV,
his own brother, and the Duke of Clarence, were
equally illegitimate, and that the Duchess of
York had received different lovers, who were the
fatheis of these children. Nothing was consider-
ed more impudent and unfounded than this asser-
tion, which threw so vile an imputation on his
own mother, a princess of irreproachable virtue,
and then alive. Yet the place chosen for first
promulgating this shameful falsehood, was the
pulpit, before a large congregation, in the protec-
tor's presence; and a Reverend Doctor of Divinity
was base enough to prostitute the sacred office for
this purpose. Dr. Shaw was appointed to preach
at St. Paul's; and having chosen this passage for
his text, "Bastard slips shall not thrive," he en
larged on all the topics which could discredit the
birth of Edward IV, the Duke of Clarence, and
of all their children. He then broke out into a
panegyric on the Duke of Gloucester, and ex-
claimed, "Behold this excellent Prince, the express
image of his noble father, the genuine descendant
of the house of York; bearing no less in the
virtues of his mind, than in the features of his
countenance, the character of the gallant Rich-
ard, once your hero and favorite; he alone is
entitled to your allegiance; he must deliver you
from the dominion of all intruders; he alone can
restore the lost honor and glory of the nation."
Such was a part of the fulsome oration of this
Reverend sycophant, in favor of a despicable
tyrant and atrocious murderer. It was previously
concerted, that as the doctor should pronounce
these words, the Duke of Gloucester should enter
the church; and it was expected that the audience
would cry out, " God save King Richard ! "
which would immediately have been laid hold of
as a popular consent, and interpreted to be the
voice of the nation. But Providence, not unfre-
quently, turns the schemes of the crafty into
foolishness. By a ridiculous mistake, worthy of
the whole scene, the Duke did not appear until
after this exclamation was already recited by the
preacher. The Doctor was therefore obliged to
repeat his rhetorical figure out of its proper place:
the audience, less from the absurd conduct of the
discourse, than from their detestation of these

proceedings, kept a profound silence; and the
protector and his preacher were equally abashed
at the ill success of their stratagem. For, " Ho
who sits in the heavens," and whose eyes " be-
hold the cliildren of men," " holds in derision"
all such deceitful schemes, and disappoints th«
devices of the crafty, so that their hands cannot
perform their enterprise.

It is to be hoped, that there are, in our times,
few persons connected with the sacred otfice, who
would go all the length with the despicable syco-
phant to whom I have alluded. But there is no
one who reads the daily journals, and has his eyes
open to what is passing around him, but must
perceive that there are characters within the limits
of the British Empire, invested with the office of
ministers of the gospel, who make a near approxi-
mation in their temper and conduct, to such
political parasites. It becomes ministers of reli-
gion in general, to be particularly on their guard
against such unhallowed propensities, so degrad-
ing to the office of ambassadors of Christ, and
with the indulgence of which they have been so
frequently charged. If their great object be
merely "to please men," they "cannot be the
servants of Christ;"and, in flattering the great,
and pandering to their pride, from ambitious mo-
tives, they will be found subjecting themselves to
that awful denunciation of our Saviour, " He that
is ashamed of me, before men, of him will I be
ashamed before my Father and his holy angels."
And a more awful situation can scarcely be con-
ceived than that of an ambitious and worldly-
minded minister standing before the bar of God,
and commanded " to give an account of his stew-
ardship," and of the souls committed to his care.
The prospect of such a scene, and its appalling
consequences, ought to make every such charac-
ter tremble, if he really believes in a future retri-
bution; and either throw aside all pretensions to
the sacred office, or " break off his sins by righte-
ousness," and " flee for refuge from the wrath to
come."

In short, what was addressed by the prophet
Malachi, in the name of Jehovah, to the priests
of the Jews, might be addressed with propriety to
many of the ministers of the New Testament
Church, and ought to excite their solemn conside-
ration: "Ye have departed out of the way; ye
have caused many to stumble at the law; there-
fore have I made you contemptible and base be-
fore all the people; as you have not kept my
ways, but have been partial in the law. Now,
therefore, 0 ye priests, this commandment is for
you — if ye will not hear, and if ye will not lay it
to heart, to give glory to my name, saith the
Lord of hosts, I will even send a curse upon you,
and I will curse your blessings, yea, I have cursed
them already, because ye do not lay it to heart."

7. Covetousness inclines men to presumption and
self-sufficiency, as if they could live independently
of their Maker, and consequently leads to a vir-
tual denial of a superintending Providence.

God is the original source of existence and hap-
piness. On him all creatures, from the archangel
to the worm, depend for every enjoyment they
now or ever will possess. Throughout every
region of the universe; all the laws of nature,
and all the movements of the material system
connected with these laws, are absolutely depen-
dent upon Him " who spake, and it was done,"
who gave the command, "and all things stood
fast." Consequently, all the orders of intelligent
beings, wherever existing throughout creation,
are every moment dependent upon his superin-
tendence and care, for the continuance of tbtJi

THE EVILS WHICH FLOW FROM COVETOUSNESS.

51

existence, and for every comfort they enjoy.
Were he to withdraw his supporting hand, their
existence and enjoyments would cease, the wheels
of nature would stop, and the vast fabric of the
universe would soon be transformed into one
frightful and universal ruin. " For in Him we
live and move, and have our being;" his visita-
tion sustains our spirits, and in his hand is the
sou! of every living thing, and the breath of all
mankind. It is, therefore, one of the first duties
of every rational creature, to look up to God for
every blessing, to confide in him for every earthly
comfort, and to acknowledge his goodness for
every sensitioe as well as spiritual enjoyment he
confers. To act otherwise, is virtually to call in
question his existence, and his over-ruling provi-
dence.

But riches, to which tlie covetous appetite is
directed, incline men to presume on their own
self-sufficiency, and to rob God of that homage and
confidence which is due to him as the Sujtreme
Dispenser of every blessing. In many cases, they
virtually depose God from his throne, and .set up
the world as the object of adoration and con-
fidence. Instead of directing the soul to trust in
tlie Most High in the midst of dangers and dis-
tress— "the rich man's wealth is his strong city,
and as a high wall in his own conceit," to which
he looks for defense in the prospect of what-
ever may befall him. Hence, it is declared of
Israel, aft«r they were filled with abundance,
" their heart was exalted, therefore have they
forgotten nie, 'saith the Lord;" and hence the de-
claration of the Psalmist in regard to such, " they
trust in their wealtii, and boast themselves in the
multitude of their riches." This confidence in
wealth, and forgetfuhiess of dependence upon
God, form some of the chief reasons why so
many pointed injunctions are given in Scripture
inTeference to ihe evils of covetousness, and the
danger attending the accumulation of wealth. It
was on this account, chiefly, that the rich man
"who had goods laid up for many j'ears," was
condemned. He trusted in these riches as the
source of his happiness, and as a security in his
own hands against every calamity; and he pre-
sumptuously calculated on the enjoyment of
many years to come, forgetting that he was every
moment dependent for exi.stence on that Almighty
Being, " in whose hand our life is, and whose are
all our ways." This was likewise the charac-
teristic sin of the rich voluptuary, "who was
clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sump-
tuously every day." He was not a miser, neither
were the poor driven with insolence from his
door; for Lazarus lay at his gate, and was fed
with the crumbs from his table. But he was for-
getful of God; his" riches were his confidence; and
led him to skepticism and irreligion, and to over-
look and even deny the great realities of the eter-
nal vorld. This is evident from his request, that
Lazarus would go, in the capacity of a prophet,
and testify to his brethren the truth and reality
of a future state of existence.

This confidence in riches has, in thousands of
instances, been a snare to professors of religion,
especially when the open profession of genuine
Christianity exposed to hazard their worldly pos-
sessions. Trusting more in their wealth than in
Hie promise of divine protection, and looking
more earnestly on the things which are seen and
taraporai, than or, those which are unseen and
eternal, they have turned aside from tlie profession
of their faith, and virtually " denied the Lord who
bought them." Eusebius, the ecclesiastical his-
torian, relates, that " in the time of the severe

persecution of the church by the Emperor Decius,
the rich men among the Christians were the most
easily and miserably foiled." The love of the
world vanquished their Christian fortitude, and
led many of them to relapse into the profession of
Pagan idolatry. In the time of the Arian perse-
cution, many of the rich who occupied oflices
which should have led them " to contend earnestly
for the faith once delivered to the saints," accom-
modated their profession to their desires after am-
bition and avarice. Like too many in our day,
they had a political faith which was either ortho-
dox or Arian, according as the State should deter-
mine, and as public favor and emolument should
smile on the one or the other. The history of the
church is full of examples of this kind, and there
is too much reason to fear that there are many in
our times, both among the clergy and the laity,
following in their footsteps. It therefore becomes
every one, and especially those professors of reli-
gion who are possessed of wealth, carefully to
examine the state of their hearts on this point,
and ascertain whether they are " trusting in the
Lord," or "putting confidence in princes." In
order to the exercise of confidence in God, it is
necessary that we should sometimes be brought
into .straits and ditficulties. When the poor are
in want, or enjoy but a scanty portion of the good
things of the world, — if they be Christians, it
naturally leads them to a sense of dependence,
and to look up to Him from whom all comforts
flow; and it is highly expedient for the exercise of
faith and liope, tiiat we should frequently/eeZ that
we are dependent creatures. But riches have a
tendency, if we be not every moment upon our
guard, to make us forget our dependence upon
the Most High, and to beget a spirit of pride and
self-sufliciency, as if we were able to guide our-
selves througli tlie world, without being beholden
to the care of Divine Providence. But, let such
learn to know, that they stand as much in need
of the care and protection of heaven, as the
poorest wretch tliat wanders houseless and for-
lorn. They have food and drink of every quality,
and in abundance. But can food ward off calami-
lies or death? A tile falling from a house, the
oversetting of a chariot, or a flash of lightning
from the clouds, will kill a rich man as well as
a poor. Thejr have changes of costl • iairaent,
while the poor are covered with rags. But wiU
the gout, the palsy, the stone, or the buniiag fever,
pay any respect to costly attire? or will t'le patient
feel less agony under them, because ht la cover-
ed with purple and scarlet? Beside, aa earth-
quake, an inundation, a tempest, a conf effraticr.,
a shipwreck, the perfidy of friends, the midnight
robber, or the convulsion of nations; all which
events are under the direction of God — may, in a
few days, sweep from them all their earthly pos-
sessions, reduce them to a state of indigence, and
lay all their earthlj' glory in the dust. Hence the
propriety of attending to the admonition of the
Psalmist: "Trust not in oppression, become not
vain in robbery; if riches increase, set not your lieart
upon them. I'rust in Jehovah at all times, ye
people, pour out your heart before him, God is a
refuge for us."

8. Covetousness has produced all the public
etils, wars, and demstations which have hapnened
in every age of the world.

The records of liistory, as I have had occasion
to notice, contain little else than disgusting de-
tails of the mischiefs and the miseries inflicted oa
the world, by the ambition and rapaciousness of
mankind. The earth, which might long ago
have been transformed into a scene of fertility and

52

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

beauty, by the benevolent agency of human be-
ings, has, in most of its regions, been turned into
a scene of desolation, by destroying armies prowl-
ing over every country in quest of plunder. Such
is the insatiable appetite of avarice, that, not con-
tented with '-devouring widows' houses," spoil-
ing the weak and defenseless in her native land,
she has aimed at enriching herself with the plun-
der of Empires. Like hell and the grave, "she
has enlarged lier desire, and opened hir mouth
without measure, and the gloiy, the multitude
and the pomp " of temples, cities, states, king-
doms, and continents, have become a prey to
her ever-craving appetite, and been swallowed up
and devoured. Yet, after all, she is never satis-
tied, and the whole earth becomes too narrow a
theater for her rapacity and ambition. Alexan-
der, in the mad career of his conquests, subdued
and plundered the greater part of the known
world, and had the riches and splendor of its most
magniticent cities at his command; yet when he
had liuishcd his course, he sat down and wept
like a crocodile, because he had access to no other
world, that might serve as a theater for war-
fare and plunder. Thus it is that avarice would
never curb her boundless desires, until she had
glutted herself, not only with the spoils of this
terrestrial region, but with the treasures of the
universe; yet, like hell and destruction, she would
never be satisfied. Nor would ambition — her
kinsfellow and companion — ever cease its career,
until it had subdued every order of intellectual
existence, ascended the throne of the Most High,
and seized the reins of universal government.

It would be needless to bring forward illustra-
tions of this topic, or to attempt to show that the
covetous and ambitious principle, has been the
main cause of the wholesale destruction of man-
kind, and the wide spread of human misery, for
almost the whole of the records of history contain
little else than a continued series of illustrations
on this point; and I have already, under the first
head, selected a few examples, which might be
multiplied a thousand fold.

But I cannot help pausing a little, to reflect on
the numerous evils, and the incalculable misery
which this unholy affection has produced in the
world. Could we take only a bird's-eye view of its
operations ani effects, beginning at the first apos-
tasy of man, and tracing them down the stream
of time to the present day — and could we, at the
same time, stretch our eyes over the globe, from
north to south, and from east to west, and con-
template the miseries which have followed in its
train in every land — what an awful and revolting
picture would be presented to the view! But
there is no eye, save that of Omniscience, which
could take in the thousandth part of the widely-
extended miseries and desolations which it has in
every age produced. During the period which
intervened frorn the fall of man to the deluge,
this principle appears to have operated on an ex-
tensive scale, for we are told, that "the wicked-
ness of man was great," and that "the earth was
filled with VIOLENCE," — evidently implying that
the strong and powerful were continually engaged
in seizing on the wealth and possessions of the
weak and defenseless, oppressing the poor, the
widow, and the fatherless, plundering cities, de-
solating fields, and carrying bloodshed and ruin
through every land — until the state of society
lose to such a pitch of depravity, as rendered
it e,i<pedient that they should be swept at once,
with an overflowing flood, from the face of crea-
tion.

After the deluge, it was not loug before the lust

of ambition began again to display itself by an
inordinate desire after wealth and aggrandizement;
and hence, wars were recommenced among al-
most every tribe, which have continued, in con-
stant succession, throughout every generation to
the present day. Wherever we turn our eyes over
the regions of the globe, whether to the civilized
nations of Europe, the empires of Southern Asia,
the frozen regions of Siberia, the sultry climes of
Africa, the forests and wilds of America, or even
to th • most diminutive islands, which are spread
over I ho Pacific Ocean, we behold Covetousness,
like ail insatiable monster, devouring human hap-
piness, and feasting on the sorrows and sufferings
of mankind. But who can calculate the amount
of misi-ry which has thus been accumulated? It
is more than probable, that the eighth part of the
human race has been slaughtered by the wars and
commotions which ambition has created; and
consequently, more than twenty thousand millions
of mankind have become its victims; that is,
twenty-five times the number of human beings
which compose the present population of the
globe. Along with the destruction of such a
number of rational beings, we have to take into
account the millions of mangled wretches whose
remaining existence was rendered miserable, the
numberless widows and orphans who were left to
mourn the loss of everything dear to them, the
thousands of infants that have been murdered,
and of females that have been violated, the famine
and pestilence, and the frightful desolations which
destroying armies have always left, behind them.
Many spots of the earth, which were beautiful as
Eden, have been turned into a hideous wilderness.
The most splendid and magnificent cities have
been set on flames or razed to their foundations,
and " their memorials have perished with them."
Even the lower animals have been drugged into
battles, and have become sufferers amidst the %rj
of combatants and the wreck of nations. Such
are some of the hideous desolations, and the vast
amount of human misery which covetousness has
created; for to avarice, leagued with ambition, is
to be attributed all the wars, commotions, and de-
vastations, which have ever visited the world.

Beside such wholesale robberies and murders,
covetousness is accountable for numerous public
frauds and mischiefs committed on a smaller scale
by the public agents and others connected with
the governments of every couutr}'. In the man-
agement of taxes, the collection of national reve-
nues, in contracts for the supply of armies and
navies, in claims for undefined perquisites, in the
bestowment of places and pensions, in soliciting
and receiving bribes, in the sale and purchase of
government property, — in these and numerous
other instances, frauds and Impositions are so fre-
quently committed, as to have become notorious
to a proverb. On such exuberant sources of
wealth, multitudes are rapidly enriched; and
while nations are ground down under a load of
taxation, and the industrious laborer and mecha-
nic groaning under the pressure of poverty, a
comparatively few are rolling in the chariots of
splendor, fattening on the sweat and blood of
millions, and feasting on the suflerings of man-
kind.

It is amazing with what ease and apathy, men
calling themselves Christians, will talk of the
prospect of war, in the view of enriching them-
selves with such public plunder. Scarcely any-
thing is more common, and yet nothing is more
diabolical. To wish for war, that trade may re-
vive and flourish, is to wish the destruction of ten
thousands of our fellow-creatures, that we may

THE EVILS WHICH FLOW FROM COVETOUSNESS.

53

add a few pounds to our hoarded treasures, or
have the prospect of embarking in a profitable
Bpeculation. Yet such wishes have been indulged
a thousand times, by many who profess to be the
followers of Christ.

3. Covctousness prevents the extension of the
Cfiristian Church, and the general imptovement of
Society.

It is by means of the proper application of mo-
ney, that the gospel is promulgated, sinners con-
verted, the Bible circulated, and the tidings of sal-
vation conveyed to heathen lands. Much still
remains to be done in tliese respects; for more
than 600,00(1,000 of mankind still remain enve-
loped in pagan darkness. If all the members of
the Christian Church were to contribute accord-
ing to their ability, this object (the conversion of
tiie world), however arduous and extensive, might
ere long be accomplished. But avarice interposes,
and withholds tli.ose resources which are requisite
for carrying the plans of Divine Mercy into ef-
fect. If wealth were not hoarded by covetous
professors of religion, or expended on their lusts,
our Missionary and other Philanthropic Societies
would soon have at their disposal, revenues twen-
ty times, at least, their present amount. How
many professed Christians are there, who are
wallowing in wealth, and yet contributing nothing
but the smallest fraction of their substance (and
sometimes nothing at all) to the service of God
and the extension of the Gospel Church! And
how many others are there, who, at their death,
leave twenty or thirty thousand pounds to their
friends, and even to distant heirs, without be-
queathing a single hundred — sometimes not a sin-
gle guinea, for promoting the conversion of
einners, and the extension of the Redeemer's
kingdom ! Such persons evidently belie their
Christian profession, and appear to have no Scrip-
tural idea of their obligation to " honor the Lord
with their substance," and of the great end for
which wealth has been bestowed.

By such conduct, they virtually prevent the
conversion of thousands, the reformation of the
world, and the approach of that period, when
"the knowledge of the Lord shall cover the earth,
and all flesh see his salvation." They declare, in
point of fact, that the hoarding of thousands of
pounds (of which they do not stand in need), is a
matter of more importance in their eyes, than
the universal propagation of religion, and the
eternal happiness of thousands of immortal be-
ings. Whatever profession they may make, what-
ever show of piety they may assume, they place
a barrier in the way of the progress of Chris-
tianity, and too plainly indicate, tiiat the love of
tlie world occupies a higher place in their hearts,
than the love of God.

By such conduct, the general improvement of
society is likewise prevented.

Before society arrives to that state of perfec-
tion, of which it is susceptible, much exertion and
manifold reformations are required. The univer-
fed instruction of all ranks requires to be est;ib-
lished on a more extensive and permanent basis
than it has ever yet been. Seminaries for the
education of the young, and likewise for those
more advanced in life, require to be multiplied at
least tenfold. Colleges and academies, of diffe-
rent descriptions, still remain to be established in
such numbers as to afford an adequate supply of
intelHqent teachers and ministers of the Gospel,
for diffusing both general and scriptural know-
ledge among all ranks of the community.

The physical condition of mankind, likewise
requires to be meliorated and improved. Many

of our towns and villages require lo be new-
modeled, and rendered clean, airy and salubrious;
and the condition of the mechanic and the labor-
ing poor, rendered more comfortable, and more
conducive to moral and mental improvement. All
which objects might, at no distant period, be fully
accomplished, were the superfluous wealth of the
professing Christian world properly directed, and
applied to its legitimate objects. But all such de-
signs are prevented from being brought into effect,
by the avarice of those who profess to have re-
nounced the world and its vanities, and to be
looking forward to a heavenly inheritance. There
can scarcely be a more glaring contradiction, than
that which such conduct and such professions
imply. But as this is a topic of peculiar interest,
I shall take occasion to enter into more minute
detail on another branch of our subject.

10. The evil of Covetousnes«, will further ap-
pear, if we consider, tahat would he the consequence
were this impure affection universally to prevail.

Every principle and every affection in human
beings, ought to be tried by the ultimate conse-
quences to which it naturally and necessarily
leads. On this ground, it might be shown, that
every violation of the Divine law leads to misery,
in one shape or another, both to the violator him-
self, and to all with whom he is connected. And
farther — that if any one commandment of the
law of God were reversed, or set aside, or univer-
sally violated, not only would the jiiost appalling
consequences ensue, but it would lead to the sub-
version of all order among intelligent agents, and
would ultimately produce the extermination of the
race of man.

The same, of course, may be affirmed of the
covetous principle. Were it to reign supreme in
the human heart, and to be universally acted
upon, it would soon lead to the utter destruction
of society. It would lead, in the first instance,
to universal fraud, deceit and falsehood; so that
no domestic nor public business, nor commercial
arrangements of any description, could be carried
on with the least degree of confidence. It would
next lead to universal rapacity and plunder, which
would produce a scene of turbulence and horror
in which no human being could enjoy for any
length of time, either happiness or repo.se. The
strong would seize upon the possessions of the
weak and defenseless, without the least remorse,
and deprive them of everything that tends to en-
joyment. Every one's covetous eye would be
directed to the possessions of his neighbor; and,
by a thousand insidious and malignant schemes,
or by open violence, everything would be seized
upon, and appropriated for the purpose of grati-
fying the covetous appetite. No one's life would
be secure for a single week, and murders would
be daily committed for the purpose of obtaining
the wealth and possessions of the opulent. Of
course, peace, and harmony, and kindness, would
be unknown among men; every man's covetous
heart be filled with malignity, and set against the
interests of his neighbor. In the progress of such
rapacity and plundering, wars of the most fero-
cious nature would take place. One nation
would invade the territories of another, for the
purpose of plunder; and, in the midst of the con-
tests for spoil, cities and towns would be demo-
lished; fruitful fields transformed into a scene
of desolation, and myriads of the human race
slaughtered in every land. Amidst such dreadful
commotions, the fields would be permitted to lie
waste and uncultivated, and human^beiugs would
be gradually diminished by slaughter, and univer-
sal famine, until, in the course of a geueration or

i>4

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

two, tho whole race would be extirpated from the
earth.

Such would evidently be the progress and the
dreadful eftects of the covetous principle, were it
to operate universally and unrestrained. Sucii ef-
fects, indeed, it lius already, to a certain degree,
produced; and the annuls of every nation under
heaven, bear witness to the melancholy truth. —
And, were it not, that it is counteracted and re-
strained in its operations by the overruling Provi-
dence of God, by the force of natural conscience,
and by the influence of Christian principles and
motives, it would soon transl'orni this globe into
an immense sepulcher, overspread with desolation
aud dead men's bones, and tit only for a habita-
tion to the boasts of prey. The very circum-
stance, that it has never yet produced such a ter-
rible effect, is an evident proof that a moral
governor superintends the affairs of this world,
and by his wise and merciful arrangements, sets
"restraining bounds" to the passions of men,
that his benevolent purposes in relation to our
race, may in due time be accomplished.

It is evident, then, that an affection which pro-
duces such debasement of miuJ, and wliich natu-
rally leads to such dismal aud appdli!ig conse-
quences, must eiabi.'ly withiu it the esse:nce of
almost every evil, and of every species of moral
turpitude; and, although it may appear compara-
tively liarmless, when confined to a narrow sphere,
and covered with a cloali of hypocrisy, yet it
only requires to burst its confinement, to be
blowu into a flame, aud to have free scope for its
destructive eiiergies, in order to undermine and
overturn the whole fabric of the moral universe.
This considaration deserves the serious attention
of every one who feels the least rising of such an
unhallowed passion, and should induce him to
exercise holy jealousy over himself, and to use
every Scriptural means to repress and counteract
its first emotions. His prayer to God should be
like that of the Psalmist, " Search me, 0 God,
and know my heart; try me, and know my
thoughts. Turn away mine eyes from beholding
vanity; incline my h-ici'l unto thy testimonies,
aad not to covetoasaeas, atd lead me in thy way
everlasting."

I might likewise have enumerated among the
evils produced by covetousn?ss, the host of vices,
and the anxious fears, and tumultuous passions
C0Qiiecte.d with this afiecti.'iu — its baneful influ-
ence on friend.s and iciutives, and on genera! so-
ciety; tliat it incapacitates the individual in whose
heart it reigns for enjoyiag substantial happiness;
that it was one of the impul-.ive causes of the
death of Christ; that, when fostered through life,
it becomes inveterate in old age, and retains its
strength and vigor, when almost every other vice
has withered aud decayed; and, that it has, to a
certain extent, prevented the union of the Chris-
tian church, and the affectionate intercourse of
its members. But without dwelling on these and
such particulars, I shall only observe,

In the last place, — that Covetousness indulged
and persisted in through life, infallibly leads to
misery in the life to come.

" Be not deceived," says an ambassador of hea-
ven, " ueither idolaters, nor thieves, nor covetous,
nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the
Kingdom of God." What a terrible aud appalling
denunciation, when contemplated in all its extent,
and its eternal consequences! Such characters
ihall not inherit the kingdom of God. And we are
expressly told, that they who are banished from
his kingdom, " shall be cast into the lake of fire
Ivhich burneth forever and ever;" and that " they

shall be punished with everlasting destruction
from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory
of his power." A covetous man is, therefore, ia
as direct a course to eternal misery, as the most
licentious profligate, or the most atrocious char-
acters. If men really believed in the realities of
an eternal world, aud in the certainty of such
terrible denunciations being accomjdisbed, how
would it make their whole frame tremble at the
awful prospect! But no hearts are harder than
the hearts of the covetous. They are surrounded
as with a wall of adamant, and fortified against
every admonition, so that neither the voice from
Mount Zion, nor the threatenings from Sinai, can
make the least impression; and the longer they
live in the world, the more impenetrable do they
become, untU, in the rigliteous juJgmeutof God,
they are sometimes given up to a hardness which
nothing will penetrate but the sharpness of " un-
quenchable fire." This is a consideration which
demands th6 serious attention of the young, and
of those in the prime of life. It shows, with
what care and holy caution, they ought to guard
against the fii-st emotions of every vicious pas-
sion, and particularly against the emotions Of cov-
etousness; for, if they be indulged, they will grow
with their growth, and strengthen with their
strength, until they become inveterate habits,
which no human power can eradicate.

I have already shown (see page 33), that the
covetous must necessarily be banished from the
kingdom of the just, because they are altogether
unfit for relishing its pleasures, or engaging in its
employments. But exclusion from the society
and tlie joys of heaven, is not the only punish-
ment they will sufler. They will be subjected to
positive misery; and, among other sources of
misery, they will be tormented with restless and
insatiable desires, which will always be raging,
and which will never be gratified. In the present
life, while covetous desires were raging, they
were partially gratified. But, in the future world,
gold, and silver, and splendid possessions, such as
are now the object of desire, will be forever beyond
their reach; and, consequently, they must suffer
all that is included in boundless desires and crav-
ing appetites, which are never to be gratified
Beside, all that is included in those stidking
representations of Scripture — " the worm that
never dies; the fire that is never quenched; weep-
ing and wailing, and gnashing of teeth; and the
blackness of darkness forever," will be the por-
tion of the ambitious aud avaricious sinners, who
are banished from the glories of the New Jerusa-
lem. Wljat will it then avail the covetous sinner,
that he had heaped up gold as the dust, and silver
as the stones of the field? or the ambitious sin-
ner, that he rolled on the wheels of splendor, and
fared sumptuously everyday? Will riches profit
in the day of wrath? Will the recollection of
bags of gold, aud chests of dollars treasured up
in this fleeting world for profligate heirs, alleviate
the anguish of the miser's soul in the place of
punishment? Will the gay and licentious world-
ling find his torments assuaged by revolving tha
idea, that he was transported to hell in a splendid
chariot? and that he left his degenerate offspring
to be conveyed with the same pomp and equipage
to the place of misery? Alas! such recollections,
instead of alleviating, will only enhance the un-
utterable anguish of the inhabitants of Tophe'
aud add new fuel to the fire which is never to be
quenched. Oh, that the sons of avarice and am-
hition, "were, wise, that they understood these
things," and that they would consider the eternal
cousequeuces of their present affections and con«

PRINCIPLES BY WHICH CHRISTIANS SHOULD BE DIRECTED

55

ductT Nothing can be more foolish than to pre-
fer shadows to realities, trifles to the most mo-
mentous concerns, fleeting baubles to an enduring
substance, riches that perish in tlie using to " a
treasure in the heavens that fadeth not," the
fashion of the world that passeth away, to an
"incorruptible inheritance, and an exceeding great
and eternal weight of glory." What is the iiope
of the hypocrite when God taketh away his soul?
Yea, "what will it profit a man, though he should

gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or
what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"
It is, therefore, the dictate of true wisdom, and
accordant with every rational principle, to mortify
every unholy affection, to despise the vain blau-
dishnients of the world, that lieth in wickedness,
to exercise contentment under the allotments of
Providence, and to aspire after the enjoyment of
that inheritance " which is incorruptible, and
that fadeth not away."

CHAPTER V.

ON THE PRINCIPLES BY WHICH CHRISTIANS SHOULD BE DIRECTED IN THE
APPLICATION OF TPIEIR WEALTH.

Thkr£ are, perhaps, few things connected with
tho social state, of more importance than the pro-
per distribution and application of wealth; yet
there is no subject about which so many foolish
and erroneous conceptions are entertained. Every
man seems, in this respect, to consider himself as
a kind of independent being, and to imagine that
he has full power, both physical and moral, "to
do with his own as he pleases." That he is in-
vested with a sovereign right, eitiicr to give or
withhold his money, as he thinks fit, and that no
one has authority to say to him, "what dost
thou?" Even Christians have not yet learned
the legitimate use and application of riches, not-
withstanding the pointed injunctions and the
specific principles on this subject laid down in the
word of God; and hence it has too frequently
been considered as no way inconsistent with the
profession of Christianity, for Christians to act,
in this respect, in accordance with the maxims of
general society, and the common practices of the
men of the world.

It is now more than time that other and nobler
views were entertained and acted upon by those
who profess to be followers of the lowly Jesus —
views accordant with the Instructions of their
Divine Master, and the admonitions of his holy
prophets and apostles. In order to a slight eluci-
dation of this subject, I shall, in the first place,
offer a few general remarks, connected with this
topic, — and, in the next place, inquire v/hat pro-
portion of their worldly substance, Christians
ought to consecrate to the good of society, and
the promotion of religion.

I. In reference to the first department of this
subject, the following general principles, among
many others, require to be recognized:

1 . God is the original source of all the riches we
enjoy.

" The earth belongs to Jehovah, and the fullness
thereof, the world and they that dwell therein.
Every beast of the forest is his, and the cattle
upon a thousand hills." "The silver is mine,
and the gold is mine, saith tho Lord of Hosts."
All the treasures of the universe were brought
into existence by His creating power, and dis-
tributed, in certain proportions, to all the ranks
of sensitive and intellectual existence which
people tho amplitudes of creation. To man he
assigned the productions of the field, the wealth
of the mineral kingdom, and the treasures of
the deep, and it is owing to his benevolent care
and overruling Providence, that any one is per-
VoL 1.— 40

mitted to procure such riches, and to enjoy
those comforts of which they are the sources.
Hence, it is declared by an inspired writer,
" Thine, 0 Lord, is the greatness, and the power,
and the glory; for all that is in the heavens and
in the earth, is thine. Thine is the kingdom, O
Lord, and thou art exalted above all. Both riches
and honor come of thee, and thou reignest over
all and in thine hand is power and might; and in
thine hand it is to make great, and to give strength
unto all." These are truths connected witli the
very idea of the existence of an Eternal and Inde-
pendent being, from whom creation derived its
origin; and yet they are overlooked by the greater
part of mankind, as if they were a species of in-
dependent beings, and as if their own powers alone
had procured them the treasures they possess.
The full recognition of this fundamental truth,
that "God is the original source of all riches,"
would introduce a most important change in the
vievi's of men with regard to wealth, and to the
purposes to which it ought to be applied; and
would produce a benign influence on all the
movements of the Christian and the moral world.

2. Kiches are given as a trust to be employed in
the service of Ghd, and for the good of men.

It is evident, from the very nature of the Di-
vine Being, that wealth, when bestowed, was in-
tended to be used in accordance with his will, and
in subserviency to the accomplishment of his
designs, in the moral government of the world.
In conducting the affairs of the moral system,
human beings are the agents be most frequently
employs; and the wealth he has put into their
hands has a powerful influence in accom])lishing
purposes either good or bad, according to the dis-
position of the agents. If he has intended, as his
word declares, that the revelations of his will
should be made knovcn throughout the world,
and that " the gospel should be preached to every
creature," money is one of the grand means by
which this important object is to be accomplished;
and, in the present stats and constitution of the
world, or according to the fixed principles of the
Divine Government, it is impossible that, without
this mean, such a design can be brought into
effect.* If he has distributed wealth in tiifferent
proportions, to different individuals, and, if it is
his intention to communicate happiness to his

* From what we know of the plan of the Divine Govern
ment, we have no reason to believe that any miraculout
interposition will take place to effectoale the objects to
which I allude. See Chapter VI.

66

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

creatures, and that a certain proportion of his
bounty should be enjoyed by all, (lien it must
evidently be his will, tliat those who abound in
riches, should "be ready to cojnmunicate," and
to impart a certain portion of them to those who
are in need. Hence it is commanded, " if thy
brother be waxen poor, and fallen into decay, then
thou shall relieve iiim. Thou shalt open thy
hand wide, and shalt surely lend him sufficient
for his need in that which he wauteth." "He
that hath pity upon the poor, lendeth unto the
Lord ; and that which he hath given, will he
repay him again." " Blessed is he that consider-
eth the poor, the Lord will deliver him in the
time of trouble." " Charge them that are rich
in this world, that thej' do good, that they be rich
in good works, ready to distribute, and willing to
communicate." Such injunctions are laid upon
the wealthy, not as a tax or a burden, but for the
purpose of calling forth into exercise the princi-
ple of benevolence ; of promoting a reciprocal
interchange of kindly ali'ections and good offices
between man and man; and for demonstrating
the '"uth and efficacy of our Saviour's Divine
maxim, " it is more blessed to give, than to re-
ceive."

Now, if riches, instead of being applied, in
part, to such purposes as now stated, are devoted
solely to base and selfish ends, to sensual gratifi-
cation, to foster a passion for worldly splendor
and aggrandizement, or to subserve the purposes
of bribery, political rancor, or party spirit — they
are consecrated to objects directly opposite to those
whicVi God has commanded, and determined to
accomplish; and, consequently, have a tendency
to frustrate, if it were possible, the plan of Diviue
Benevolence, and the regeneration of the world.

Since riches, then, are committed to us, as a
trust from God, to be employed in his service and
according to his will, every one who dares to
devote them solely to such sinister purposes, must
be considered as trampling on the authority of his
Maker, and setting at defiance the laws of Him,
whose sovereign will all the elements of nature,
and all the hosts of heaven obey; and, conse-
quently, subjects himself to the infliction of the
threatenings denounced against such in the Di-
vine word.

Our Saviour illustrates tliese positions in the
parable of the nobleman, who delivered to his
servants ten pounds, with the charge, " occupy
until I come," and in the parable of the " ta-
lents," which were given to " every one accor-
ding to his ability." These pounds and talents
evidently denote the powers, genius, wealth, or
authority, with which men are intrusted by their
Creator, and which ought to be consecrated to the
promotion of hl^ glory and the benefit of man-
kind. That we a. e accountable for the use we
make of such gifts, appears from the high rewards
conferred on the faithful servants, and from the
condign punishment inflicted on those who abused
or misapplied the talents committed to their trust;
•' Cast ye the unprofitable servants into outer
darkness, there shall be weeping and gnashing of
teeth. These mine enemies, who would not that
I sliould reign over them, bring hither and slay
■them before me." These are words of the most
awful import ; and the sufferings inflicted on
tliem will be felt in all their appalling and ete»ial
consequjnces, by those to whom they refer; and
therefore, they deserve the most serious consider-
ation of all those, who, in the spirit of pride and
Independence, imagine, that " they can do with
their own as they please." And, if riches be a
trust committed to us by God, to be employed in

his service, we are as much bound to apply tliera
to their legitimate use, as a servant to whonj
money is intrusted by his master, is bound to
apply it to the purpose for which it was intended,
and for which ho must render an account. And,
at that important day when the Son of man shall
appear iu his glor}', to call his professed servanta
to give an account of their stewardship — the
manner in which the wealth committed to our
care was expended, will then undergo a solemn
and impartial scrutiny in the presence of an as-
sembled world. And iiappy only will they be,
who shall be enabled to " give in their account
with joy, and not with grief," and receive the
approbation of the Great Master, "well done,
good and faithful servants, enter ye into the joy
of your Lord." In the description which our
Saviour gives of th'i solemnities of the final judg-
ment, the eternal destiny of the human race is
repriisented as depending upon the manner in
which they employed the wealth and iiiflu-uce,
with which they were intrusted : "depart from
me, ye cursed; for I was an hungered, and ye
gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me
no drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me not
in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick and in
prison, and ye visited me not: verily, I say unto
you, inasmuch as ye did it not to the least of
these, my brethren, ye did it not to me. And
these shall go away into everlasting punishment,
but the righteous into life eternal."

3. Christians are bound to dedicate their sub-
stance to the Lord,/ro7rt a consideration of the lorn
of Christ ill laying down kis life for their redemp-
tion.

The apostles, in all their writings, delight to
expatiate on the love of Christ, as comprising
within its range a hight and a depth a length and
a breadth, "which surpasses tlie grasp of human
Comprehension, and as being the most glorious
display of Divine mercy and benevolence, ever
made to our world." Enraptured with this sub-
lime idea, the apostle John exclaims, " Behold !
what manner of love the Father hath bestowed
upon us, that we sliould be called the sons of
God! In this was manifested the love of God to-
ward us, because he sent his only begotten Son
into the world that we might live through him.
Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that
He loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitia-
tion for our sins." This love demands the noblest
sacrifices we can make for the honor of God, and
for testifying our gratitude for the unspeakable
favors conferred upon us through the death of his
Son. Hence, the apostle Paul, in his own name
and in the name of all true Christians, declares,
" Tiie love of Christ constraineth us, because we
thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all
dead, and that he died for all, that they who live,
should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto
him who died for them and rose again^ In thia
passage, the phrase "constraineth us" imports,
being carried along, or borne away as with a
strong and resistless impulse, like that of a tor-
rent which sweeps away everything before it
The first Christians were so carried aloft as it
were on the wings of love and holy desire, that
all selfish aims and worldly considerations were
completely overpowered and subdued. They
considered their wealth and influence as whol'j
consecrated to the service of their Redeemer;
they forsook all their earthly possessions from
love to his name, and that they might promote
the interests of his kingdom. They took joy-
fully the spoiling of their goods, knowing, that
in heaven they had a better and more enduring

PRINCIPLES BY WHICH CHRISTIANS SHOULD BE DIRECTED.

57

Bubstanoe; they accounted "all things as loss in
comparison of the excellency of Christ Jesus,"
and reckoned the suflerings of the present life as
unworthy to be compared with the glory which
is to be revealed. Every Christian ought to be
animated with such noble principles and such
elevated views and afTections, if he claims a right
to be (Uslinguished by that sacred name. And,
if he is inspired with such hallowed emotions,
he will not " henceforth live unto himself," for
the mere gratification of his own appetites and
passions, or for his own ease, aggrandizement, or
secular interests, as if these were the chief objects
of their pursuit. But "he will live unto Him
who died for him and rose again." He will con-
Becrate his moral and mental powers, his wealth
and iniluencf^, and all the talents he possesses, to
the furtherance of the kingdom of Messiah, and
the extension of his glory through the world;
and, whatever has a bearing, however remote, on
this grind object, v.ill meet with his cordial ap-
probation and pccuidarij support. la promoting
such objects, he will not be guided by the narrow
and seltish principles of commercial policy, but
by the ardor of his love to the unseen Redeemer,
and by the consideration, that all he possesses was
derived from the Divine bounty ; and will say
with David, when he distributed his treasures for
rearing the temple of the Lord; " All things
come of The£, and of thine own have we given
thee."

II. Let us now inquire more particularly what
proportions of our worldly substance should be
directly consecrated to the service of God.

This is a point, which, in many cases, is diffi-
cult to determine; and in some instances, it must
be left to the consciences of professed Christians
to decide, as in the sight of God, and as amenable
to him — what portion of their riches should be
directly appropriated to his service. But there
are certain general principles which may be laid
down, by which, every one who has expansive
views of the importance of salvation, and the
nobleness and generosity of the Christian charac-
ter, may be directed in this matter; and by which
it may be made to appear, that ten times more
than has generally been allotted ought to be ex-
clusively consecrated to the honor of God, and
the regeneration of man. In addition to the three
proposiiions noticed above, the following general
maxuns may be stated; — 1. Wealth is of no use
only according to the manner in which it is em-
ployed. 2. It is by means of riches that the poor
are provided for, that the salvation of the gospel
is brought into effect, and that the moral world
will ultimately be enlightened and regenerated.
3. That we ought to give a portion of our sub-
stance, in some measure corresponding to the
importance and the magnitude of the object to
which it is devoted. 4. That a comparatively
small portion of wealth is adequate to procure
everything that is requisite to the true happiness
of man. 5. That all useless luxuries, and splen-
did equipage, intended only for mere pomp and
show, should be discarded bj' every Christian. 6.
That all, or, at least, the greater part of the
wealth which remains, after providing in a decent
and Christian-like manner for the comfort of our
families, should be devoted to the interests of
the Redeemer's kingdom, and the general im-
provement of the social stat(^, in subordination to
this grand object. 7. That our chief object in
acquiring riches should be, that we may have it
in our power to consecrate a large portion of it to
the furtherance of the grand objects to which I
allude. Taking the above and similar principles

for granted, we may now descend to the consi-
deration of a few particulars.

1. The proportion of wealth commanded to be
dedicated to the service of God, under the Jewish
economy, may be considered as involving a certain
principle, by which we maybe directed in similar
allotments under the Christian dispensation.

It is well known, that the tenth part of the pro-
duce of the Land of Canaan was required from
the people for the maintenance of the priests and
Levites. " Behold," saith God, " I have given the
children of Levi all the tenth of Israel for their
inheritance, for their service which they serve." *
This tithe the people paid both from the animal
and vegetable produce of their estates, from the
seed of the lands and the fruit of their trees, from
their goats, sheep, and cattle.f Out of this tithe
the Levites paid a tenth part to the priests, for
then* services connected with the tabernacle or
temple. t Beside this tithe which the people were
ordered to pay to the Levites, they were also to
pay a tenth part of the remaining nine parts of
that tithe to make a feast in the court of the
sanctuary, or in some apartment belonging to it.
At this feast, which was kept as an expression
of their gratitude to God for the bounties of his
providence, they were to entertain, along with
their own families, some of the Levites. § The
priests were the ministers of Jehovah, who super-
intended the offerings at his altar, and conducted
the worship of the sanctuary. The Levites were
dispersed among the other tribes throughout
every part of Canaan, and had forty-eight cities
allotted them, of which thirteen belonged to the
priests. Their principal office was, to instruct
the people in the law of God, and to preserve and
teach knowledge throughout the whole land. So
that the tithe of the produce of the land was ap-
pointed not only for the support of the priests, but
for the instructors of youth, and of all classes of
the people throughout the tribes of Israel.

Beside this regular tithe, the Jews were obliged
to abstain from all the fruits that grew on trees
new planted, for the first three years, which were
accounted as uncircumcised, and it was a crime
for the owners to appropriate them.|| The fruits
of the fourth year were devoted to the Lord: they
were either sent to Jerusalem, or, being valued,
they were redeemed by a sum equivalent paid to
the priest, so that the people did not begin to en-
joy the produce of their fruit trees until the fifth
year. They were likewise obliged every year to
offer to God " the first of all the fruits of the
earth." IT " When the head of a family," says
Saurin, "walked in his garden and perceived
which tree first bore fruit, he distinguished it by
tying on a thread, that he might know it when the
fruits were ripe. At that time, each father of a
family put that fruit into a basket. At length,
all the heads of families who had gathered such
fruit in one town, were assembled, and deputies
were chosen by them to carry them to Jerusalem.
These offerings were put upon an ox, crowned
with flowers, and the commissioners of the con-
voy went in pomp to Jerusalem singing these
words of the 122d Psalm, 'I was glad when they
said unto me, let us go up to the house of the
Lord.' When arrived at the city they sang these
words, 'Our feet shall stand within thy gates, 0
Jerusalem.' At length, they went into the tem-
ple, each carrying his offering on his shoulders,

* Numb, xviii. 21.

t l.evit xxvii. 30. 2 Chron. xxxi. 5, 6.

t Num. xviii. 25,28.

§ Ueut. xii. 17, 18; xiv. 22—27.

II Lev. xix. 23. % Ueut. ixvi. 2- 18.

58

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

the king himself not excepted, again singing,
' Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye liftP'l
Up, ye everlasting doors. Lift up your heads,
0 ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting
doors.' " The Jews were also obliged to leave
the corn " on the corners of the fields," for the use
of the poor,* and in order to avoid the frauds
which might be practiced in this case, it was de-
terniinod to leave the sixtieth part of the land as
a just proportion for the poor. The ears of corn
which fell from the hands in harvest, were de-
voted to the same purpose; and the Jews held
themselves obliged by this command of God, not
only to leave the poor such ears of corn as fell by
chance, but to let fall some freely, and of purpose
for them to glean. The produce of the earth,
every seventh year, belonged to the poor, at least
the owner had no more right than those who had
no property. t This command is express, and
the Jews have an idea of this precept, that they
pretend the captivity in Babylon was a punish-
ment for the violation of it. All debts contracted
among the Jews were released at the end of
every seven years; so tha{ a debtor that could not
discharge his debts within seven years, was, at
the end of that time, released from all obligation
to discharge it-t To all these offerings and ex-
penses are to be added extraordinary expenses for
sacrifices, oblations, journeys to Jerusalem at the
solemn feasts, the half-shekels to the sanctuary,
and various other items connected with the poli-
tical state and ceremonial worship of the Jews, so
that more than one-fourth, and perhaps nearly
one-half of their incomes was, in such ways, de-
voted to public and religious purposes.

Now, if the tenth part, at least, of the incosne
of every Israelite was to be devoted to such pur-
poses, it would seem to follow, that nothing less
than this proportion should be allotted by every
Christian under the gospel dispensation, for simi-
lar or analogous purposes. But it does not limit
us to this proportion; as there are obvious reasons
why it should be much greater under the New-
Testament economy. If the propagation of divine
knowledge within the narrow limits of Judea re-
quired such a proportion of the income of every
individual, while no missions were appointed to
surrounding nations; much more, it is evident, is
required under the present dispensation, when we
are commanded to " Go into all the world, and
preach the gospel to every creature," and when
more than six hundred millions of the earth's
population are still immersed in Pagan and Ma-
hometan darkness, ignorant of " the true God and
of Jesus Christ whom he hath sent." The exer-
tion now required ought to be in some measure
proportionate to the magnitude and extent of the
work to be accomplished, and would require an
expansion of heart, and the manifestation of a
spirit similar to that which was displayed on the
day of Pentecost, when "all that believed were
together and had all things common, and sold their
possessions and goods," and devoted them to the
cause of their Redeemer. If Christians be really
in earnest, as they ought to be, why should they
hesitate a moment on this subject? If they see
misery everywhere around them, and nmltitude*
perishing in their sins, if they behold hundreds of
millions of the heathen world, overspread with
moral and intellectual darkness, and perishing for
lack of knowledge, if even the rude inhabitants of
the Navigator's isles, are sending their urgent
petitions from afar, saying, "Send over mis-
sionaries and help us; " if they are saying, almost

• Lev. xii. 9,

t Lev. nv

t Ueut. XV 2.

in an agony, as they lately did to Mr. Williams,
when he promised to come to Britain for a supply,
— " We shall perhaps die, we shall die, we shal!
die, before you can return;" if Christians believa
that" the redemption of the soul is precious," and
that the eternal happiness of immortal minds so
' far surpasses in value, the fleeting honors of the
world, as the heavens in hight surpass the earth,
, why should they remain in apathy or halt be-
tween two opinions on this point? Let wealthy
Christians come forward with a noble spirit, and
I either consecrate a liberal portion of their riches,
with cheerfulness, for such objects, or take the
only consistent alternative — throw aside altogether
the Christian name; for a covetous Christian is a
nuisance in the church of God, and a contradic-
\ tion in terms.

I Let us now consider the sums that might b>
raised, supposing only one-tenth of income to be
set apart for the purposes of philanthropy ajid re
ligion. Supposing the population of Great Bri-
tain to amount to 16,000,000, and reckoning only
2,000,000 heads of families, or the eighth part of
the population to be connected with a Christiat
church; and supposing, farther, that only one-
fiftieth part of these, or 40,000, have incomes ave-
I raging £500; the tenth of these incomes woulf"
' produce a sum of £2,000,000. Supposing the
tenth part of the remaining population, 196,000,
to have incomes of £>-00 a year, the annual tith«
would be £3,920,000. Suppose the remaining
1,764,000, to have, at an average, £80 per annum
its tithes would amount to £14,112,000, so tha'
the wliole of this supposed annual tithe of incom
would amount to above twenty millions of pounds
which is more than forty times the amount of th
annual funds of the Bible, Missionary, and othe
philanthropic societies in Great Britain, which di
not amount to half a million. In this calculation
I have not taken into account a million or tw«
of grown-up individuals, belonging to the difte
rent families in the kingdom, who have separate
establishments from their parents, and who might
be supposed to contribute several millions of
pounds. Nor have I taken into the calculation
several thousands of the nobility and gentry, who
occupy the highest places of society — some of
whom could afford from one to ten thousand
pounds annually, and which would add a conside-
rable number of millions to the sum above stated.
If such sums could be raised, without subtract-
ing any substantial comfort from a single individ-
ual, how small is the number of Christians worthy
of the name, to be found in our country? since
the fiftieth, or even the hundredth part of this sum
can scarcely be raised among all the ranks and
denominations of Religious society- But much
more than even the above stated proportion ought,
in numerous instances, to be devoted to religion
and philanthropy. If, for examj)le, a person has
an income of £900 a year, I have no hesitation in
saying, that, if he wished to act as a steward un-
der God, for the distribution of his bounty, he
ought to consecrate, at lea.st, £400 annually to
the promotion of Christianity and general im-
provement. And will any one aver, that the re-
maining £500 is not sufficient to procure every
comfort that a rational or Christian character
ought to desire. But the whole £900, it may bb
said, is requisite for ths individual to keep up the
dignity of his station. If keeping up the pomp
and dignity of a station, is to be set in compel i
tion with the demands of religion, then let the
iiulividual take the world on his back and march
off' as far as he can from Christian society; for
such persons have too frequently been a pest to

PRINCIPLES BY WHICH CHRISTIANS SHOULD BE DIRECTED.

59

religious associations. Verily I say unto him, he
ahali have his reward; but a reward after which,
I trust in God, I shall never aspire. Let such re-
member the Divine adnionilion, " Ye cannot serve
God and Mammon." Tliere is an absolute in-
compatibility between the service of the one and
of the other; and he who is not prepared to give
up worldly maxims, pomp, and splendor, and to
devote his influence and his superfluous wealth,
to the cause of religion, ought n-ot to assume the
Cliristian name.

2. The voluntary contributions made at difTe-
rent times under the Jewish economy may be con-
sidered as a guide to direct us in the liberality
which should be displayed among Christians.

When the tabernacle was about to be reared in
the wilderness, there was a noble display of libe-
rality on the part of the people. "• They came,
both men and women, as many as were willing-
hearted, and brought bracelets, and ear-rings, and
tablets, all jewels of gold; and every man that
offered, offered an offering of gold to the Lord. —
And every man with whom was found blue, and

Eurple, and scarlet, and fine linen, and goats'
air, and red skins of rams and badgers' skins,
brought them. Every one that did ofier an offer-
ing of silver and brass, brought the Lord's offer-
ing; and all the women that were wise-hearted
did spin with their hands, and brought that which
they had spun, of blue, and of purple, and of
scarlet, and of fine linen. The rulers brought
onyx stones, and stones to be set for the ephod, and
for the breastplate, and spice, and oil for the light,
and for the anointing oil, and for the sweet in-
cense," &c.* Such was the holy ardor of both
sexes, and of all ranks of the people, in bringing
forward these voluntary offerings, that it was
judged expedient to issue a proclamation to re-
strain their liberality. " The people bring much
more than enough for the service of the work
which the Lord commanded to make. And Moses
gave commandment, and it was caused to be pro-
claimed without the camp, saying, — Let neither
man nor woman make any more work for the of-
fering of the sanctuary. "t On this occasion, the
amount of the offerings of gold and silver alone,
was twenty-nine talents, and 730 shekels of gold,
and 100 talents, and 1775 skekels of silver,+
which, reckoning according to the present value
of British money, would nearly equal the sum of
four hundred thousand pounds.^ To this sum
must be added the value of the vast quantity of
brass which was used in the construction of the
court and furniture of the tabernacle — the rich
embroitlcred curtains which covered it, and which
surrounded the court; the jewels that were set
in the High Priest's ephod and breastplate, and
various other materials and utensils which are
stated in the description of the sacred edifice — all
of which must have amounted to an immense
sum. Yet all this treasure was brought forward
with the greatest alacrity, by a nation that num-
bered little more than half a million of males,
from twenty years old and upward, and whose
whole population must have been inferior to that
of Scotland.

At the dedication of the tabernacle, some time
afterward, the offerings of the twelve princes, or
heads of the tribes of Israel, were likewise muni-

• Exod XXXV. 23-29 + Tb. xxxvi. 5, 6.

t Ih. xxxviii. 24, 26.

5 Bishop Cumberland ca.ciilaled the amount in English
coin, to be jGl82,568. But as tliis calculation was made
»bout a century a^o, this sum requires to be more than
ioubled to express the present value of British money.

ficent amounting in silver vessels to 2400 shekels
of the sanctuary, and in gold vessels to 120 she-
kels, which (reckoning the silver shekel at five
shillings, and the gold shekel at £30,* according
to the present value of British money), would
make £4200, or £350, for each of the princes. —
Beside these, there were likewise offered thirty-six
bullocks, and 216 sheep, goats and lambs, which
would amount to about £800 mom?. At tlie dedi-
cation of the Temple, Solomon offered a sacrifice
of 22,000 oxen, and 120,000 siieep,t which, in
value, was equal to more than £460,000, a sum
which is greater than the amount of the whole
funds of the "British and Foreign Bible Society,"
during the first nine or ten years of its existence.
When Hezckiah commenced a work of reforma-
tion among the people of Judah, similar costly
sacrifices were voluntarily brouglit forward by
the people. "The number of burnt- offerings
whicli the congregation brought, was 70 bullocks,
100 rains, 200 lambs; and the consecrated tilings,
600 oxen, and 3000 sheep;"which would equal in
value about £13,000. These, and qjher conse-
crated things, the pi'opic offered, '.t-h the greatest
cheerfulness and ;j -ity: " Foi as soon as the
commandment came abroad, the children of Israel
brought, in abundance, the first-fruits of corn,
wine, and oil, and honey, and all the increase of
the field, and the tithe of holy things, which were
consecrated to the Lord their God, and laid them
by heaps, "i so that Hezekiah and his princes,
when they saw the heaps which had been col-
lected from every part of the land, for four
months, were filled with gratitude, and "blessed
Jehovah and his people Israel." All these offer-
ings flowed froiTi the voluntary contributions of
the people; and, although the Almighty does not
need "to eat the flesh of bulls, or to drink the
blood of goats," yet we are commanded to offer
unto God thanksgiving, and to pay our vows to
the Most High. These offerings, in connection
with their typical references, were intended as a
manifestation of the gratitude of the people to
God for all his goodness, and an evidence of their
desire to co-operate with him in promoting his
merciful and gracious designs; and, with similar
views ought all the contributions and offerings of
Christians to be brought forward.

When Josiah, the great-grandson of Hezekiah,
made preparations for a solemn passover to the
Lord, " he gave to the people for the passover
offerings, 30,000 lambs and kids, and 3000 bul-
locks." "And his princes gave willingly to the peo-
ple, the priests and the Levites. Hilkiah, Zecha-
riah and Jehiel, rulers of the house of God, gave
to the priests, for the passover offering, 2600 small
cattle and 300 oxen. Conaniah also, and She-
maiah and Nathaneel, his brethren, and Hasha-
biah, and Jehiel, and Jozabad, chief of the Levites,
gave to the Levites for passover offerings, 5000
small cattle, and 500 oxen." The expense of all
these offerings, according to the value of such
property in the present day, would amount to
about one hundred thousand pounds, of which
60,000 was given by the king. The offerings of
the three rulers of the temple amounted to £13,400,
or £4350 to each ; and those of the six ch efs of the
Levites to £25,000, which is about £4166 to each

* About the beginning of last century the Jewish silver
shekel was valued at 2s. 6d. and the gold shekel at jC15,
corresjjoMding to the value of money at that period; but as
British money has increased in value since tfiM time more
than one-half, the silver shekel ought not to be vahied at
less than 5s. nor the gold one at less than £?0 of British
money at its present standard. — See Num. vii. 85-88.
t2C'iron, vii. 5. t2 Chron. xxix. 32; xxxi. 5-7.

60

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

individual, whicli must certainly be considered as
munificent donations, when we consider, that they
were contributed only for one particular solemni-
ty.* And let it also be remembered, that they
were all volunlary otFerintjs, independent of the
regular lithe and other contributions required
from Jewish worslii|)ers. Where have we such
munificent donations from those members of tlie
Chrislian church who have incomes of several
thousands a year? If two or three philanthropic
individuals, in the course of a generation, bestow
such contributions for the interests of religion, it
is considered as a kind of phenomenon in the
Christian world. When the Israelites returned
from Babylon to Jerusalem in the days of Ezra,
we are inforuii'^d by that sacred historian, that,
"when he weiglicd the silver and the gold, and
the vessels, the offering of the housa of the Lord,
which the king and liis lords and all Israel there
present had oderi^d," it amounted to "650 talents
of silver, and si'ver vessels an hundred talents,
and of gold an hundred talents; also twenty basins
of gold, of a thousand drams, and two vessels of
fine copper, precious as gold." The whole value
of this dedicated treasure, calculated at the rate
formerly stated, would amount to £761,250.t

But, the most munificent donation of this kind
anywhere recorded, is that of David for the pur-
pose of rearing a temple for the worship of Jeho-
vah. In chapter xxii, of the first book of Chro-
nicles, verse 14, we are informed, that David '"in
his trouble prepared for the house of the Lord an
hundred thousand talents of gold, and a thou-
sand thousand talents of silver: and of brass
and iron without weight;" and in chapter xxix,
3-9, it is stated, that beside this sum there were
given " three thousand talents of gold, of the
gold of Ophir, and seven thousand talents of re-
fined silver to overlay the walls of the houses."
His princes, captains, and tlie chief of the fathers
likewise " ofibred willingly" to the amount in
gold of " five thousand talents and ten thousand
drams, and of silver ten thousand talents, and of
brass eighteen thousand talents, and one hundred
thousand talents of iron." "^I'ho whole of these
offerings, beside the brass, and iron, amounted to
108,000 talents of gold, and 1,017,000 talents of
eilver. Now, as the talent of gold has been esti-
mated by some at £5425, and the talent of silver
at £342 — the whole of this treasure would not be
mucli less than a iliousand millions of pounds ster-
ling. And we are told, that, in so far from being
given with a grudge, " the people rejoiced, for
that they offered willingly; because with perfect
heart they offered willingly to the Lord; and
David the king also rejoiced with great joy, and
blessed the Lord before all the congregation,"
ascribing the whole of this treasure, and the libe-
ral dispositions of the donors to Him who is tha
creator of heaven and earth, and the original
source of every blessing. " All things come of
thee, and of thine own have we given thee. All of
this store we have prepared' to build thee an house,
for thy holy name Cometh of thine hand, and is
all thine own.''

Several other examples might have been pro-
duced to illustrate the liberality which was dis-
played under the Old Testament economy, espe-
cially when the people were stirred up to engage
in a work of reformation; but the above may
suffice to show that much more liberal offerings

• In the estimate uf the value of the offerings here given,
£lO is allowed for the price of a bullock, £4 tor each of the
small cattle, X2 for a sheep, and XI for each of the lambs
and kids. !?ee 2 Chron. xxx. 7-10.

t Ezra vjii. 25-27.

were voluntarily brought forward In the Jewish
church than have generally been contributed
under the Christian dispensation. And will any
one presume to deny, tliat the liberality displayed
by pious worshipers among the Jews, oughl to be
imitated by the faithful under the New Testament
economy? The examples of the pious Israelites,
in this respect, were uu:loubtedly intended as a
pattern to the Chri-'lian church, and the ofieringa
then made may be considered as typical or emble-
matical of the more splendid offerings which
would be exhibited by New Testament saints,
when " God shall appear in his glory to men, and
buihl up the walls of his Jerusalem," and cause
"Zion to appear beautiful and glorious in the
eyes of the nations." Lot it not, however, bo
imagined, that we are merely to imitate the Old
^i'lsttment saints, and to rise no higher in our
contributions than what was requisite nnder that
economy. For Clirisfians are called to a much
more arduous and extensive work than the nation
of Israel. The field of Divine labor in which
Christians are called to be employed, " is the
World;" and the tenth p;irt of this field has not
yet been subdued or cultivated. And the call
addressed to tite church by Him who hatji all
power and authority in heaven and un eJirth, is,
•' Preach the gospel to every creature ■" In pro-
portion, then, to the superior grandeur and mag-
nificence of the enterprise shot'.id be the munifi-
cence of the contributions by v^liich it is to be
accomplished. In this enterprise-, Chrif,tian fe~
males as well as males onglii, to be actively en-
gaged; and a noble example is set them by the
female Israelites, who took an active part in pre-
paring materials for the t'^bernp.cle in the wilder-
ness. " All the women that were wise-hearted,
did spin with their hands, a'.d brought tliat which
they had si)un of blue, and of purple and of scar-
let and of fine linen. 1'hiy came both men and
women, as many as vvcre willing-liearted, and
brought bracelets ajd ear-rings and tablets, all
jewels of gold, and offered them to the Lord."
In this work of fai'.n and labor of love, every hu-
man being, male aiKi female, young an.d old, ought
to take a part, uuti' the fabric of the Christian
church be 'jo'opletely reared, and established in
every rcgiDr. of the globe.

3. The proportion of wealth which Christians
should ur-propriate for tlie service of God, and the
rencvaf.on of the world, may be deduced from the
pridiciiGns of the ancient prophets.

In those prophesies which have a respect to the
fi'turo glory of Messiah's reign, there are fro-
qnent references to the treasures which will be
brought forward to promote the prosperity of his
kingdom. In the seventy-second Psalm, which
contains predictions respecting the prosjierity and
universal extension of the kingdom of the Re-
deemer, we are told, that " the kings of Tarshish
and of the Isles shall bring jjre.scnts; the kings of
Sheba and vSeba shall offer gifts," and that " the
gold of Sheba" shall be brought as an offering to
his service — evidently implying that the con-
verts from among the Gentiles would consecrate
a portion of their wealth for the promotion of
his kingdom, and that the treasures, tlius devoted,
would be large and munificent in proportion to
the rank and rich'^s of ths donors. In the sixti-
eth chapter of Isaiah, this subject is introduced,
and exhibited in every variety of aspect. That
portion of prophesy has for its object to delineate
the prosperitj' of the gospel church in the latter
days, its universal extension, the joy of its mem-
bers, and the rich and diversified gifts which
would be voluntarily brought forth and devoted to

PRINCIPLES BY WHICH CHRISTIANS SHOULD BE DIRECTED

61

Jts interests. " The abundance of the sea," or
the wealth conveyed in ships, " shall be converted
unto thee, the forces," or, as it sliould bo render-
ed, " the wealth of the Gentiles shall come unto
thee; the multitudes of camels sliail cover thee,
the dromedaries of Midian and E[)hah; all they
from Sheba sliall corne; they shall bring gold and
incense, and shall show forth the praises of the
Lord." Camels and dromedaries constitute tlie
principal riches of a portion of Arabia, wliere the
descendants of Midian and Ephah resided; and
the country of Sheba was distinguisiied for its
gold Hence we are told by the prophet Ezekiel,
"the merchants of Sheba traded at the fairs of
Tyre in sj)ices, in gold, and in all precious
stones." * " The flocks of Kedar shall be gath-
ered together unto thee; the rams of Nebiaotli
shall minister unto thee; they siiall come up with
acceptance upon mine altar, and I will glorify the
house of my glory." As the chief wealth of tiie
Arabians consisted in tlieir camels and dromeda-
ries, so the wealth of the inhabitants of Kedar
consisted chiefly in their flocks, in which they
traded with the merchants of Tyre as stated by
the prophet, " The Arabians and all tlie princes
of Kedar traded with thee in rams and lambs and
goats." t

These descriptions plainly intimate, that in
whatever commodities the riches of any people
consist, the converts of Zion will bring a large
portion of these treasures, as an expression of
Uieir gratitude, to promote the honor of God, and
the extension of his kiugdom; and that they will
consider it as a matter of course, when they make
a profession of their faith in the Redeemer and
enter the gospel church, that they will bring along
with them their worldlj' substance to be devoted
to his service. This is likewise stated in the fol-
lowing passage: "Surely the isles shall wait for
me, and the ships of Tarshish first, to bring thy
sons from far, their silver and their gold with them
unto the name of the Lord thy God, and to the
holy One of Israel, because he hath glorified
thee." The grand motive which will animate
the hearts of these converts is here expressed —
^Because he hath glorified thee." Tlieir hearts
will be so inflamed and expanded with a sense of
tlie grace and condescension of the Redeemer,
with the importance of the great salvation, and
with the high dignity to which they are exalted as
"the sons of Jiod," that they will consider the
consecration of their earthly treasures as nothing
more than a small expression of their gratitude
" to him who loved them aud washed them from
their sins in his own blood, and who hath made
them kings and priests to God and his Father."
It is farther stated as a display of the munificence
of Zion's converts at that period, and of the eter-
nal and spiritual grandeur of the church: — "The
glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee, the fir-
tree, the pine-tree, and the box together, to beau-
tify the place of my sanctuary, and I will make
the place of my feet glorious." This description
may denote, that the temples reared for the wor-
ship of Jehovah, and everything connected with
his service, will be beautified with every chaste
ornament befitting the sanctity of his ordinances,
and the enlightened views and improved condition
of the citizens of Zion. And it may likewise in-
timate, that persons endowed with splendid accom-
plishments, extensive knowledge, persuasive elo-
quence, and with heavenly dispositions, will be
raised up to adorn the Church of God, and to dis-
play the beauties of holiness, as the timber of the

different kinds of trees here mentioned, adorned
tlie sanctuary and the most holy plaee in the tem-
ple of Solomon. In both these respects, the
riches of Zion's citizens will be required, and it
will be abundantly supplied.

The above stated predictions, and several othera
which might have been quoted, evidently show,
that, in New-Testament times, when God is about
" to appear in his glory to men," and " to repair
the desolations of Zion," immense treasures of
all descriptions will be voluntarily contributed by
her converts to promote her prosperity and to
accomplish the purposes of Divine benevolence.
All that has hitherto been given for the support
of the true church of Christ, will bear no pro-
portion to the vast treasures which will tiiun be
appropriated for promoting her extension and
glory; for they will then be increased at least a
hundred fold. Hence it is declared in a subse-
quent passage of this prophesy: "For htass I
will bring gold, and for iron I will bring silver,
and for wood brass, and for stones iron." It ia
added, "I will also make thy officers peace, and
thine exactors righteousness." The superinten-
dents or overseers of the church will be " men
fearing God and hating covetousness,'^ and " not
given to filthy lucre," so that the wealth conse-
crated to its use will be properly distributed, and
faithfully applied to the ends for which it is ap-
propriated. In this respect, they will form a
striking contrast to many office-bearers that have
appeared in the church at diiTerent periods, who
are characterized by the prophet, as " greedy
dogs that can never have enough, and shepherds
that cannot understand, who look to their own
way, every one for his gain from his quarter."
And whether this character may not apply to
many in our day, demands the serious conside-
ration of some of those who have been invested
with the sacred otfice. *

Now, if it is clearly predicted, that in the latter
ages of the church a vast proportion of wealth
will be devoted to the interests of religion, it be-
comes us seriously to consider, whether we ought
not, at this moment, to realize the accomplish-
ment of such predictions, by coming forward,
with enlarged hearts and munificent offerings, to
accomplish the gracious designs of the Most
High. What a high honor would it be, far sur-
passing every earthly distinction, to be considered
as the special objects to which ancient prophesy re-
fers, and that the Omniscient Jehovah should have
us in his eye when he communicated his will, in the
days of old, to the inspired prophets ! Wiiat a digni-
fied privilege is it that the great God who has all
the treasures of the universe at his command,
should condescend to make us " workers together
with him" in accomplishing his merciful and
beneficent designs, and to accept of the wealth
we possess, as the means by which his eternal
purposes are to be brought into effect! Can any
other application of our riches procure us higher

* Ezek. zxvii. 22.

tibid., ver. 21.

* Dr. STosheim states, with regard to the conduct of the
bishops and presbyters of the thini century, that "though
several yet continued to exhibit to the worli) ilhistrions ex-
amples of primitive piety and Christian virlne, yet many
were sunk in luxnry and voliiptuoasness, puffed U|> with
vanity, arfo^ancp. and ambition, possessed with a spirit of
contention and discord, and addicted to many other vices,
that oast an nndeserved reproach upon the holy reli^'ion of
which they were the unworthy [irotessors and ministers."
The same "author, in his history of the sixteenth centnry,
states, "that the greatest part of the bishops and canon*
passed their days in dissolute mirth and luxury, and squan-
dered away in the gratification of their lusts and passions,
that wealth which had been set apart for charitable and
religious purposes."

62

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

honor or felicity, either in time or through eter-
nity? And it is only our superfluous wealth
which he demands, while he leaves us everytliing
requisite to ail the sensitive enjoyments which a
rational and immortal soul ought to desire. If
we had right views of the true use of riches, and
of the noble ends that may, and ought to be ac-
complished by them, we should esteem it our
highest privilege and delight to consecrate all we
possess to the glory of God, and the promotion of
the best interests of mankind. We should feel a
pleasure, not to be compared with selfish gratifi-
cation, in beholding tlie Divine plans gradually
accomplishing, in witnessing the diminution of
moral evil and wretchedness, the expansion of the
human mind by the propagation of Divine know-
ledge, and happiness diffusing itself among all
ranJts, and in eveiy region of the globe. Let
Christians, then, seriously consider these things,
and ifrouse themselves from that apathy and indif-
ference into which they have been so long sunk,
with respect to the legitimate application of their
worldly treasures. Let them consider whether
the transitory pomp of this world, and " the honor
which Cometh from men," ought to be set in com-
petition with the prosperity of Zion, and " the
honor which cometh from God alone." Let them
consider whether "the lust of the eye and the
pride of life," costly furniture and splendid equi-
pages, ought to be preferred to " beautifying Je-
hovah's sanctuarj^, and making the place of his
feet glorious;" in short, whether selfish gratifica-
tions, and " things seen and temporal," ought to
be exalted above an incorruptible inheritance, and
"those things which are unseen and eternal."

Let us consider, for a moment, the gross
amount of what might be, and what ought to be
raised, in Great Britain alone, for the purposes
of religion and philanthropy. I have already
stated, on the ground of a very low estimate (p.
58), that more than twenty millions of pounds
might be raised by devoting one-tenth of income to
such objects. But as there are multitudes of indi-
viduals who ought to devote the one-half of their in-
comes, when large, to the service of God — on the
principles now recognized and adverted to in the
language of ancient prophesy — we ought not to
expect less than a hundred millions of pounds
annually, were wealthy Christians to consider
themselves as stewards for God, and to act in a
manner worthy of the Christian name. It is a
disgrace to that sacred name that so little has
hitherto been raised for the great objects to which
money should chiefly be devoted. 'SihaW fifty mil-
lions of pounds be annually wasted, within the
limits of the British Isles, in the purchase of in-
toxicating liquors? Shall hundreds of millions
be raised for carrying forward the purposes of
ambition and warfare? and shall only ?ifew drop-
pings of overflowing wealth, the mere lees or scum
of abundant riches, be devoted to the noblest and
most important objects that can ei^age the at-
tention of man? Forbid it heaven! That such
has hitherto been the case, that such is the case
at the present moment, is perhaps one of the most
glaring inconsistencies, and one of the foulest
blots that disfigures the Christian character and
the Christian church.

It is now time that such inconsistencies ana
such stains were wiped away from the face of the
religious world, and that the followers of Jesus
begin to act in consistency with their high charac-
ter and their heavenly calling. If we refuse to
come forward with our treasures at the call of
God, he may be provoked to realize, in our expe-
rience, that denunciation recorded in the chapter
to which we have adverted. " The nation and
kingdom that will not seiTe thee (namely, the
church), shall perish, yea, those nations shall be
utterly wasted." This denunciation immediately
follows upon this declaration, " Thy gates shall
be open continually, that men may bring unto
thee the wealth of the Gentiles, and that their kings
may be brought." If we hesitate long in coming
to a decision on this point, GoJ niay soon confer
the honor of accomplishing his designs upon
other tribes and nations whom we now despise^
Many of the Christians in the Northern States
of America, are now beginning to exert them-
selves with a noble generosity in the cause of
Christian improvement. Even the inhabitants
of the Society Isles — so lately immersed in all the
ignorance, superstition, and vices peculiar to the
savage state, are contributing of their oil and
other productions of their country, instead of
money, for carrying forward missionary enter-
prises among other unenlightened tribes; and they
are perhaps at this moment contributing more in
this way, in proportion to their numbers and their
wealth, than the inhabitants of Britain. The
natives of the Navigators' islands, lately deemed
so ferocious that mariners were afraid to land
upon their coasts, are now lifting up their voices
from afar, and imploring missionaries to instruct
them in the knowledge of salvation, and offering
whatever they can afford of their substance for
this purpose. And, ere long, these and other in-
habitants of the Isles of the Pacific, may bring
their valuable treasures "to beautify the sanctu-
ary of God," and to promote the extension of his
kingdom. For, such persons, and such localities
come within the range of prophetical descrip-
tion " Surely the isles shall wait for me — the isles
afar off that have not heard my fame, neither
have seen my glory, and they shall declare my
glory among the Gentiles." "Sing unto the
Lord a new song, and his praise from the ends of
the earth, ye that go down to the sea, the isles,
and the inhabitants thereof; let the inhabitants of
the rock sing; let them give glory to the Lord,
and declare his praise in the islands." Let British
Christians, then, rouse themselves from their'v
lethargy, and shake themselves loose from every
covetous affection; let them come forth with
cheerfulness and alacrity, with their treasures in
their hands, to be consecrated to the glory of God
and the renovation of the world; let them trample
under foot, with a noble heroism, every selfish
maxim, and the fashion of this world that passeth
away, and account it their highest felicity and
honor to be instrumental in furthering the plans
of Divine mercy and beneficence; and great
shall be their reward. For they who are the in
struments of turning many to righteousness,
"shall shine as the brightness of the fii-mament, and
as the stars forever and ever."

CHAPTER VI.

ON THE BENEFITS WHICH WOULD FLOW TO THE WORLD, WERE COVE-
TOUSNESS UNDERMINED AND AN OPPOSITE PRINCIPLE PREVAILING IN
CHRISTIAN SOCIETY.

Were the covetous principle completely under-
mined, and, consequently, were wealth applied to
its legitimate objects, accordijig to the intention
of the Creator, — everytliing requisite to promote
the physical comfort, and tlie moral and intellec-
tual enjoyment of man in this world, and his
preparation for a future state of happiness,
might, at no distant period, be speedily ef-
fected. Even the physical aspect of the globe
might be renovated, and its barren deserts trans-
formed into a scene of fertility and beauty, so that
"the wilderness and the solitary place" might be
made "to rejoice and blossom as the rose."
Although the inordinate love of money is " the
root of all evil,''' yet the proper distribution of it,
on the foundation of Christian principles, may be
pronounced to be the source of all good.

We have already shown, that the almost uni-
versal prevalence of covetousness, has been the
cause of most of the wars and devastations which
have convulsed the world, and the source of most
of the evils and sufferings under which the human
race have groaned in every age. And it might
likewise be demonstrated, that the proper appli-
cation of wealth would go far to xmdermine, and
ultimately to destroy all such evils, and to diffuse
among all ranks, a degree of happiness and com-
fort which has never yet been enjoyed in any
period, since man first violated the law of his
Creator. It is scarcely conceivable, at first view,
what innumerable benefits, of every description,
miglit be conferred on our fellow-men, and on
the world at large, by an application, on liberal
and Christian principles, of the riches which we
at this moment possess. And, we may rest
assured, that while we refuse to apply our trea-
sures to the objects to which I allude, we do
everything in our power to frustrate the designs
of our Creator in bestowing upon us such trea-
sures, and to counteract the benevolent operations
of his moral government.

A work of immense magnitude, however, re-
quires to be accomplished, and vast exertions are
indispensably requisite, before physical and moral
en'i can be undermined, and the way prepared for
the universal improvement of mankind, and the
spiritual regeneration of the world. But man
has moral and intellectual powers and treasures
of wealth, fully adequate to the enterprise, ardu-
ous and e.xpensive as it is; and, under the agency
of the Divine Spirit, who is promised to work in
us both "to will and to perform the good pleasure
of God," he is able to accomplish everything to
which we allude, provided he is willing to con-
secrate his energies and his treasures to this work
of faith and labor of love.

But, let us now attend more particularly to
some departments of the xrork to be accomplished,
und to the means to bring it into effect.

1. Were covetousness undermined, and an op-
posite priuciplo acted upon, abundant provision

would be made for the external confort of the poor
and destitute.

The God of nature has displayed his exuberant
goodness toward our world in every age, in " giv-
ing rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons," and
in supplying the inhabitants of every clime with
what is requisite for their subsistence and com-
fort; though the earth has yielded the harvests of
six thousand years, it has never yet lost its fer-
tility, but pours forth its fruits, every autumn, in
rich abundance; and could afford sustenance for '
hundreds of millions more than have ever, at any
one time, traversed its surface, since the days of
Noah. Yet we find thousands and ten thousands
pining in poverty and want; not only in bleak
and barren deserts, but in the most fertile coun-
tries, and in the midst of plenty and splendor;
and, in some instances, absolutely perishing for
lack of the necessaries of life, while pride and
opulence are rioting within their view in luxuri-
ous abundance.

At this very moment in Ireland, and especially
in the county of Limerick, the poor are literally
djing of want by hundreds. "The present state*
of the poor in Ireland," says a member of Parlia-
ment, " is terrible not only to behold, but even to
contemplate. In this neglected country, the poor
are thrown on the industrious classes for relief in
their wretchedness, as the rich not only guard
their mansions by high walls and surly porters,
but actually drive the poor creatures awaj^ with
dogs. In America, clearing the estates, means
cutting down the timber, but here it means, cut-
ting down human life. The poor, when driven
from their homes, have no asylum to fly to, but
to leave their country, or lie down and die."

Mr. Ingles, in his "Journey throughout Ire-
land, in lti34," gives the following description of
the wretchedness he witnessed, in the same dis-
trict, to which we now allude.

" Some of the abodes I visited, were garrets,
some were cellars, some were hovels on the
ground-floor, situated in narrow yards or alleys.
1 will not speak of the filth of these places; that
could not be exceeded in places meant to be its re-
ceptacles. Let the worst be imagined, and it will
not be beyond the truth. In at least three-fourths
of the hovels which I entered, there was no fur-
niture of any description, save an iron pot, no ta-
ble, no cliuir, no bench, no bedstead — two, three,
or four little bundles of straw, with, perhaps, one
or two scanty or ragged mats, were rolled up in
the corners, unless when these beds were found
occupied. The inmates were, some of tliem, old,
crooked, and diseased, some younger, but ema-
ciated, and surrounded by starving children, some
were sitting on the damp ground, some standing,
and some were unable to rise from their little straw
heaps. In scarcely one hovel, could I find even a

• November, 1835.

(63)

64

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

potatoe. In one which I entered, I noticed a
small opening leading into an inner room. I
lighted u piece of paper at the embers of a turf
which lay in the chimney, and looked in. It was
acellur, wholly dark, and about twelve feet square:
two bundles of straw lay in two corners; on one
sat a bod-ridden woman; on another lay two
naked children — literally naked, with a torn rag
of some kind thrown over tliem both. But I saw
worse than even this. In a cellar which I en-
tered, and wliich was almost quite dark, and slip-
pery with damp, I found a man silling on a little
sawdust. He was naked; he had not even a shirt;
a filthy and lagged man was around him. This
man was a living skoleion; the bones all but pro-
truded through llie skin; he was litprally starving.

" In place of visiting forty hovels of this de-
scri|Hion, I migiit have visited hundreds. In
place of seeing, as I did, hundreds of men, wo-
men, and children, in the last stage of destituUon,
I might have seen thousands. I entered the alleys
and visited the hovels, and climbed the stairs at a
venture; and I have no reason to believe that the
forty which I visited were the abodes of greater
wretchedness than the hundreds winch I passed by.
I saw also another kind of destitution. The indi-
viduals I have yet spoken of were aged, infirm, or
diseased; but there was another class fast ap-
proaching infirmity and disease, but yet able and
willing to earn their subsistence. I found many
hand-loom weavers, who worked from five in the
morning until eight at night, and rectrved from a
task-master, from half a crown to foui shillings a
week. Many of these men had wives and fami-
lies; and I need scarcely say, that confinement,
labor, scanty subsistence, and despair, were fast
reducing these men to the condition of the others,
upon whom disease and utter destitution had al-
ready laid their hands. The subsistenct of these
men consisted of one scanty meal of dry potatoes
daily." "To keep the bodies and souls of these
miserable creatures together, many a humane
citizen contributes more than the noble owner of
all the property."

Yet all this happens in a Christian landl
where thousands are wallowing amidst overflow-
ing wealth!

In the city of Naples, there are above 30,000
persons, distinguished by the appellation Lazsaro-
ni, the greater part of whom have no other home
than the earth for a floor, and the sky for a ceil-
ing, who sleep every night under porticoes, piaz-
zas, or, any other kind of shelter they can find. —
Although they are the objects of detestation to
travelers, yet they are in fact merely the poorer
class of laborers, who, attached to no particular
trade, are yet willing to work, and to take any
job that is offered. If they are idle, it is not their
own fault; since they are continually running
about the streets begging for employment. If
they are ignorant and debased, and frequently ad-
dicted to pilfering, it is more their misfortune than
their crime; for no provision has been made for
their instruction, nor arrangements for sup-
plying them with the work they are willing to
perform; although they are surrounded with
12,(Ji)0 ecclesiastics living in opulence and splen-
dor, and wilh numerous nobility rioting in extra-
vagance upon princely fortunes. Those of them
who have wives and families live in the suburbs
of Naples, near Pcnsilippo, in huts, or in caverns
or chumbers dug out of that inountain.

These people, however, wretched as they are,
have had a certain degree of moral influence. In
opposition to the measures of the court, they pre-
vei.ted the estajlishraent of the inquisition ; and

such was their disinterested patriotism, that they
generously offered their services to save their .sink-
ing country from the French invasion, while the
nobles had meanly abandoned the breach and for-
saken their sovereign; and, it was merely owing
to the want of leaders, that they reluctantly sub-
mitted to inaction. To what causes, then, but to
criminal apathy and avarice, are to be imputed
the destitute and miserable state of these Lazza-
roni, — since the surrounding country is fertile
and delightful; since wealth is flowing in streams
around them, and the glitter of pomp and equip-
age is continually before their eyes.*

Even in the British metropolis, and other cities
of the empire, scenes not altogether dis.siinilar to
the above, are fiequenlly to be found. Accord-
ing to the statements of Dr. Colquhoun, tliere are
in London upward of 20,000 persons wlio rise
every morning without employm'^nt, and rely for
maintenance on the accidents of the day.

Were we to inspect all the narrow lanes, the
cellars, garrets, and hovels, connected with Liver-
pool, Manchester, Bristol, Newcastle, Dublin,
Cork, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Dundee, and other
British towns and cities, we should find the most
appalling scenes of destitution and wretchedness,
of which three-fourths of our population, and es-
pecially the higher ranks, can form no concep-
tion. Indeed, wherever we turn our eyes, whether
in the country, the village, or the crovrded city,
we never fail to behold multitudes of the blind,
the lame, the diseased, and even the healthy, in a
state of penury and destitution — many of them
only half-covered with rags, and exposed, houseless
and forlorn, to the nipping frosts, and to all the in-
clemenc'^s of the season. Many of these wretched
creatures are immoral and depraved; but the cause
of this is not so much to be attributed to the indi-
viduals themselves, as to. the arrangements of gene-
ral society. Society has never yet provided for
such, the means of education, of moral training,
of employment, or what is necessary for their
comfortable subsistence; and general society is,
therefore, accountable in part, both for the misery
they suffer, and the crimes they occasionally
commit.

An American writer, who very lately visited
Italy, and other countries in Europe, makes the
following statements in reference to the city of
Naples. " I have been struck repeatedly with the
little value attached to human life in Italy. I have
seen several of these houseless Lazzaroni literally
dying in the streets, and no one curious enough
to look at them. The most dreadful sufferings,
the most despairing cries, in the open squares, are
passed as unnoticed as the howling of a dog. The
day before yesterday, a woman fell, in the Tole-
do, in a fit, frothing at the mouth, and livid with
pain; and though the street was so crowded that
one could make his way with difficulty, three or
four ragged children were the only persons seen
looking at her."t

It i.s easy, therefore, to perceive, that were co-
vetousness undermined, and a godlike generosity
substituted in its place — no such miserable and
revolting scenes would disgrace our world. We
should no longer behold the houseless and be-
nighted wanderer hung with rags, sliivering
amidst the blasts of winter, and reposing under a
hedge, or in the streets under the open canopy of
heaven, nor the blind and the dumb, the halt and
the maimed, wandering along our streets and
highways friendless and forlorn, and destitute of

* It is a proverbial saying among the other Italians, that
' Naples is a paradise inhabitetl by devils."
t "Pencilings by the Way." By N. P. Willis, Esq., 1835

BENEFITS FROM THE UNDERMINING OF COVETOUSNESS.

65

the comforts which every human being ought to
enjoy. But, on the otlier hand, those whom God
has blessed with abuudance, would, like Job, be
"eyes to the blind, feet to the lame, and a father
to the poor. The blessing of them who are ready
to perish would come upon them, and tliey would
cause the widow's heart to sing with joy."

It is not, however, by bestowing money direct-
ly on the poor, except in certain urgent cases, —
nor even by endowing almshouses, or asylums,
except for the blind,* the aged, and the infirm,
who are unable to work; but by atlbrding em-
ployment, and a proper remuneration for labor, to
all who enjoy health and vigor of body and mind.
For every human being ouglit to be actively em-
ployed in something which contributes to his own
benefit, and the good of others. An absolutely
idle person, is both a burden to himself, and a
nuisance in society; aird" he never can feel the
sweets of true enjoyment. It is contrary to the
evident design of the Creator, in bestowing upon
us both physical and moral powers, that any class
of these powers should remain dormant or unem-
ployed. And, therefore, the plan of cooping up
hundreds of healthy persons in hospitals and
poorhouses, without being employed in regular
mental and bodily exercises, is evidently contrary
to nature, and consequently subversive of true
happiness.

I'he true method of promoting the comfort of
the poor, is to furnish them with the means of
instruction and employment, to provide them
with comfortable habitations, and to teach them
the rules of economy, temperance, and moral or-
der, and to see that their children be properly
educated in the different branches of useful know-
ledge, and in the doctrines and duties of religion.
There are many ways by which such objects
might be accomplished, either by opulent indivi-
duals, or by society at large. In the building of
churches, schools, lecture-rooms, and workshops,
throughout the country, wherever they are re-
quired; in the cultivation of waste grounds, the
draining of land, the formation of roads, and com-
fortable foot-paths throughout every part of the
country; in forming public walks round villages
and towns; in erecting new towns and villages on
spacious and improved plans; in erecting work-
shops and manufactories for all kinds of clothing
and furniture; in distributing gaspipes throughout
villages, and along the highways, for illuminat-
ing the country, and cheering the traveler under
the cloud of night; — in these, and many other
operations, all the poor who now infest our
streets, and burden our public charities, and pass
a miserable and useless existence, might be com-
fortably employed. And, while misery would
thus be prevented, and happiness diffused, im-
provements might be carried on to an indefinite
extent, the physical aspect of our globe might be
transformed into a scene of beauty and fertility,
and " the desert made to rejoice and blossom as
tlie rose."

In the cases now alluded to, and in many other
respects, much requires to be eilectcd, before so-
ciety be thoroughly improved, and before the

* Even the blind may, in many cases, be usefully em-
ployeJ. A\'e have had several celebrated lecturers and
toa'cliers of science, who had been either blind from their
birth, or had lost their sight at a very early period, such as
Proil .■^aunderson, Dr. Moves, Mr. Davidson, Mr. Gou?h,
and others, who were the liieans of communicaiinj popular
instruction in science, to many thousands in diflerent coun-
tries. Such persons, ?.inong the lower ranks, have been ose-
fully employed in basket-making, weaving, and other occu-
pations; and in such exercises, have felt enjoyments which
:aey ccuM not o lierwise have experienced

scene of external nature bo decorated with all
the beauties and conveniences of which it is
su.scoptible. But such improvements ought not
to be engaged in, merely from the sordid views
of deriving pecuniary profits; but from a desire to
do good to our fellow-men; to remove nuisances
both from the physical and moral world, to em-
bellish the city, and the country, and to promote
the general advancement of society, in knowledge
and virtue.

It is evident, then, that were such views of the
application of wealth to pervade general society,
or were even a few opulent individuals to act in
accordance with them, an important change would
soon take place in the aspect, both of the physical
and the moral world, i'hose scenes of squalid
misery and destitution, which are now to be seen
in every city, town, and village; tliose pitiable
objects that swarm in our markets and fairs, in
our streets and highways; and those wretched
cellars and hovels, unfit for the abodes even of
the lower animals, now inhabited by human be-
ings, would ere long disai)pear from the world.
The cries of misery, and the voice of mourning
and sorrow, would be changed into the voice of
cheerfulness, and into songs of thanksgiving and
joy. Every returning year, new beauties, con-
veniences, and improvements, would be seen rising
to view in every corner of the land; and harmony
and moral order would gradually pervade the
various ranks of society.

And, is hoarding up wealth in bags or coffers,
or wasting it in vain show and extravagance, to
be set in competition with such scenes of beauty
and general enjoyment? Surely every philan-
thropic heart, and" every sincere Chrislian pos-
sessed of riches, in contributing to such objects,
would feel a pleasure in beholding such results,
far surpassing what can ever be experienced in
indulging in " the pride of life," and in chiming
in with " the fashion of the world which passeth
away." And, we have already proved, in the
preceding chapter, that it is in thr power of thou-
sands, to be instrumental in bringing about "a
consummation, so devoutly to be wished;" and,
it is to be hoped, that with the power, the will
will not be wanting, and that, ere long, they will
"shake themselves from the dust," and arise to
vigorous exertion in the cause of God, and in
promoting the best interests of men.

2. The subversion of covetousness would pre-
pare the way for remedying many phydcal evils,
and promoting improvements for the convenience and
comfort of general society.

To some of these improvements, I have alluded
above; but it may not be inexpedient to enter a
little more particularly into the consideration of
this topic.

This world, when it was first arranged by the
hand of the Almighty, was completely adapted as
a habitation for a creature formed after his image.
Its arrangement was the result of Infinite wisdom
and goodness; and, therefore, must have presented
to view everything that was harmonious, beauti-
ful to the eye, and adapted to the sensitive and
intellectual enjoyment of man. Hence we are
told, that, upon a survey of all his works, in this
lower creation, "God saw everything that he had
made, and behold, it was very good." This beau-
tiful arrangement of the face of nature, in all pro-
Hibility, continued during the greater part of the
period which intervened between the creation
and the deluge. But, when the fiood came, " th«
fountains of tlie great deep were broken up," —
the interior strata of the earth were disrupted,
mountains and rocks were hurled " into the midst

66

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

of the sea," and rolled from one continent to an-
other; the whole solid crust of the globe appears
to have been shattered, and thrown into confusion,
and its surface transformed into one wide and
boundless ocean. After the waters of the deluge
had abated, the earth was left to Nouh and his
descendants, as one vast and frigiitful ruin, over-
spread with immense deserts and marshes, and
rugged mountains disrobed of their verdure. For,
we have reason to believe, that the greater part of
the dry land which existed before tiie flood, now
forms the bed of the ocean. This ruin of a former
beautiful world, since that period, has been, in
many of its parts, brought into a certain state of
cultivation, in proportion as its inhabitants have
risen from barbarism to civilization. But a great
portion of the globe is still covered with immense
deserts and almost interminable forests, tit only
for the habitation of the beasts of prey; and even
those countries which have been partially culti-
vated by tlie more civilized class of human beings,
are far short of that improvement of which they
are susceptible; or, of what must have been their
appearance, when the earth was fresh from the
hands of its Creator, and smiled with all the
beauties of Eden.

The sin of man was the cause of the original
structure of the earth being deranged, and its
beauty defaced; and, in proportion as man ad-
vances to a conformity to the Divine unage, after
which he was originally created, — will his habita-
tion appro.ximate to the beauty and order which
appeared in the first creation. But, " this sore
travail hath God given to the sons of men to be
e.xercised therewith," that they must now exert
their own genius and physical energies, in beau-
tifying their habitations, and reducing the globe
to an approximation to its original slate. And,
in proportion as Christianity and civilization have
prevailed, such objects have been partially accom-
plished. But the greater part of the world still
remains as a desolate waste, or a majestic ruin;
and, even where the hand of civilization has be-
gun to operate, little comparatively has been
effected; for the fields are scarcely half cultivated,
and there is not the fifth part of the conveniences
and comforts provided for the great mass of
the world's inhabitants which they ought to en-
joy. It is possible to transform the earth into a
terrestrial paradise, or at least into something
approaching it. What has already been done is
an earnest and a prelude of what may still be
achieved, were wealth applied in accordance with
the intention of God, and were all the physical
nnd intellectual energies of man concentrated
upon such an object. Let us look at New Eng-
land, which, only about two centuries ago, was
one immense forest, without the least cultivation,
inhabited by a few savages. From a small colony
of only a hundred individuals, these states have
increased to two millions of souls. Most of the
forests have been cut down, the fields cultivated
and adorned, and hundreds of towns, temples,
seminaries, and splendid public buildings now
diversify and adorn a scene of activity which was
formerly "a vast howling wilderness," where
none but rude Indians and the beasts of the
forests roamed for their prey. Even in our own
country, in the days of Julius Cffisar, the inhabi-
tants were rude and barbarous; they painted their
bodies; they were clothed in the skins of beasts;
Ihej' dwelt in huts and caves, in the forests and
marshes; the laud was overspread with thickets
and barren w^astes, and no towns, cities, or splen-
did edifices, such as we now behold, were to be
found iu any qu^riter of Britain, which now stands

in the first rank of Christian and cirilized nations
It only requires a little more beneficent exertiuiv,
and tlie whole British Islands might be changed
into a scene of beauty and fertility little inferior
to that of Eden. Nay, in a very short period, all
the uncultivated wastes of the globe ini^fht bo
adorned with every rural beauty, and every w ilder-
ness made to bud and blossom as the rose. Tha
money which has been spent in warfare, during
the last century, by Great Britain alone, amount-
ing to nearly two tlwusand millions of pounds, would
have gone a great way toward defraying the ex-
pense of everything requisite for transforming
almost all the desolate wastes of the globe into
scenes of beauty and vegetation. And, it is in
the power of the European nations — nay, almost
in the power of Britain herself — were wealth
directed into its proper channels, to accomplish
nearly all that is now stated, during tlie next half
century, if they would at this moment shalce off
the trammels of ambition and avarice, and arise to
holy and beneficent exertions. If ever such a
period as the scripture-millennium arrives, it will
be ushered in by such physical improvements, in
simultaneous combination with the instruction of
all ranks, the energetic preaching of the gospel,
and the universal extension of the revelation of
God among all nations.

Let us now consider for a moment, some of the
evils of the social state which should be remedied,
and the improvements which should be carried
into effect.

If we look into our cities and towns, we shall find
them abounding with many nuisances and incon-
veniences— narrow streets, dirty lanes, wretched
cellars, and hovels crowded with human beings,
whole families with their miserable shreds of fur-
niture, cooped up in one narrow apartment, amidst
gloom, filth and disorder — no conveniences foi
washing, bleaching, or for enjoying the cheerful
light of heaven and the refreshing breeze. In such
situations, numerous diseases are engendered, the
true enjoyment of life prevented, and the pe-
riod of human existence cut short, by nearly the
one-half of its average duration. If we inspect
many of our villages, we shall find similar evils
tending to human wretchedness and debasement.
And, if we cast our eyes over the country, we
shall find a glaring deficiency of comfortable
roads, and foot-patbs, and of comfortable dwellings
for the industrious poor, a want of bridges for re-
gular intercourse between villages, and a want of
bowers or places of shelter to the weary traveler,
either from the heat of the sun, or from rains and
storms, beside marshes that might be drained,
moors that might be cultivated, and many desolate
wastes that might be turned into fertility and ver-
dure, and become the seats of an industrious and
happy population.

Now, all these and similar evils might be re-
moved, and the requisite improvements carried for-
ward, were the principle of avarice undermined,
and a noble generosity to pervade the minds of
the opulent and influential class of the conmiunity
Were societies formed for promoting such ob-
jects— not for the purpose of gain or the mere
employment of superfluous capital, but for th>* pur-
pose of general improvement, and atfordinu em-
ployment to the industrious laborer, we might
have roads and foot-paths intersecting the country
in every direction, broad, smooth, and cleanly, and
adapted for comfortab e traveling and pleasur''
walks, at all seasons of the year-— cottages and gar-
den-plots, furnished with every requisite conve-
nience for the accommodation of the industrious
classos— our marshes drained and covered with

BENEFITS FROM THE UNDERMINING OF COVETOUSNESS.

67

corn — our heath-clad liills adorned with evergreens
and fruitful trees — our narrow dirty lanes, where
men are huddled together like ruhhits in their
cells, completely demolished — our confined streets
expanding into crescents and spacious squares —
now towns and villages arising on ample and im-
proved plans — canals and railways intersecting
the country in every direction, where they are
required — schools and seminaries of all descrip-
tions, churches, lecture-rooms, work.sho})s, manu-
factories, and asylums for the aged and infirm —
diversifying the rural landscape — and the once
barren desert rejoicing amidst luxuriant verdure,
and with the hum of human voices and of cease-
less activity.

That such improvements will he carried for-
ward in the days of the millennium, or prior to
its commencement, appears from certain predic-
tions which have a reference to that period. " In
those days," says the prophet Isaiah, " they shall
build houses and inhabit them, and plant vine-
yards and eat the fruit of them. They shall not
build and another inhabit; they shall not plant,
and another eat; for as the days of a tree are the
days of my people, and they shall long enjoy the
work of their hands. They shall not labor in
vain, nor bring forth for trouble; for they are the
6eed of the blessed of the Lord, and their offspring
with them."* "Then shall the earth yield her
increase, and God, even our own God, shall bless
us." "Then shall he give tliee rain of thy seed,
that thou shall sow the ground withal, and broad
of the increase of the earth, and it shall be fat and
plenteous; and in that day thy cattle shall feed in
large pastures. The seed shall be prosperous, the
vine shall give her fruit, and the ground shall give
her increase, and the iieavens shall give their dew;
the evil beasts slyill cease out of the land: and
they shall sit every man under his vine and fig
tree, and none shall make him afraid; for behold,
I create Jerusalem a rejoicing, and her people a
joy." The same thing may be intimated in the
following passages which refer to the same pe-
riod:— " Let the fields be joyful, and all that is
therein, let the hills be joyful together; then shall
all the trees of the wood rejoice before the Lord;
for he Cometh to judge tiie earth. "f "I will
open rivers in high places and fountains in the
midst of the valleys, I will make the wilderness a
pool of water, and the dry land springs of water.
I will plant in the wilderness, the cedar, the sliit-
tah tree, and the myrtle, and the oil- tree. I will
set in the desert the fir tree and the box together;
that they may see and know, and consider that
the hand of the Lord hath done this."t "I will
make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the
desert." "Sing, O heavens, and be joyful, 0
«arth, and break forth into singing, 0 mountains,
ye forests, and every tree therein." " Ye shall go
out with joy, and be led forth with peace; the
mountains and hills shall break forth before you
Into singing, and all the trees of the fields shall
clap their hands. Instead of the thorn shall come
up the fir tree, and, instead of the brier shall
come up the myrtle tree."§ " And they shall
build the old wastes, they shall raise up the
former desolations, and tliey shall repair the waste
cities, the desolationrf of many generations."

Although several of the last quoted passages
may be considered as having a reference to the
epirUtial renovation of the world, yet the literal
meaning is not to be altogether excluded. For
the external comforts of mankind and the natural
embellishments of Jie earth go hand in hand

* Isaiah liv.
i Isaiah xli. m.

t Psalm xcvi.
i Isaiah Iv. 12.

with the reception of Divine truth, and the mani-
festation of Christian virtues. Whenever the
gospel comes in its power and renewing influence
upon the heart, it sooner or later brings along
with it the blessings of civilization, and leads to
the abandonment of rude and savage practices — to
tiie improvement of the soil, and to the rearing
of cleanly villages and comfortable habitations.
This may be seen in the j)rogress of Christi^mity
in ISouthern Africa, where tlie narrow and filthy
kraals of the Hottentots have been changed into
substantial and commodious dwellings; and in the
Society Isles, where gardens, villages, spacious
churches, seminaries, and stately mansions, now
beautify and adorn that once savage territory, so
lately the seat of idolatry and " the habitations of
cruelty." In these respects, " the fields" may be
said to " be joyful," and " the mountains and the
hills to break forth into singing, and the desert to re-
joice and blossom as the rose." Such predictions,
too, seem to intimate, that the extensive deserts
and tracts of barren sand now lying waste and
uncultivated, and seldom trodden by the foot of
man, will be brought under cultivation, and
changed into a scene of delightful verdure; and
that, upon the hideous wilds where Nineveh,
Babylon, and other famous cities once stood, other
splendid cities will be reared, congenial to the
holy and elevated views of a renovated population.
The following and similar passages may be fairly
interpreted in this sense. " I will make the dry
land springs of water, and I will plant in the
wilderness the cedar, the shittah tree, and the
myrtle. They shall build the old wastes, they
shall raise up the former desolations, and they
shall repair the waste cities, the desolations of
many generations."

How, then, are such glorious transformations
to he efll'cted? Are we to suppose, that God, by
a direct act of his Almighty power, as at the first
creation, is to sweep the dense forests from the
earth, level the mountains, prepare highways for
its inhabitants, and plant with his own hand
" in the wilderness, the cedar, the shittah tree, and
the myrtle?" Or are we to suppose, that angelic
beings are to be sent down from heaven to per-
form such material operations? If not, then they
must be effected by the genius and energy of man.
For, whatever man is enabled to perform, under
the arrangements of the Divine government, is
uniformly ascribed to God as the Supreme mover
and director of every operation; and a miracle
was never performed, when human agents, by the
ordinary laws of nature, were able to accomplish
the object intended.

And how is man to accomplish such improve-
ments, but by employing his treasures, and his
physical and mental energies in such beneficent
operations? Hitherto, covetonsness has prevented
such desirable improvements from being eftl-cted.
When requested to embark in any undertaking
which has for its object the melioration of the
social state, its uniform language is, "will it
pay?" "will it pay?" "will it produce a proper
per crntage for the outlay of money?" implying
that the acquisition of more money, is the grand
stimulus which should excite us to embark in any
undertaking. It is stated, for example, that cer-
tain marshes, mosses, and heath-clad hills, can
never be cultivated, because the exi)ense of culti-
vating them would outrun the profit." This is
an argument which may be allowed to a man who
worships mammon as his God, and who has his
portion only in the present life; but such an
argument ought never to proceed from the mouth
of a Christian. The grand question to be deter-

68

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

mined is, " is it expedient and requisite that such
improvements shouUl bo attempted, and is it con-
sistent with the will and purposes of God, that
they should be accomplished?" If such ques-
tions can be answered in the affirmative, then all
other considerations ought to be laid aside, and it
ought to be deliberately considered, and laid down
as a maxim, that money was bestowed by God
for just such purposes, and not to be put in a bag,
or " laid up in a napkin." Were such views
generally recognized, and acted upon, a new im-
pulse would be given to human activity, and a
new aspect would begin to appear throughout the
scene of nature, and of general society. How
many tliousands are to be found in our cities and
populous towns, and even in our hamlets and vil-
lages, who are living in the midst of filth and
wretchedness, either altogether unemployed, or
eking out a scanty pittance, scarcely sufficient to
keep soul and body together, or employed in pil-
fering, or other criminal pursuits, who would
rejoice in the prospect of being employed in rural
improvements!

Now, were some hundreds of such persons dis-
tributed, under proper superintendents, in diffi;r-
ent parts of the country, to drain a marsh, to
cultivate a desert, to form new roads, to drive soil
to sandy or rocky wastes, and to direct rivulets
and streams of water to flow through such places;
were small towns and villages, on spacious plans,
to be reared in such places, and comfortable habi-
tations for the industrious laborers; were schools
established for the instruction of the young, and
churches, and lecture-rooms for the instruction
of adults in religion, and in every branch of use-
ful knowledge, what an amount of enjoyment
might be communicated to thousands of miserable
creatures, now in a state of penury and degrada-
tion? and what a beautiful transformation would
appear on the aspect of " the wilderness, and the
solitary place," now covered with briers and
thorns, and untrodden by the foot of man! No-
thing prevents such scenes from being realized,
but the principle of avarice ; and it becomes
Christians to whom God has granted riches and
property, seriously to consider, whether they be
not called upon by the word and providence of
God, to embark in such undertakings, although,
instead of making five per cent, for their money,
they should lose twice that sum in accomplishing
such designs. The question with a Christian,
ought not to be, what is the per centage of money
to be acquired; but what is the per centage of
happiness that will be gained to mankind, and of
improvement on the face of nature. Let such
consider what I say, and " may the Lord give
them understanding in all things! "

3. Were covetousness undermined, we might
toon have institutions established for the intellectual
and religious instruction of persons of all ranks and
ages.

This is a most important consideration — a ^ib-
ject the most momentous of anj' that can engage
the attention of the Christian, or of members of
general society. It is a subject, however, which
has been most unaccountably overlooked by all
ranks, and even by professed Christians and phi-
lanthropists. Innumerable facts which have
lately come to light, in our own land, abundantly
prove, that ignorance and crim£ are almost insepar-
ably connected ; and the same position is confirmed
by the experience of almost every other coun-
try. Notwithstanding the severity and the mul-
tiplicity of our penal statutes, and the new enact-
ments which are issued, year after year, against
crimes, they have multiplied almost in proportion

to the increase of our criminal statutes, [t has
been calculated, that in and about London alone,
there are above fifty thousand thieves and pick-
pockets. And no wonder, when we learn from
the Report of the "British and Foreign School
Society" for 1833, that " in the Metropolis alone,
there are above 150,000 children growing up to
manhood without education." In Nottingham,
it is found that more than a thousand children,
of an age suitable for school, are growing up in
total ignorance ; and, in Herefordshire, out of
41,000 individuals, only about 24,000, or littlo
more than one-half, were able to read. Instead
of one out of every four attending instruction, it
is estimated, that throughout Great Britain and
Ireland, there is not above one out of twelve or
fourteen of the population, at an average, enjoy-
ing the means of regular instruction; paltry, and
inefficient, as they generally are. Without a
thorough intellectual and religious education, uni-
versally extended, commencing at a very early
period of life, and continued until manhood, the
root of crime will never be extirpated ; and
although its branches may be occasionally lopped
off by the sword of the law, they will always be
ready to break out in fresh luxuriance. So long
as the principle of crime, and those affections
which lead to it, are suffered to remain without
moral counteraction; human laws, however se-
vere, will be altogether inefficient, either for eradi-
cating, or repressing it.

An efficient education is likewise essentially
necessary for preparing men to listen with atten-
tion and intelligence, to the declarations of the
gospel. For want of that intelligence which edu-
cation should produce, neither rational nor moral
arguments make the least impression on the mind.
We cannot, in many instances, persuade such
persons to attend a place of worship where Scrip-
tural instruction is communicated; and when they
are constrained to enter a religious assembly,
they are incapable of fixing their attention on
spiritual subjects, or of understanding and appre-
ciating the nature and importance of the truths
delivered; so that the most solemn considerations
and admonitions produce no more effect in excit-
ing to repentance and serious reflections, than " a
sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal."

Hence, likewise, the confused and distorted
conceptions of Divine truth which are entertained
by many of the regular hearers of the gos])el ; hence
the little effect produced on their moral characters,
and hence the want of holy energy, and of that
noble spirit of Christian heroism and generosity,
which ought to distinguish every member of a
religious community.

Again, universal education is essential for pre-
paring the way for the arrival of the predicted mil-
lennium. Such a period cannot possibly be
ushered in, until a moral, intellectual, and reli-
gious education be universally established, and
the benefits of it enjoyed by all ranks and condi-
tions of men. It is in this and the effects which
flow from it, that the essence of the millennium
will chiffly consist. For, at that period, " all shall
know Jehovah from the least to the greatest," in
consequence of whiuh "all the ends of the world
shall remember and turn to the Lord, and all kin-
dreds of the nations worship before liim."

At present, we have little or nothing that truly
deserves the name of education. In the system
of education which has hitherto prevailed in our
country, almost everything that is interesting to
a rational and immortal being has been overlook-
ed and omitted. Words have been siibstituted \a
place of things; the elements of language instead

BENEFITS FROM THE UNDERMINING OF COVETOUSNESS.

69

of the elements of thought; the keT/ of knowledge,
instead of knowledge itself; Pagan maxims instead
of Cliristian principles and precepts; a farrago
of trasli selected from Heathen Orators, Poets, old
plays, fables, romances, and novels, instead of the
grand and interesting facts of sacred history, the
scenes of domestic life, the useful arts and sci-
ences, the beauties of creation, and the sublime
and magnificent scenery of the universe. Maii
has been considered rather as a kind of machine,
than as 51 rational intelligence, and our systems
of education have treated him as if he had been
little else than a puppet, formed for mechanical
movements. The idea that he is a being destined
to future and eternal existence, and that his train-
ing ought to have a respect to his ultimate desti-
nation, has been almost entirely overlooked in
our scholastic arrangements; and the government
of tlie temper and conduct, according t6 the max-
ims and precepts of Christianity, has never formed
a prominent object in our seminaries, either for
tJie higher or tlie lower ranks of society. Beside,
our scliolaslic instructions, deficient as they are,
are not enjoyed by the one-half of our popula-
tion. We, therefore, require a system of educa-
tion to be established, commencing at two years
of age, and continued until twenty, which shall
communicate to young rninds the elements of
thought, and which shall comprehend all those
useful branches of knowledge in which man is
interested as a rational and social intelligence,
and as a candidate for a blessed immortality. Our
grand object ought now to be, that there shall no
one of our population who stands in need of in-
struction, be without the means of education, — so
that, in the course of another generation, there
shall not be an ignorant, and scarcely a vicious
individual found in our land.

In order to accomplish such a grand and bene-
ficent object, we must have infant schools estab-
lished for all classes, and throughout every corner
of the land; schools for the intellectual and reli-
gious education of the young, from the age of six
to the age of fourteen years; seminaries for in-
structing aj)preutices, journeymen, clerks, shop-
keepers, and other classes of young men and
women, from the age of fourteen to twenty, or
upward, accommodated to their conveniency, and
calculated to convey to them instruction in the
higher departments of knowledge and religion;
and colleges for the moral and intellectual training
of teachers fitted to conduct such institutions.

These, with similar institutions, and courses
of lectures on every branch of knowledge, human
and divine, require to be established in every dis-
trict throughout the length and breadth of our
land.

These are objects not only of vast importance,
but wliich would require for their accomplish-
ment a vast expense. For the island of Great
Britain alone, there would require to be establish-
ed no less than about sixtij thousand seminaries of
the description to which I allude; every one of
which, including an apparatus, museum, and
everything else which an intellectual seminary
should contain, would require at least £1200 to
be devoted to its erection and establishment, which
would amount to seventy-two millions of British
pounds! Great as this sum may appear, it is
only a mere item, when compared with the hun-
dreds, or rather thousands of millions which,
during the last century, were spent in the folly
and madness of warfare. But, by what means
are such sums to be raised, so long as covetous-
ness holds its sway, as it has hitherto done, over
tha human mind? Neither governments, com-

munities, nor individuals, will come forward to
lend their aid in promoting such objects, until the
principle of avarice be undermined, and the legi-
timate use of wealth, on the principles of Christi-
anity, be generally appreciated. 13nt, were this
object in some measure effected, and a principle
of Christian generosity beginning to gain the
a.scendant, there would not be the least difhculty
in accomplishing everything which has now been
proposed. We have the means in our power, if
we have the will to apply them; for there is more
money spent every year in folly, extravagance,
and vice, than would be amply sufficient to estab-
lish every institution requisite for the intellectual,
moral, and religious instruction of persons of
every age and sex, and of all ranks of the com-
munity. And, if they were once establislied,
four or five millions annually would be sufficient
for conducting their operations, and carrying for-
ward every requisite improvement. And what a
bright and enlivening prospect would then be
gradually unfolding to our view! the young rising
up in wisdom and knowledge, and in favor with
God and man; useful knowledge and Christian
principles extending their influence throughout
all ranks; the principle of crime undermined and
almost eradicated; property secure from the in-
roads of the pilferer and depredator; improve-
ments of every description carried forward with
alacrity and vigor; and harmony and order in-
troduced into every department of the moral
world.

All these and similar effects would undoubtedly
be accomplished, in a greater or less degree, were
we now to concentrate all our physical and men-
tal energies on such objects, and consecrate a fair
proportion of our wealth toward their accom-
plishment. It is by such means, we may rest
assured, that God will accomplish his eternal pur-
poses, and the predictions of his word in reference
to that period when " the glory of Jeh.ovah shall
be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together,"
and " when all shall know him from the least to
the greatest."

4. The progress of science and art would be pro-
moted, were covetousness counteracted, and a
spirit of generosity diffusing itself throughout
society.

The progress of the sciences and arts has gene-
rally kept pace with the progress of Christianity.
They are intimately connected with religion, and
have been instrumental in its propagation and ex-
tension. Without the aid of printing, the revela-
tions of heaven could never have been so exten-
sively circulated as they now are, by the millions
of Bibles, and other books on theology, that have
issued from the press. Without the mariner's
compass, and the art of navigation, we could
never have visited the "isles afar off" in the
midst of the ocean, to communicate to their be-
nighted inhabitants the knowledge of salvation.
Without a knowledge of the globular form of the
earth, which science has demonstrated, many re-
gions of our world could never have been explor-
ed, and we should have remained in ignorance of
America, Australasia, and many other countries
with which we now regularly correspond. With-
out a knowledge of this fact, and of the extent of
the earth's diameter, we could not have measured
the distances and magnitudes of the heavenly
bodies; and, without the use of the telescope, wo
could never have explored the magnificent scenes
of the universe which it has laid open to view,
and consequently could never have formed such
enlarged conceptions, as we can now do, of the
attributes and operations of the Creator.

70

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

It is, therefore, of importance, in a religious
point of view, tliat science and art siiould be. iin-
provea, and carried forward toward perfection.
For the more minutely the wonders of nature are
explored, the more distinctly do we perceive the
traces of Infinite wisdom and intelligence, and
the boundless power and goodness of Him " whose
kingdom ruleth over all." In proportion, too, to
the extent and accuracy of our views of the sys-
tem of creation, shall we be enabled to perceive
t}ie general harmony which subsists between the
operations of God in the visible universe, and the
revelations of his word.

And, as art has, hitherto, facilitated the pro-
gress of the Gospel, and the extension of Christi-
anity to distant lands, so we have reason to be-
lieve, tiiat it will contribute still more extensively
to its propagation in future ages, than it has ever
yet done in the ages that are past. Great im-
provements are still required, both as to the saj'ety
and the rapiditij of our modes of conveyance,
from one place to another, whether by sea or land.
Ships require to be constructed on improved
plans, less liable to be endangered by the billows
of the deep, or even when striking against a shoal,
and from the recent progress of invention, it is
not unlikely that contrivances may be suggest-
ed for impelling them across the ocean with a
greater degree of velocity than has hitherto been
attained, and which may enable them to glide,
with more safety, through the foaming billows.
Locomotive engines, by land, may be brought to
a still greater degree of perfection; and even
balloons may be constructed with apparatus ade-
quate to conduct them, in any direction, through
the regions of the atmosphere. Agricultural in-
struments may be contrived for facilitating rural
operations and the cultivation of the soil; and
new inventions brought to light for the quick
performance of all kinds of labor, so that the
laboring classes may, ere long, have abundant
leisure for the enjoyment of the bounties of the
Creator, and for storing their minds with all kinds
of knowledge, both human and divine. Our
knowledge of the powers of nature, and of the
functions of the animal system, may be so in-
creased as to enable us to prevent diseases of every
description; and instruments or contrivances of
various kinds may be invented to ward off those
disasters and fatal effects, which now so frequently
flow from the operations of lightning, noxious
gases, storms, and tempests, and other agents in
the system of nature, which have so frequently
been the cause of many accidents and calamities.

Now, it might easily be shown, that all such
improvements in science and art, are intimately
connected with religion, and have a bearing upon
the happiness of man, and upon the propaga-
tion, and the universal establishment of Chris-
tianity throughout the world. But, without moneij,
such improvements cannot be effected. Many
persons of genius, who have hit upon useful
inventions, have been obliged to drop the pro-
secution of their plans, when they were nearly
ripe for execution, for want of pecuniary means
to carry them into effect. And, in numerous in-
stances, when a model, or small machine has been
constructed to illustrate the operation of a certain
principle or theory, the want of money or patron-
age has prevented its being exhibited on a large
scale, so as to demonstrate its practical utility;
and all the labor, anxiety, and expense, previously
incurred, have been wasted to no purpose.* But

• A scientific gentleman, of very limited income, bad, for
•everal years, devoted a considerable portion of his time in
experiments, tending to prove, that a beautiful and perma

if avarice were transformed into generosity, and
generosity directed to patronize and assist schemes
which are praiseworthy, and of practical utility,
many useful contrivances, which are now in em«
bryo, might soon be brought to perfection, and
rendered subservient to the good of mankind.

Those who are possessed of wealth, have it not
only in their power to patronize persevering
genius, but to establish lectures on science, and
every branch of useful knowledge; to build lec-
ture-rooms, to pi'ovide apparatus, to erect observa*
tories, to found museums in towns, villages, and
all parts of the country; and, in proportion as
science is extended, and the number of rational
inquirers and experimenters is increased, may we
expect, that new facts will be elicited from the
system of nature, and new inventions brought to
light for the improvement of the social state of
mankind.. The sums wasted in extravagance and
luxury, in gambling, horse-racing, and hounding,
or hoarded for the purpose of gratifying a covet-
ous propensity; might, when applied in this way,
draw forth the latent sparks of genius, and prove
a powerful stimulus to inventions and enterprises,
which might contribute to the advancement of
society, and to the counteraction both of physical
and moral evil.

5. The progress of Christianity through the world
would he rapidly promoted, were the inordinate love
of wealth thoroughly subdued.

It is evident, from the general tenor of the
Scriptures, and particularly from the writings of
the prophets, that the blessings of salvation are
intended to be enjoyed by all the nations of the
world. "It is a light thing" (saith God, when
addressing Messiah), " that thou shouldst be my
servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to re-
store the preserved of Israel ; / loill also give thee
for a light to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be my
salvation to the ends of the earth." Hence, it was
aniong the last instructions that Christ delivered
to the apostles, and to all their successors in their
name: "Go ye into all the world and preach the
gospel to every creature; and lo, I am with you
alway, even to the end of the world." Notwith-
standing the lapse of 1800 years since this com-
mission was given to the followers of the Re-
deemer, it has only been very partially fulfillei
Darkness still covers the greater part of the earth,
and gross darkness the people. The greater por-
tion of the vast continents of Asia and Africa, a
great proportion of America, and even of the
southern parts of Europe; almost the whole of
Australasia, the immense islands of Borneo, Su-
matra, Madagascar, the Kuriles, Japan, and hun-
dreds of other islands, inhabited by millions of
human beings, still lie within the confines of Pa-
gan darkness, where scarcely a ray of Divine

nent light may be obtained from electricity, and has already
exhibited an apparatus and experiments on a small scale,
which prove, that the object intended is likely to be effect-
ed, could funds be procured to encourage the ingenious and
persevering inventor, and enable him to go forward with his
experiments on a larger scale. A nobleman in the neigh-
borhood, distinguished for his " liberal politics," lately paid
a visit to the inventor, and was gratified in witnessing soma
of the experiments. He told him to persevere, and if tha
plan succeeded, as was expected, he would have his mau-
sion illuminated by this electrical light. But althongh ha
must have known that the inventor's income was extremely
limited, and that he must have denied himself most of the
comforts of life, from having laid ont so much expense ia
conducting his experiments, he never thought of saying to
him, " I'll give you a hundred guineas to enable you to pei^
feet your invention, and to bring it forth for the good of man-
kind;" although he could well afford it, and has, doubtless,
spent leu times that snm for a worse purjiose. Snch, how-
ever, is the conduct of avarice, combined with indlfFercnoo
to the promotion of the good of society.

BENEFITS FROM THE UNDERMINING OF COVETOUSNESS.

iighl has yet penetrated "to guide" their benighted
inhabitants " in the way of peace." Even in
tliose nations wiiero the religion of Jesus is known
and established, the inhabitants are not yet half
christianized, and multitudes'' are perishing for
lack of knowledge," even where the sounil of
the gospel is heard, and its light shining around
them, lor want of proper instruction to arouse
their attention.

To fulfill the commission of Christ, and to bring
into effect the purposes of God in tlie conversion
of the nations, will therefore require vast and long-
continued exertions. If our future movements be
as slow, and our energies as feeble as they have
been for .'300 years past, we could not ex[)ect to
behold the glory of the millennium until after the
lapse of two thousand years. Yet it is in our
power, as agents under the guidance of the Divine
spirit, to h;isten the approach of the blissfffl era,
within little more than half a century, if we, at
this moment, arouse ourselves from apathy and
spiritual slumber, and bring forth all the treasures
at our command to carry forward the enterprise.
But without wealth, and that, too, to a vast
amount, notliing of any great importance can be
achieved. If the principle of covetousness shall
Etill hold possession of the soul, as it has done for
ages past, and if even Oiristians will entrammel
themselves in the cords of avarice, and refuse to
come forward with that noble generosity which
becomes their character, and lay down their
wealth "at the feet" of the messengers of salva-
tion, as was done on the day of Pentecost, our
hopes of the speedy conversion of the world will
be miserably disappointed.

What is all that has been done hitherto, in pro-
pagating the gospel, compared with what might
have been done, had we been deeply impressed
with the importance of such enterprises, and acted
in the character of devoted servants of the Re-
deemer, " who count all things but loss," in com-
parison of t!ie interests of his kingdom? All that
has hitherto been raised for missionary purposes
within the last twenty years (and it is chiefly
within this period tliat such enterprises iiave been
in operation), is little more than two or three mil-
lions of pounds, when at least five times such a
sum might have been raised every year, had we
been animated with anything like the spirit and
the holy zeal of the primitive Christians. This
is evident from what has been stated in the pre-
ceding chapter. Were thousands of Christians,
on whom God has bestowed property and riches,
to consecrate — not the whole of their estates, as
was done at the period alluded to — but only the
one-half, what immense sums for rearing the
spiritual temple might speedily be raised! And
such sums are almost indispensably requisite. We
have a work of immense extent and importance
to accomplish. We require thousands, and ten
thousands of preachers, missionaries, catechists,
linguists, translators, schoolmasters, lecturers, and
other laborers, to be trained for their respective
departments of sacred labor. We require them
to be more thorour/hlij trained than they liave ever
yet been for the sei-vices to which they are de-
voted. It is not enough thai a missionary, of
any desciiption, be a man of |iiety, though this
qualification is essentially requisite. He should,
if possible, be a man of universal knowledge,
having liis mind richly imbued with all the infor-
mation he can acquire on sacred and civil history,
mythology, science and art, and the system of
iiature, in all its departments; for he will find
abundant scope for all his acquirements, wherever
ho may labor in the heathen world, and particu-
Vol. I.— 41

larly among those tribes that have made certain
advances toward a state of civilization. From
such sources, he must occasionally draw his illus-
trations of Divine subjects, and his proofs of th«
facts and doctrines of rev(;lation; and endeavor
to make general knowledge on every useful sub-
ject, go hand in hand witli his expositions of the
Christian system. In particular, lie should be
thoroughly acquainted both with the theory and
practice of the most efficient modes of intellectual
and moral instruction, to which I lately alluded;
in order that he may seize on the first opportu-
nities of imbuing the minds of the young with
general knowledge, and with the facts and princi-
ples of religion. I am fully convinced that far
more converts will be made from among the hea-
then, by the early and judicious instruction of
the young, than by preaching lo the adult po})ula-
tion,^ though both })lans should be attended to, and
go hand in hand. By arranging a judicious system
of education for the young, wo may strike at the
root of those heathenish opinions, practices, and
prejudices, which have so ])Owerful an influence
over adults in preventing the reception of Divine
truth; and have it in our power to prepare the
youthful mind for listening with attention to the
truths and historical details of Christianity, when
thej' arrive at riper years. Such seminariea
would undoubtedly prove " nursing mothers" to
the church, from which the greater part of the
young would come forth to consecrate themselves
to the service of the Redeemer, and to the promo-
tion of the prosperity of his kingdom.

Now, in order to accomplish such objects, we
require colleges to be founded, and professors ap-
pointed for instructing students and intended
missionaries, in all those branches of knowledge
with which they ought to be acquainted. We re-
quire, as their instructors, men of general infor-
mation, of talent and piety, who will render their
lectures and other instructions, as popular and
perspicuous as possible; and who, on every branch
of science, will point out the moral and religious
purposes to which it may be applied, and direct
their students to render every department of hu-
man knowledge subservient to the interests of
Christianity. We require, that our missionaries
be possessed of vigorous mental powers, and that
they be instructed in the best modes of infant edu-
cation, and that they actually practice as teachers
of such institutions, as well as in conducting those
of a higher order, that they may be quite familiar
with all the details connected with such semi-
naries, and be competent to superintend them
wherever they can be established in heathen coun-
tries. We require that they should have a com*
petent acquaintance with the construction of t'".i
instruments connected with science, and modera
improvements, and the manner of applying them
to practical purposes, so that they may be enabled
to explain and exhibit them in the countries
whither they are sent, and to introduce among
their inhabitants whatever may tend to gratify a
rational curiosity, or to promote their physical
comfort. For all such [)urposes, funds to a con-
siderable extent arc required, for creating semina-
ries— for salaries to professors — for supporting
students — for sending out missionaries — for sup-
port! ng them for a season — for apparatus for infant-
schools and other seminaries — for books on gene-
ral knowledge, and the instruments connected
with science, husbandry, and the mechanical arts-
Ann whence are funds to be supplied if the spirit
of covetousness is not counteracted and subdued?

W^ have, hitherto, been parsimonious in tha
extreme, iu our coutributions for missionary pur-

72

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS

poses, and wc have been almost equally parsimo-
nious in tlie training and preparation required for
eur missionaries, and in tlie equipment and en-
couragement atforded them. We ouglit to serve
God, in all cases, and in tiiis in particular, " with
our best;" with the highest talents, and the
greatest measure of acquired knowledge we can
command; and with all tlie auxiliaries for facili-
tating the work in view, which Christian wisdom
can cevi^e; and then we may go forth with confi-
dence, trusting in Him " who liath the residue of
the spirit," that he will render our endeavors,
when conducted with wisdom, successful for pro-
moting the extension of his spiritual kingdom.
Let Christians, then, seriously ponder on this sub-
ject, und consider whether there be not an urgent
call addressed to them in the providence of God,
to awake!" from their slumbers, and come forth
with their treasures, in a far more liberal manner
than they have ever yet done, to assist in rearing
the spiritual temple of Jehovah.

Some years ago, I was conversing with a shrewd
and intelligent gentleman on the subject of mis-
sionary operations, who seemed to think that there
was too much fuss and bustle about such enter-
prises, when so much is required to be done at
home with the money expended on such objects.
" I do not think," he said, " that the heathen are
in so wretched and dangerous a state as many of
our religionists represent, and vi'ould have us be-
lieve;— but, if I really thought, that they were
perishing for lack of knowledge, and exposed to
everlasting misery on this account, and if preach-
ing the gospel to them would prevent tlieir de-
struction— then I admit, that we all ought either
to embark as missionaries, or sell the greater part
of our property in order to send messengers for
their deliverance. We ought even to sell all that
we have, to our last coat, if such an object might
thereby be accomplished." And does not every
Christian, at least theoretically, admit that the
heathen nations are in a dangerous situation, as
here supposed, and exposed to misery in the life to
come? Whatever opinions we may form of the
salvable state of any small portion of the Pagan
world, it is a fact, that the great majority of hea-
thens, by the malignant passions and ferocious
tempers they display, appear altogether unfitted
and unprepared for the enjoyments of the celestial
world; and consequently, cannot in such a state,
be admitted into the mansions of bliss, and if their
existence be prolonged, when they pass from this
earthly scene, it must of necessity be an existence
connected with misery. It must, therefore, be an
object of the greatest moment to embark in an un-
dertaking which has for its grand aim, to enlighten
" the people who are sitting in darkness and the
shadow of death, to guide their feet in the way of
peace," and to prepare tliem for glory and im-
mortality. And although we wore " to sell the
half of our goods," and devote it to such objects,
we should do no more than the importance and
the eternal consequences of such enterprises evi-
dently require.

There is now a call, and an urgent call, from
tribes and nations in every quarter of the globe,
t* send to them the messengers of peace and sal-
vation. " The wilderness and the solitary places,
the isles and the inhabitants thereof are lifting up
their voices " from afar to the people of Britain
and America, to send to them the revelations of
heaven, and missionaries to expound them. India
alone, at this moment, requires at least a thousand
enlightened and devotea men to sow the seed of
the Divine word, and to refresh the spiritual wil-
derness of that vast heathen territory with the

streams of salvation. Ethiopia is beginning to
stretch out her hands to God, and many of her
sable sons are now waiting for his salvation, and
hailing the arrival of the messengers of peace.
The inliabitants of the frozen regions ol Green-
land, Labrador, and Siberia, are imploring Divine
instruction from Christian nations, and thousands
of Negroes under the scorching suns of the West
Indies, are ardentlj' longing to be furnished with
copies of the book of God. The Chinese are now
beginning to inquire after the Oracles ol heaven,
and the arts and sciences of Christian nations.
Even from " the ends of the earth," from the dis-
tant barbarous isles of the Pacific, the cry is now
! heard in our land, "Britons, come over and help
I us! " Their inhabitants are trembling lest the
; messenger of death should seize them, before tha
! ships that convey British missionaries appear in
I their horizon, and lest a sufliicient number should
not arrive. They are " lifting up their voices
! from their rocks, and sliouting from the tops of
i their mountains," in expectation of the heralds of
{ the prince of peace, and are ready to receive them
I with open arms. And will Cliristians, who pro-
1 fess to be infinitely indebted to the Redeemer who
, purchased them with his blood — who profess to
'• regard Salvation as of all things the most de-
sirable and momentous, and who would tremble at
the thought of the possibility of their own eternal
I destruction — v.'ill Christians, to whom God has
' given wealth, suffer their minds to be so governed
by the "mammon of unrighteousness," that they
will refuse to bring forth their treasures at his
call, as the means of " delivering those who are
ready to perisli," and rescuing their souls from
destruction? If so, where is their love to the
, Saviour? where is their benevolence toward men?
i where is their belief of the importance of eternal
\ realities? and where is the evidence they give that
j they ought to be distinguished by the Christian
i name?

! O! into what a blissful scene might this ruin of
! a world yet be transformed, were covetousness
I thoroughly subdued, and were only those who
profess to be Christians, to come forth with un-
animity, and lay dov/u their superfluous treasures
I at the foot of the cross! In the short space of
j little more than half a century to come, we might
I behold celestial liglit diffusing its radiance ovei
j the most distant and benighted regions of the
globe; the idols of the nations abolished; the
savage raised to the dignity of his moral and in-
I tellectual nature, and his mind adorned with the
i beauties of holiness; the instruments of warfare
I broken to shivers, and peace shedding its benigr
influence over the world; temples erected in every
' land for the worship of the God and Father of our
[ Lord Jesus Christ; the minds of the young irra-
j diated with Divine knowledge, and rising up in
(wisdom, and in favor with God and man; the
i principle of crime extirpated, and poverty and
\ wretchedness banished from the earth; the moral
j wilderness of the heathen world cultivated and
j adorned with every heavenly virtue and gracej
j the wastes and wilds of the globe transformed into
fertile regions, and arrayed in all the beauties of
I Eden; the hatred and jealousy of nations, changed
' into benevolence, and a friendly and harmonious
intercourse established between all the tribes aua
I families of the earth!

I And is not the prospect of the mere possibility
' of accomplishing such objects, sufficient to quicken
I every Christian activity and to draw forth every
I generous emotion? more especially when we con-
: sider that such events are predicted in the recoros
I of ancient prophesy; that the certainty of their

BENEFITS FROM THE UNDERMINING OF COVETOUSNESS

Oeing realized is confirmed by the declaration
and tlie oath of God; and that the energies of the
Divine Spirit are promised to accoiiipany our
endeavors and to secure their ultimate success?
Let us then, arise and " shake ourselves from
the dust " — from the dust of carnal maxims and
worldly views; and be " strong in the Lord, and
in the power of his might." "For as the rain
cometh down and the snow from heaven, and re-
lurneth not thitlier, but wateretii the earth, and
maketh it bring forth and bud, so (saith Jehovah)
shall my word be that goeth forth out of my
mouth; it shall not return unto me void, but it
shall accomplish that which 1 please, and it shall
prosper in the thing whereto I sent it." " I have
sworn by myself, the word is gone out of my
mouth in righteousness and shall not return, that
vnto me every knee shall bow and every tongue shall
swear. For Zion's sake I will not hold my peace,
until the righteousness thereof go forth as bright-
ness, and the salvation thereof as a lamp that
burnetii. And the Gentiles shall see thy right-
eousness and all kings thy glory. For, behold I
create new heavens and a new earth, * and the
former shall not be remembered nor come to
mind. But, be ye glad and rejoice forever in
that which I create; for, behold, I create Jerusa-
lem a rejoicing, and her people a joy. And there
shall be nothing to hurt or destroy in all my holy
mountain, saith the Lord." +

6. We might expect the speedy arrival of the mil-
lennial era, were a spirit of Christian generosity
universally to prevail.

To this topic I have already had occasion to
allude, particularly in the preceding section, and 1
shall therefore offer only a few additional remarks.

That a period is about to arrive when the phy-
sical and moral condition of the human race, is to
be gre^itly meliorated, when the ignorance and
idolatry of the heathen world are to be abolished,
and when Divine truth shall extend its influence
over all nations, is clearly predicteri in the writ-
ings of the Jewish prophets. In these writings
it is declared, that " the glory of Jehovah shall
be revealed, and all Jlesh shall see it together''^ —
that "all the ends of the earth shall remember
sind turn to the Lord" — that "the earth shall he
full of the knowledge of the Lord''' — that "Jehovah
shall make bare his holy arm in the eyes of all
the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see
tlie salvation of our God" — that "the heathen
sliall be given to the Redeemer for his inheritance,
and the uttermost parts of the earth for his pos-
session"— that "all kings shall fall down before
him, all nations serve him, and the whole earth
be filled with his glory."

Predictions of this de.scription, run through
most parts of the inspired writings, and are cm-
bodied in numerous passages which we are apt to
overlook, particularly in the Book of Psalms.
All the calls, or commands to praise God, which
are addressed to the inhabitants of the world at
large, may be considered as including predictions
of such events; as in the following and similar
passages: " Make a joyful noise to the Lord all

* The " new lieavens and new earth " here mentioned,
evidently denote the renovation of the physical, moral, and
spiritual world, at the period when the gospel shall he uni-
versally extended, by which, a change, in the^e respects,
will be effected, which, in prophetic language, may be very
properly compared to a new creation, on account of the
contrast it will exhibit to the state of the world in jireceding
ages. 'I'hat the passage does not refer to the period of the
esnrrection, appears from what is stated in the sequel of
Uus chapter. Isaiah Ixv,
t Isaiah Iv. 10, 11; xlv, 23; Ixii. 1, 2; btv. 17, 18, 25.

the earth, make a loud noise, and sing praise."
"Sing unto the Lord a new song, sing unto the
Lord all the earth. Worsliip the Lord in the
beauty of holiness, fear before him all the earth.
Sing unto God, ye kingdoms of the earth, 0 sing
praises to Jehovah." " 0 prai.se the Lord all ye
■nations, praise him all ye people," &,c.

And, since God has given a universal call to all
peojile to engage in his service, we may rest as-
sured, that this call will, at some future period, be
universally responded to by the inhabitants of
every clime. For the word which has proceeded
out of the mouth of Jehovah, shall not return to
him void, but shall accomplish the purposes of
his will. "His counsel shall stand, and he will
do all his pleasure." In accordance with such
calls, we find likewise, in the Book of Psalms,
many positive declarations on this .subject. ^^ All
the earth shall worship thee, they shall sing to thy
name." "The people shall praise thee, 0 God,
all the people shall praise thee. God shall bless
us, the fields .shall yield their increase, and all the
ends of the earth shall fear liim." " The heathen
shall foar the name of the Lord, and all the kings
of the earth thy glory." "All nations whom thou
hast made, shall come and worship before thee, O
Lord, .ind shall glorify thy name." "All the
kings of the earth shall praise the Lord, when
they hear the words of thy mouth." " From the
rising of the sun to the going down of the same,
God's name is to be praised." " Kings of the
earth and all people, princes and all judges of the
earth, both young men and maidens, old men and
children, shall praise the name of the Lord; for
his name alone is excellent, and his glory is above
the earth and heavens." Our duty, in reference
to the promotion of such events, is likewise plain-
ly declared. " 0 bless our God, ye people, and
make the voice of his praise to be heard.'''' " De-
clare his glory among the heathen; his iconders
among all people.'''' " Thy saints sliail speak of the
glory of thy kingdom, and talk of thy power, to
make knowtt to tlte sons of men his mighty acts, and
the glorious majesty of his kingdom."

The above passages, although there were no
others recorded in the book of God, on this sub-
ject,— clearly point to a period, when the moral
state of the world shall be regenerated, when per-
sons of all ranks shall do homage to the Redeemer,
and when the light of Divine truth shall shed its
radiance on every land. It is of importance that
a clear conviction of the certainty of such events
should be deeply impressed upon the mind of
every professor of religion; as some who call
themselves Christians, have not only insinuated,
hut openly declared, that the state of the world
will never be much better than it is; and, conse-
quently, that we need give ourselves little trouble
in making exertions for the regeneration of so-
ciety— which is just, in other words, an apology
for indulgence in covetousness. But nothing, 1
presume, can be more decisive, in reference to the
approacii of the millennial era, than the passages
we have now quoted, if the word of God is not to
be deemed fallacious.

This period, we trust, is now fast approaching,
and our duty in reference to it, is clearly pointed
outi "declare his glory among the heathen,
and his wonders among all people. Prepare j'e
the way of the Lord, make straight in the de-
sert a highway for our God. 0 thou that bringest
g'^od tidings to Zion,lift up thy voice with strength;
lift it up, be not afraid; say unto the cities of Ju-
dah," and to the tribes of the heathen, " behold
your God." While we engage in our duty in re-
ference to such events, we have full assurance ox

74

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

<lircction ami support from Him, who is the moral
governor of the world, and the Supreme disposer
of events. Wlipn it is declared that "all the ends
of the earth sliall turn to the Lord, and all kin-
dreds of tlie nations worship before him" — it is
added, " for the kiiigdoia is the Lord's, and He is
the Governor among the nations." And, conse-
quently, he can remove every obstruction out of
t!ie way, and arrange every event in such a man-
ner as to facilitate the progress of Divine truth
tiiroiigh the world, until, " the everlasting gosi)cl
shall be preached to them that dwell upon the
earth, and to every nation, and kindred, and
tongue, and people."

The only thing to be determined, is, whether
that renovated and happy state of the world,
which we call the millcmnum, shall be introduced
by some astonishing miracles, such as happened
at the creation, and the deluge; or, by the agency
of Christian men under the influence of the Di-
vine spirit, devoting all their talents, energies, and
treasures, to the accomplishment of this object.
For the former supposition, I know no arguments
grounded either on reason, or the dictates of reve-
lation.

To suppose the Almightj', to interpose by such
miracles to accomplish such events, would be
contrary to everything we know of the princi-
ples of the Divine government, or of its opera-
tions during the lapse of more than four thousand
years. At the introduction, indeed, of the New
Testament economj'', miracles were wrought bv
Jesus Christ, to demonstrate to the world his Mes-
siahship, and a similar power was conferred on
his Apostles, to convince their hearers, wherever
they traveled, that they were the messengers of
heaven, and that they had authority for the truths
they declared. But no miraculous change was
effected iu the general order, either of the physi-
cal or the moral world. It might be asserted,
witiiout fear of contradiction, that, throughout
the whole train of the Divine dispensations to-
ward our world, there was never a miracle per-
formed to accomplish any object, when that object
could have been effected in consistent) with the estab-
lished laws of nature.

Now, men, "as workers together with God,"
are adequate to accomplish all that is predicted
respecting the happiness and glory of the millen-
nial era, provided they arouse themselves to holy
eAiergy and activity, and are willing to consecrate
their mental powers, and their worldly ncAes to the
promotion of this noble object. Beside, were the
millennium to be introduced by a sudden miracle,
it would deprive the saints of God, both of the
honor which will be conferred upon them, in being
instrumental in preparing the way for its arri-
val, and of the happiness they will feel in behold-
ing the Divine plans gradually accomplishing, and
tlieir own exertions crowned with success.

For, since the physical and moral state of the
world has been deranged by the sin of man, and
since God in his mercy has detennined to effect
its regeneration, it ought to be considered as a
high nonor conferred upon his people, that he has
been pleased to select them as agents in accom-
plishing his benevolent designs: and all who are
" right hearted men," will enroll themselves in
the service of the Redeemer, as Christian heroes,
to increase the number of his subjects, and to ex-
tend his kingdom over the world; and to this ser-
Ttce, they will account it their greatest liappiness
to devote all their wealth and treasures. ♦' i nis
honor have all the saints;" and it is to be hoped,
they will now come forward, with cheerfulness,
and alacrity, in numerous bands, casting their

treasures at his feet, " and give him no rest until
he establish, and until he make Jerusalem a praisa
in the earth."

If, then, it be admitted, that the millennium
will be ushered in by the exertions of the frienda
of the Redeemer, iu conjunction with the agency
of the Spirit of God; the most eneryetic means
ought now to be employed, and with unremitting
activity, iu order to accomplish this desirable end.
And, as those means involve a consecration of a
far gi-eater portion of wealth than has ever yet
been devoted to the service of God, the principle
of covetousness, in all the shapes it assumes, must
be almost completely extirpated, and new princi-
ples acted upon, in relation to the a[)propriation
of riches, before we can expect to behold those ar-
rangements going forward, which are requisite to
bring about this " consummation so devoutly to
be wished." Christians may wish, and hope, and
praywiih apparent fervor, for the coming of the
kingdom of Christ, and the glory of the latter
days — they may profess to celebrate his death, to
celebrate his praise, and may make a great stir
and bustle about adhering to his cause and testi-
mony; but unless they put their hands iu their
pockets to supply the means requisite for accom-
plishing the benevolent purposes of God, our ex-
pectations of the near arrival of the millennium
will be frustrated; and their conduct can be con-
sidered as only a mockery of God, while, under
profession of serving him, "their hearts are still
going after their covetousness."

The arrangements requisite for preparing the
way for the approach of the millennium, have al-
ready been stated in the preceding sections.

Abundant provision requires to be made to pro-
mote the external comfort of the poor, and other
ranks of society; many physical evils require to
be remedied; improvements of every description
carried forward; the wastes and deserts of the
earth, cultivated and adorned ; old cities and
towns cleared of every nuisance; and new towns
and villages erected on spacious and improved
plans, adapted to health, cheerfulness, and com-
fort. Seminaries require to be established for the
instruction of all ranks, in every department of
knowledge, connected with the life that now is
anJ the life to come, without which the founda-
tions of the millennial state cannot be laid. AL
the useful arts and sciences must be promoted ano
carried toward perfection, as auxiliaries to the ex-
tension of the gospel and the renovation of the
world. Missionary enterprises must be carried on
with more vigor, and on a scale far more exten-
sive than they have ever yet been, before we can
expect to behold the dawnings of the millennial
glory.

In order to accomplish such objects, it is evi-
dent, that vast resources of wealth are absolutely
requisite; resources a hundred times greater than
have hitherto been consecrated to the service of
God, and the benefit of man. But, I have already
shown, that we have wealth adequate to every
purpose now suggested, if we choose to employ it
in such achievements. Instead of a quarter of a
million, we might raise fifty, or even a hundred
millions of pounds annually, to promote the ex-
tension of the Messiah's kingdom, the improve-
ment of society, and the regeneration of tht
world. And, while such sums are raised, and em-
ployed in such operations, no want of real com-
fort would be felt, but on the contrary, a degree
of rational and sensitive enjoyment, far superior
to what has ever been experienced in tiie world.

It was lately stated, in some of our periodicals,
that there are in and about London, about two or

BENEFITS FROM THE UNDERMINING OF COVETOUSNESS.

throe hundred individuals, whose fortunes, com- 1
bined, would be nearly sufficient to pay off the
wliolft of our National debt, now aniountinij to '
above £800,000,000. What would the half, or
even the tenth part of such wealth not accom-
plisli, were it applied in consistency with the dic-
tates of reason and religion? But where do we
ever find such an appropriation of such abundant
riches? Is it not a proof, or something ap|)roxi-
mating to it, that we might be characterized
rather as a nation of atheists and infidels, than as
a nation of Christians, when so little of our na-
tional wealth flows into Christian and philanthro-
pic channels? Let us no longer boast of Britain
being by way of eminence a Christian land, until
we display more Christian principle in our ac-
tions, and a more noble spirit of Christian libe-
rality than we have done for ages past. If we
wish to lay claim to tliis sacred name, let us show
by our Christian virtues, our Christian genero-
sity, and our heavenly aims, that we are entitled
to this distinguished appellation.

For raising such contributions as those to wiiich
I allude — I, in the meantime, look to Christians
alone, and not to nations or communities, that
have assumed that name. As for those who are
governed by carnal maxims, and the fashion of
the world, we might as soon attempt to control
the laws of nature, or to reason with the tornado,
or the whirlwind, as to exjiect that any argu-
ments, however powerful, will make the least im-
pression on their hearts, or induce them to alter
the conduct they have hitherto pursued.

But, I trust, that amidst all the apathy that pre-
vails in regard to this subject, there are still many
thousands in our land, who only require to have
their duty clearly set before them, in order to ex-
cite them to the noblest displays of Christian
beneficence. And, if they were once aroused to
devote their wealtli to the cause of the Redeemer,
and to come boldly forward as Christian heroes,
in the face of the world, " counting all things but
loss," in comparison of the prosperity and exten-
sion of ]\Iessiab's kingdom — their example, I doubt
not, would prove a powerful stimulus to thou-
sands of Christians in other parts of the world, to
embark in the same glorious undertaking.

It is strange, it is passing strange — it is passing
wonderful! tliat Christians shoidd have been so
long sunk into a state of apathy on such a sub-
ject, and that they should never yet have come
forward with treasures corresponding to their
high and heavenly character, and to the greatness
of the work they are called upon to achieve. —
Had God commanded us to forsake houses and
lands, and friends, and country — to sell all that
we have, and to devote it to his service, and to
depend every day for our sustenance on whatever
his providence might supply, it would have been
our duty cheerfully to have acquiesced in such an
arrangement, in gratitude for the spiritual bene-
fits he had conferred; " for the sufferings of the
present time are not to be compared" with the
glories of futurity. But when he requires from
us only the superfluities of our wealth, which are
not essential to our comfort, and which are gene-
rally devoted to " the Inst of the eye, and the
pride of life," why should we hesitate a moinejit
to devote all we can spare from moderate personal
enjoyment, to the service of the Most High? Is
.t consistent with a man's being a Christian, in
deed, and in truth, to hesitate for any length of
time on this subject? Were Christ now to de-
mand of wealthy Christians what he once de-
manded of the young man who came to inquire
the wav to eternal life, "Go sell all that thou hast

and give to the poor, and come and take up thy
cross and follow me," how would many of them
reply to such an injunction? We are in the habll
of condemning the choice of this rich man, in hav-
ing his heart so much glued to the world, and in
preferring temporal enjoyments to eternal realities.
But, let me ask, how many British professing
Christians, were the same requisition addressed to
them, would act in a different manner? And, if
there be any who can lay their hands upon their
hearts, and say, as in the presence of God, that
they would be willing "to forsake all" at his
command, let them now come forth, in the face
of the church and the world, and consecrate to
the service of the Redeemer, all that they can
possibly spare in consistency with rational enjoy-
ment.

Let none im.agine that the views now stated are
Utopian, or inconsistent with reason or revelation.
To accomplish every object which has been ad-
verted to, we require nothing more than the facul-
ties, and the wealth which now exist in society. —
The only desideratum lies in the human will.
Will men come forward with all their energies
and riches in this glorious cause? Secure the co-
operations of the human will, and I should have
no fear of the grand result, nor of any arguments
that could be brought forward to show its imprac-
ticability. I defy any believer in revelation to
prove that the grand objects alluded to are imprac-
ticable. Is it impracticable to cultivate barren
wastes, and to turn the wilderness into fruitful
fields? Have not Britain and the Eastern States
of America been cleared of their ancient forests,
and been transformed into gardens and cultivated
plains? and where savages once roamed among
caves and thickets, are there not splendid cities,
palaces, temples, and seats of learning every-
where to be seen? Is it impracticable to arrange
and establish a system of moral and intellectual
instruction for all ranks of men? Are there not
thousands of seminaries, both in Europe and
America, and millions receiving instruction at
them, where, a century ago, no such institution
existed ? Is it impracticable to convert savage na-
tions to the Christian faith, and to bring them into
a state of civilization and social comfort? Have
not thousands and ten thousands of rude Hotten-
tots, and the idolatrous savages of the Isles of the
Pacific, been turned from heathen darkness, to the
light of the gospel, and raised from a state of de-
gradation, to the enjoyment of the blessings of
civilized life, within tlie course of the last thirty
years? In such instances, we behold at least a
j partial acconjplishment of the objects to which
we allude; and on the principle that "what-
ever man has done, man maif do," it requires
I nothing more than an indefinite increase of the same
1 energies we have already put forth, and a greater
proportion of wealth to assist in carrying forward
such energies, in order to bring into effect every-
thing requisite for the regeneration of the world.
Above all, can we say, that it is impracticable
to bring about what God has positively declared
shall be realized in our world? He hatli given
forth his decree, and "sworn by his holiness," and
" by the right hand of his strength," to secure its
accomplishment — that " the whole earth shall l>e
filled with his glorv, and all flesh see it together"
— that " the heathen shall fear the name of the
Lord, and all kings of the earth his glory "—that
•' there shall be nothing to hurt or destroy, in all
his holy mountain," — and that "righteousness
and praise shall sjn-ing forth before all nations."
And Wf know, that " his counsel shall stand, and
he will do all his pleasure," for " the kingdom ia

76

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

tbe Lord's, and he is the Governor among the na-
tions," and •■ all liis saints are in his liand," as
instruments to execute his designs.

Shall it then be said, that the physical and mo-
ral renovation of the world is impracticable? or
that it is impossible to raise a hundred millions of
pounds, every year, for such an object, when no
less than fjhj ruillions are annually expended in
Great Britain and Ireland for ardent spirits alone.
It is calculated, that there are in the British me-
tropolis alone, upward of one hundred thousand
contirmed dram-dritikers, who drink, on an ave-
rage, two glasses of spirits a day, which allowing
only l)o</. per glass, makes £1250 daily spent in
dram-dnnking, which, in a single year, amounts
to the enormous sum of £456,250, or nearly half
a million pounds, which is nearly double of wliat
is contributed by all the Bible and Missionary So-
cieties of Britain. And shall less than the twelfth
part of the population of London spend such an
enormous sum in such vicious and degrading
practices, and slmll the whole iuliabitauts of Bri-

tain not raise the one-half of it for promoting the
most glorious and important object to which our
aims can be directed? A most glaring deficiency
in Christian principle and liberality must exist,
where such incongruities occur; and, it is now
more than time for Christians to ask themselves,
what they have been doing with their money. A
laboring dram-drinker can devote two shillings a
week, or nearly five guineas a year, to his demo-
ralizing habits, while a wealthy Christian, with
five times his income, contents himself, perhaps,
with the contribution of a single guinea, or even
less, for promoting the kingdom of Christ, and the
eternal salvation of men! Such an inconsistency
ought no longer to exist among those who assuma
the Christian name. Let them either take their
stand at once, among the men of the world, who
attempt to serve both God and mammon, or come
forward like noble champions of the cross, and
consecrate to the honor of God, treasures worthy
of the sublime and glorious undertaking, which
thej'' are called upon to achieve.

CHAPTER VII.

ON THE MEANS TO BE EMPLOYED FOR THE COUNTERACTION OF COVET*

OUSNESS.

Every improvement in society is brought about
by exertion, and by the diligent use of those means
which are best calculated to promote the end
intended. Christianity^ was introduced into the
world, and rapidly extended over many nations,
by the unwearied labors of the apostles, who tra-
veled into remote countries, submitting to nu-
merous hardships, dangers, and privations, and
" counted not their lives dear to them, so that they
might testify the gospel of the grace of God," and
promote tiie salvation of men. Had the same
holy ardor which animated those first ambassa-
dors of the Prince of Peace, been displayed by
their successors, the world would have been in a
very different state from that in which we now
behold it. It is owing to our apathy and inactivi-
ty as Christians, that so many immoralities and
unholy principles are to be found displaying their
baneful effects around us, and that so little has
been done for the advancement of society, and
the evangelization of heathen nations. If we wish
to behold a work of reformation going forward,
and Zion beginning to appear "beautiful and glo-
rious in the eyes of the nations," we must arouse
ourselves from our indolence, and seize upon every
means by which vice and every malignant princi-
ple may be counteracted and thoroughly subdued.
And as covetousness lies near the foundation of
most of the evils connected with general society,
and with a profession of Christianity, it becomes
us to use every rational and Christian mean,
which may have a tendency to crush its power,
and to promote the exercise of opposite affections.
Some of the means by which this unholy princi-
ple may be subdued, have already been alluded to,
and embodied in the form of motives and argu-
ments addressed to the consciences of professors
of religion. In addition to these, I shall suggest
only two or three particulars.

1. Frequent preaching on this subject, and occa-
$ional public sermons for the purpose of illustrating

it, should be resorted to for the purpose of coun-
teracting this malignant aliection.

There is, perhaps, no mode by which so power-
ful an impression may be m.ade on any subject,
ox\ the minds of Christians in general, as by the
viva voce discourses of a respected, eloquent, and
enlightened preacher, especially if his discussions
be enlivened by vivid representations of sensible
objects, and appeals to striking facts connected
with his subject. Such appeals can scarcely be
altogether resisted by persons impressed with re-
ligious principle; and it is to be regretted that
Christians have not more frequently, in this way^.
been stirred up to a performance of their duty. —
Nor ouglit it to be considered as deviating from
the preaching of the gospel, when such subjects are
introduced into the pulpit. For they are inti-
mately connected with the progress of Divina
truth; and the gospel can never exie/isiwc/)/ take
effect, nor its principles be fully acted upon in
Christian society, until such subjects be pointedly
and publicly brought forward, and undergo the
most serious and solemn consideration. But it
requires to be carefully attended to, that no
preacher come forward publicly to denounce co-
vetousness, and to attempt to stir up Christians to
liberality, who is himself known, or suspected to
be under the influence of a worldly or avaricious
disposition. The most vivid representations, and
the most pathetic appeals of such a preacher

' would only rebound from the hearts of his audi-

I ence, like an arrow from a wall of marble. For
how can a man who is continually aspiring after

j wealth, living in splendor, yet grumbling on ac-
count of the smallness of his income, and who
seldom gives in proportion to his ability to any
philanthropic object; how could such a one ex-
pect, by the most splendid oration, to produce a

I deep and moral impression upon his hearers? —
For example, in this, as well as in every other case

' would have ? more powerful effect than precept.

MEANS FOR THE COUNTERACTION OF COVETOUSNESS.

n

A few niontlis ago, I was conversing with a
gentleman on this subject, who mentioned several
honorable examples of liberality connected with
tlie congregation of which ho is a member; some
of whom, 7;Iio only occupied a medium station
in life, contributed to tho amount of twenty and
thirty pounds yearly for public religious purposes,
80 that the whole congregation raised £501) or iiGOO
annually, for missionary and other purposes, be-
side the regular maintenance of the gospel among
tliernselves. His minister, he saiil, maintained the
principle, that every Christian should, at least,
devote the one-tenth of his income for religious
purpo:-es. 1 asked him the amount of the minis-
ter's stipend, and was informed that it was at
least i^45U per annum. I then inquired if his
minister set an example to his hearers, and by
acting in accordance with his own principle, and
if it was a fact that he devoted iil5 per annum to
religious and philanthropic objects? The reply
was, " I am sure he does not." " To what amount,
then, does he contribute for such purposes?"
"About eight or ten pounds annually, at the ut-
most." "If this be the case," I replied, "I
should scarcely have had the effrontery to incul-
cate such a principle upon others;" and I was
given to understand, that, in this case, the dis-
crepancy between his conduct and the principle
admitted, was beginning to be particularly mark-
ed. Why should ministers, particularly those
who have handsome incomes, consider themselves
as exceptions to a general rule? If they do not
set an example of liberality in their conduct, all
their instructions on this point will go for nothing,
and be only as " a sounding brass or tinkling
cymbal."

2. Christian churches should strictly investi-
gate the conduct of their members, in relation
lo the portion of wealth they devote to religious
objects.

Those members of a Christian church whose
incomes are generally known, and who are remiss
on this point, ought to be calmly reasoned with
as to their duty in this respect, on scriptural
grounds, and in accordance with the principles
and obligations they admit as Christians. And if
they obstinately resist every argument and admo-
nition addressed to them, and refuse to give a fair
proportion of their substance to the service of
Him from whom they derived it, they ought to be
suspended from the peculiar privileges of Chris-
tian society. The church of Christ has undoubt-
edly a rii/lit to take cognizance of itsTTiernbers, as
to this point, as well as when they are chargeable
with a breach of duty in any other respect, or
found guilty of a direct violation of the laws of
God. We are too apt to imagine (and custom has
long sanctioned the opinion) that the censures of
the church are only to he inflicted on those who
are guilty of what the world terms scandals; and
many professors of religion are thus led to con-
sider themselves as acting a dutiful part in Chris-
tian society, if no such scandals can be proved
against them. But the non-performance of duty
is equally sinful, and as regularly denounced in
scripture, as the direct commission of vicious ac-
tions. " If thou forbear to deliver them that are
drawn unto death, and those that are ready to be
Blain; doth not he who pondereth the heart con-
sider it?" "Whoso hath this world's good, and
seeth his brother have need, and shutleth up his
bowfcls of compassion from him, how dwelleth the
love of God in him?" The unprofitable servant
who hid his talent in the earth, is not accused of
drunkenness, uncleanness, licentiousness, or any
similar crime, yet, because he misiraproved tho

talent committed to his trust, he is dooned to the
same punishment as the most flagrant workers of
iniqiiitj- " Cast ye tho unprofitable .servant into
outer darkness, there shall be weeping and gnash-
ing of teeth." It is by the regular performance
of duty, more than hy-J'rcedom from "icious prac-
tices, that the reality of Clirihtian princi()le is dis-
played. There is, perhaps, notliing that brings
a man's Christian character to a more decisive
test, both lo his own conscience, and in the eyes
of others, than the circumstance of his voluntarily
and pe.r.-ieveringly devoting a fair proportion of
his wealth to the service of God, and the benefit
of mankind. A worldly-minded man may con-
linue for a considerable time to attend Divine or-
dinances, and make a fair profession of religion,
while no regular demands are made upon his
pur.'se; but when ci-dlcd upon to contribute regu-
larly, at least the tenth part of his income, it is
more than probable he would display the latent
avarice of his heart, by mustering up a host of
carnal arguments against such a demand, and
would soon take his station, where he ought to
be, among the men of the world. But, if a man
of wealth devote one-tliird, one-fourth, or even
one-tenth of his riches to the cause of God and
religion, and act a consistent part in other respects,
a Christian church possesses, perhn[)s, the most
tangible evidence they can demand of such a
man's religious principle.

There is a certain false delicacy which some
religious communities seem to feel in meddling
with the pecuniary affairs or allotments of indi-
viduals, and especially of those who are wealthy,
and who move in the higher spheres of society
They are afraid lest the pride of such persons
should be hurt by such plain dealing — lest they
should fly off at a tangent from their community,
and lest the funds of their society should be in-
jured by their withdrawment. But, although it
is pro[)er to use the greatest prudence and delica-
cy in such matters, yet, if such persons refuse to
listen to calm reasoning and scriptural argu-
ments and admonitions, they give evidence of a
spirit which is inconsistent with Christian princi-
ple; and it is no honor to any church to have
such enrolled among the number of its members.
A church of Christ is a society whoso members
are animated by lioly principles and atrections;
but most of our churches require to be sifted and
purified — to be purified from the communion of
those who are actuated by a worldly spirit, and
who have little more of religion than the name;
and, I know no better external test that could be
applied for this purpose, than that which is stated
above. A church composed of eighty "right-
hearted " Christian men, generous, ardent, har-
monious, and persevering in their efforts to pro-
mote the extension of Messiah's kingdom, would
do far more to advance the interests cf true reli-
gion, than if they were mixed up with 500 men
of a carnal spirit, who are chiefly guided in their
religious professions by the opinions of tlie world.
Such a select baud would move onward in harmo-
ny and peace, without interruption from men of
proud and carnal dispositions, '• their light would
shine before men," and others would "take
knowledge of them that they had been with Je-
sus," and might be induced to follow their exam-
ple and walk in their steps.

As Christian churches should be zealous in in-
culcating the duty of liberality, so they ought is
take special cognizance of acts, and general con-
duct which display a spirit of avarice.

W'hen a church member has been found guilty
of uncleanness, of an act of drunkenness, or of

T8

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNKSS

pilfering an article from his neighbor, a hue and
cry is iiisUnUly raised; and he is soparated from
the society, or at least, brought under the disci-
pline of thu church. And the i>urity of Christian
communion requires that censure should be in-
flicted on all such delinquencies, and the otf^nder,
if possible, brought to a sense of his guilt, and to
the ex'rcise of repentance. But, it is not a little
strange and unaccountable, that while strict atten-
tion is paid to such insulated acts of moral delin-
(]u?ncy, which, in some instances, are only excep-
tions to the general character of the individuals,
and not hahits of vice; men should be permitted
to remain in the church, without the lea^t censure
or admonition, who are guilty not only of acts
which indicate the predominance of avarice, but
go on in a syste/natic course of such conduct.
Although there is scarcely anything that so clearly
designates tiie character of an individual, as ha-
bitual avarice, yet, in many cases, it is scarcely
considered as a scandal, because general society is
dispos?d to wink at it — as if an avaricious Chris-
tian were not a contradiction in terms.

For example, a member of a church becomes
bankrupt and compounds with his creditors, some
of whom are poor people, for seven shillings in a
pound. He resumes business, lives as luxuriously
as formerly; and, in the course of eight or nine
years, purchases property and enlarges his domes-
tic establishment: but never thinks of paying off
even a fraction of his former debts, because he
knows that the civil law cannot compel him.
Yet, he may hold his places in Christian society,
and even in churches that profess a peculiar
strictness as to Christian communion. Take an-
other example: A person who enjoyed a lucrative
trade, and who was known to be possessed of a
certain portion of property or wealth, went to a
friend, when lying on her death-bed, in the ab-
sence of her husband; and, instead of conversing
with her on the important realities of religion and
the eternal world — endeavored to inveigle her to
subscribe an instrument, conveying to iiis family
the whole of her property; which would have re-
duced her husband to sometliing approacliing to
absolute poverty, although they were all members
of the same religious community. What shall
we think of such a person going from one attor-
ney to another,* to endeavor to ascertain, whether
he could, by le<jal means, inflict an act of injus-
tice on his Christian friend and brother, and rob
him of his worldly substance, and so far as in his
power, reduce him to a state of indigence? Or,
what shall we think of one who has a flourishing
business, in conjunction with a certain degree of
wealth, who is extremely fastidious about certain
disputed points of religion, and who assumes an
air of peculiar sanctity, yet will condescend, in
the regular course of trade, to sell over his coan-

•A friend of mine lately informed me, that when con-
versing witli a young lawyer of an upright disjiosition, on a
late occasion, he remarked to him, " that he had never
been so deeply impressed with the evil dispositions vrhich
abound in society, as since he commenced business as a
legal practitioner. He hpd been applied to by persons of all
ranks, and of almost rt// religious pcrsua.-'inn.'! — by persons
who rank as respectable characters in society, for the pnr-
pose of ascertaining wbetlier, by any legal quirk or maneu-
ver, they coald manage to get wills altered or canceled, and
deeds and contracts broken or evaded, in order to enrich
them-elves at the expense of others, ami in violation of na-
tural JHsti;'e. i^o liule moral and Christian principle is yet
to be found even in relijious society, that many who name
the name of Christ, think all is right if the civil law cannot
interpose to punish their deceitful and nefarious practices.
A gentleman who is an elder in a Presbyterian charch,
lately averred to me, in strong langnase, "that no man
•hould be considered as acting improperly or unchristianly.
If be acted iu accordance with the cioil law."

ter gl'.Is of ardent spirits to emaciated and de-
bauched females and others, merely for the sake
of the paltry gains which such a demoralizing
practice procures?

Tiie instances of avarice, as displayed among
members of the Christian church, are so nume-
rous, that volumes might be filled with the details.
What should we think of a clergyman selling a
quantity of victuals to a baker, and finding im-
mediately afterward, that the prices were rising,
importuned the purchaser t" give up the bargain,
und'M" pretense of his requiring the wliole of it
for seed — which was no sooner done than he
immediately sold it for an advance of several
pounds? What should we think of the same
individual receiving from a friend an article of
dri'ss, and immediately offering it for sale to gra-
tify his disposition for hoarding? pilfering quanti-
ties of nails from the workmen employed on his
premises — cheapening every article he intended to
purchase, until he could acquire it, if possible, .at
half its value, and manifesting duplicity and false-
hood in many of his transactions? Yet, although
such conduct was somewhat notorious, and even
talked over throughout all the country around,
no public notice was ever taken of it by the judi-
catories of the church to which he belonged.

Many who make the most glaring profession
of religion, and are extremely fastidious in respect
to evangelical views and orthodox opinions, are
not unfrequently distinguished by selfish and
avaricious dispositions. There would be no end
in specifying all the particular instances, and cir-
cumstances connected with the manifestation of
covetousness, even by persons who are continu-
ally talking about union with Christ, spiritual-
mindedness, and their own and others' conver-
sions. Some of these, and I state it with deep
reluctance and regret, have been known, on many
occasions, to practice duplicity and deceit in
many of their dealings, in order to secure a good
bargain or an extraordinary profit — to traduce the
characters of their brethren in order to gain a
lucrative situation — to injure most seriously the
pecuniary interests of others by not fulfilling a
verbal agreement, because the civil law could not
compel them — to rob the widow and the fatherless,
under the pretense of legal right and power — to
condescend to every low and squeezing means of
deriving profits, and increasing their riches — to
deny contracts and obligations, when they could
not bo legally proved — and, when solicited to con-
tribute to a Kligious or philanthropic object, have
either refuse" with a sneer, or a shufliing promise,
or bestovveil with a grudge the most insignificant
sum. Now, it is not a little unaccountable, that
such practices should be overlooked, especially by
Christian communities that profess a strict adhe-
rence to the principles and precepts of the New
Testament. Yet it is a fact, that all the cases I
have now stated, or alluded to — although some
of them excited the attention and reprobatiori of
a few individuals, were never thought worthy of
being brought under the discipline of the church
There is an indifference, and a bluntness of moral
perception among the members of many Christian
societies, which prevents them from perceiving
tho malignity and unscriptural character of such
dispositions and practices, because they are not
generally considered as scandals by the world
around them. But, if we wish to presei-ve purity
iu the church, to promote the extension of Chris
tianiiy, to undermine the spirit of avarice and to
encourage a principle of Christian generosity — it
becomes religious societies to look more narrowly
into the disposition ana practices of their members

MEANS FOR THE COUNTERACTION OF COVETOUSNESS

79

and by evory scriptural means, to endeavor to
wipe away the di.sgruce wliich lias been cast on
our holy relij^iou, by the worldly-niindedaess ol'
those who '-iiave crept in unawares" into the
bosom of the church.

3 The churches of Christ should now begin to
distinguish tlieinselves from otlier societies, by
txJdbitiiig to the world such displays of liberality as
Christianity requires.

If we ever expect to behold society advancing
In its progress, the knowledge of Divine trulli
rapidly exteiiaing through tlie world, and a noble
generosity, in respect of money, displayed for
accomplishing such purposes; it is to the church
we mu:it look in the first instance, to set an exam-
ple, to all others, of its disinterested and godlike
liberality. The true church is " a city set upon
a hill;" it is an object of attention, and minutely
surveyed by surrounding spectators, many of
whom have their eyes directed so as to mark its
defects, and to expose the conduct of its citizens
to public view. According to the aspect it pre-
sents, and the virtues or vices displayed by those
who enjoy its privileges, will be the opinion formed
by those who are williout its pale, and who may
wi.sh to enroll themselves among the number of its
citizens. It is, therefore, incumbent upon every
one of them, that they "let their light so shine
before men, tliat others may see their good works,
and glorify their Father who is in heaven." If its
light shine with brilliancy, it will attract the eyes
of surrounding spectators; if the heavenly virtues
of its citizens are conspicuous, and uniformly dis-
played in all their actions and arrangements, it
will have a tendency to lead them to inquire into
their principles and to join their society. Now,
this virtue of Christian liberality is perhaps one
of the most visible and tangible modes by wiiich
the light and efHcacy of heavenly truth are made
manifest to all. In the display of this virtue,
hypocrisy cannot continue long to wear the vail.
A worldly-minded man may be inJuced, in an
instance or two, to make a display of generosity
for the sake of character; but his ruling principles
will soon induce hiin to muster up numerous
arguments against the continuance of such exer-
tions, and to retire from the field of Christian
benevolence. Other virtues and displays of reli-
gious principle may sometimes be construed into
superstition or fanaticism; but a perseverance in
the path of Christian liberality, and a visible exhi-
bition to the world of its benignant and extensive
effects, can scarcely be imputed to such causes, but
to the influence of higher principles'which have
been impressed with powerful conviclion upon
the mind. And I am strongly convinced, that
Christianity will never make a powerful and uni-
versal impression upon the inhabitants of any
land, until its beneficent effects be thus visibly dis-
played in the conduct of those who profess an
adherence to its cause. So long as selfishness and
worldly-miudedness are displayed by the majority
of its professors, so long as many of its ministers
are beheld aspiring after its wealth and emolu-
ments more than after the performance of its
duties, it will continue to be despised by those
whose hearts have never been brought under its
. influence.

In order to indnce Christians to come forward
»nd display their liberality on a larger scale than
they have "ever yet done, I shall lay before them
a few recent instances of generosity in promoting
tlie cause of learning and religion, which, I trust,
will prove a stimulus to those on whom God has
bestowed riches and affluence, to "go and do like-
Wise." Some of the following statements are

taken from Drs. Reed and Mattheson's " Narra-
tive of a visit to the American Churches."

" Grenville is a small town which is considered
as wholly religious. The settlement was formed
by a party of ninety persons from New England.
On arriving at this spot, they gave themselves to
prayer that they might be directed in choosing
their resting-place in the wilderness, and enjoy
the blessing of God. At first they rested with
their little ones in their wagons, and the first per-
manent building they erected was a church for
Divine worship. Tlie people retain the simple
and pious manners of their fathers. They all go
to church; and there are 400 in a state of com-
munion. They give a thousand dollars a year to
religious institutions. One plain man, who has
never allowed hiujself the luxury of a set of fire-
irons, beside what he docs at home, gires a hundred
dollars a year to religious objects. In this settle-
ment, the drunkard, the fornicator, and the sab-
bath-breaker are not found; and, what is yet
better, in the last report, there was only one
family that had not domestic worship."* In this
instance, we behold a select band of Christian
men, voluntarily devoting their wealth to the
cause of God; and as an evidence of the effect
of such a principle, almost the whole community
is distinguished for the practice of Christiao
virtues.

"The Theological Seminary at Andover, which
contains a chapel, a set of elegant and commodi-
ous buildings, a philosophical apparatus, a library
of 11,000 volumes, and embracing a portion of
land of 150 acres, was founded not many years
ago, at the suggestion of the Rev. Dr. Spring,
father of the Rev. Dr. Spring of New York, in
concert with Messrs. Barllelt and Brown. When
they met to engage in free conversation on the
subject, and had considered the nature of the
object to be accomplished, 'Well,' said Mr.
Brown, 'I will give 10,000 dollars.' 'Why,'
said Mr. Bartlett, 'did you not say 20,000, and I
would too.' Dr. Spring went to Salem, and saw
his friend Mr. Norris there, told him what it was
proposed to do, and obtained another ten thousand
dollars, and thus the work proceeded. Mr. Bart-
lett, in addition to his first gift, built the chapel
connected with the institution, which cost 50,000
dollars, afterward one of the wings, and several
houses for the professors, as well as endowed
several professorships. It is thought, that in
several ways he has given to this object, not less
than 200,000 dollars (about £45,000), and there
is reason to believe, that all his benevolent inten-
tions are not yet fulfilled. "t Here is an example
of truly Christian liberality, which deserves to be
imitated by our wealthy ]>rofessors of religion.
" Had we only a thousand Christian men such as
Mr. Bartlett among us, we might raise fifty mil-
lions of pounds from them in the course of a few
years; and what immense benefits might thus be
conferred on mankind ! Mr. Bartlett, however,
did not receive this wealth by iidieritance, but by
his own energies. He was first a shoemaker in
Newbury, and became, in the end, for talents and
success, a first-rate merchant. He occupies a good
house, but lives in a ven' plain style, and ha.^
evidently more pleasure in bestowing than in
consuming his property.''^ And is it reasonable
to suppose that this gentleman is less happy than
others, because he has parted with so great a pro-
portion of his wealth for the good of mankind!

• Narrative, vol i, pp. 108, ]G!>.
t Reed's Narraiive, vol. i, p. 488.

80

ESSAV ON COVETOUSNESS.

On the contrary, I am cnrtain, he enjoys a sere-
nity of mhid, and a satisfaction infinitely superior
to tlie groveling mortals who eitiier hoard their
wealth for no useful purpose, or wlio waste it in
gratifying a taste for worldly splendor and extra-
vagance.

After a revival in a church in Geneva, State
of New York, in 18,')0, It is remarked that the
appropriations of religious charily were nearly
doubled the succeeding year. That church sus-
tains one foreign missionary, 'it an expense of
666 dollars — thirteen home mi-sionaries, at one
hundred dollars each — nine scliolarships of the
Am>.'rican Education Society, at 75 dollars each;
which, in addition to the appropriations for the
Bible, Tract, Sabbath-school, and other objects of
benevolence, amounts to more th;in 4,500 dollars
during the first year.* This fact demonstrates,
what we have alluded to, that wherever the prin-
ciples of true religion and sterling piety take a
tJiorou'J-h posses.sion of t'.ie mind, they lead to acts
of noble generosity; an.d that a perseverance in
such conduct, is one of the strongest proofs of the
power of religion upon tlie lieart.

At Dorchester, a village six miles from Boston,
Dr. Reed observes, " there are Sabbath-schools
and an Academy for superior education. Tlie
ignorant are taught, the sick find medicine and
sympathy, and the poor are promoted to adopt
methods of domestic thrift and decency. The
whole villnge presents an example of the effect
of religion so administered. No children are left
to grow up in ignorance; few persons abstain
from a place of worship; and here, where eveiy-
thing else is on a small scale, the schools and
churches assume an imposing character." How
many villages of this description can be pointed
out in Great Britain and Ireland? and is it not
owing to our apathy and avarice, that so few
scenes of this description should meet our eye?

" I know of no country," says Dr. Reed,
"where there are more examples of beneficence
and magnificence [than in America]. The rich
will act nobly out of their abundance, and the
poor will act nobly out of their penary. There
are refreshing instances of individuals sustaining
schools, professorships, missionaries, and evange-
lists. Ministers are repeatedly making move-
ments, in which it was eviJent that everything
was to be sacrificed to usefulness. I have seen
the pastor, at sixty, beloved and happy in his peo-
ple, give up all to go forth into the wilderness,
because he thought that his example more than
his labors, might bless the West, — while the
church has been as ready to relinquish him,
though with tears, when she has been satisfied
that it was for the good of the church Catholic.
I have seen a band of students, careless of ease
and reputation at home, forsake the college at
which they had passed witli honor, and covenant
to go forth together, some 2000 miles, to rear a
kindred institution in the desert. And I have
seen the aged man kindle at their enthusiasm,
and support them with his purse, when unable to
be their companion.!

* Reed's Narrative, vol. ii, p ]!l

t " Narrative," &o., vol. ii, p. 2S3. WTiite retnrnin;^
thanks to Urs. Reed and Mattheson for tlie entertainment
and tlie valuable information wlii<-li tlieir '• Narrative " af-
fords— t!ie writer of this cannot but express his legret that
their work was not published in a more economical style.
Had it been publisiied, as it might have been, at half its
present price, and comprised in two neat 12nio volumes, it
wouhl have been purchased by three times the number, and
have been read by ten times the number of individuals who
will be likely to peruse it in its present state. The price of
snch books prevents their being generally read by the mass

As an evidence of the liberality displayed in
the Northern States of America, there are no
less than twenty-one Theological colleges, all of
which have been instituted since the year 180B;
they contain 853 students, and liave accumulated
57,UU0 volumes. There are seventy-five colleges
for general education, most of them with profes-
sional departments; and they have 8136 students;
and forty of these have been erected since IHl'l.
Altogether there are ninety-six colleges and 9032
students. In the State of New York alone, he-
side all the private seminaries, there are 9G00
schools, sustained at a yearly expense of 1,126,-
4b2 dollars! Most of the above-menlioned semi-
naries, viMth the stately edifices connected with
them, have been reared and established by volun-
tary donations. The "American Siinuay School
Union" is likewise a noble exu!ij|>le of Christian
activity and beneficence. In l6'.:2, the eighth
year of its existence, it had 79i) auxiliaries; 9187
schools were in connection, having 542,420 scho-
lars and 80,913 teachers. The expenditure for
that year was 117,703 dollars: — for 18.'i3, it was
136,855. The most vigorous efTorts ,of this so-
ciety have been directed to the valley of the Mis-
sissippi. In 1830, it was resolved unanimously,
— "That in reliance upon Divine aici, they would
endeavor within two years to establish a Sunday-
school in every destitute place where it is prac-
ticable, throughout the valley of the Mississippi,"
that is, over a countrj^ which is 1200 miles wide,
and 2400 in length. There are thirty-six agents
wholly employed in this sen-ice; and, during
1833, they established 500 schools and revived a
thousand.

The following examples of covetousness and
liberality are extracted from an American periodi-
cal, entitled "The Missionary," for May 2, 1835;
published at the Missionary Press, Burlington,
Nevy Jersey, by Members of the American Epis-
copal Church.

" A gentleman having called the preceding
Autumn, to obtain aid for hiring a missionary in
Tennessee, I thought I would go and introduce
liim to our congregation; and we called first on

Squire L , as he is the richest man in town,

although I had little hope of success from that
quarter. He put us off", as usual, with an account
of his numerous family expenses, the frequent
calls upon him for money, the duty of seeing our
own cliurch free from debt, and our clergyman
well provided for, before we assisted others, and
concluded with his old, threadbare proverb, 'Cha-
rity begins at home.'' We then called on his

neighbor, Mr. S , a man of considerable

wealth, and no children to inherit it. He read
tiie paper, said that it was a deserving object, but
that he felt too poor to contribute. He colored
slightly as he said this, and then, as if ashamed to
give nothing, and anxious to rid himself of such
troublesome visitants, handed us 25 cents (two
shillings), and we took our leave. We met with
various success; some gave cheerfully and liberal-
ly; others, grudgingly, and not a fev.' declined al-
together. Our last call was on Mr. R , the

shoemaker; we found him, as I expected, busily
engaged at his work. He received us kindly,
made inquiries about the state of the church in
Tennessee, which showcnl that he felt a lively in-
terest in the subject, lamented his inability to do
much, but said he would do somrthini/. He then
stepped into the house, and returned immediately

of Christian society, and consequently forms a harrier to the
general diffusion of knowled;»e. Has covetousness on tlw
par; of the publishers, any share in this matter?

MEANS FOR THE COUNTERACTION OF COVETOUSNESS.

81

with two dollars, wliich he bcfifn^ed my companion
to accept, as an expression of his jfood-will.
Knowing him to be what is called in the language
of the world, a poor man [though in gospel phrase
he is eminently rich]; I asked him liow he con-
trived to subscribe to each one of our benevolent
institutions, to take a weekly religious newsjiaper,
to contribute liberally to the support of our ch'rgy-
man, and yet have so much to spare for a distant
church? Ho told me, it was easily done, by obey-
ing St. Paul's precept in 1 Cor. xvi. 2. In other
words, he was fsijstematicalli/ charitable. He made
it a point of duty always to consecrate a portion of
his weekly income to the Lord. ' I earn,' said he,
* one day with another, about a dollar a day, and
I can, without inconvenience to myself or family,
lay by live cents of this sum for charitable pur-
poses; the amount is thirty cents a week (half a
crown). My wife takes in sewing and washing,
and earns something like two dollars a week, and
she lays by ten cents of that. My children, each
of them, earn a shilling or two, and are glad to
contribute their penny; so that altogether, we
'lay by us in store ^ forty-five cents a week.
And if we have been unusually prospered, we
contribute something more. The weekly amount
is deposited every Sunday morning in a box kept
for that purpose, and reserved for future use.
Thus, by these small savings, we have learned,
that it is more blessed to give than to receive. The
yearly amount saved in this way, is about twenty-
five dollars; and I distribute this among the va-
rious benevolent societies, according to the best
of my judgment.' " Now this man is a consistent
Christian, a bright example of Christian benevo-
lence. He looks upon his little earnings as a
talent lent him of God, a part of which should be
cacredly appropriated to his service.

In the same "Missionary Tract," it is stated,
that the Treasurer of the ' ' Domestic and Foreign
Missionary Society," on April lOth, recei\M;d 477
dollars and 41 cents,* of which 5 dollars are the
avails of needle-work by /o;/r little girls, from four
to eleven years of age, for the church at 'Jackson-
ville, Illinois; and 35 dollars from the Sunday-
school of St. Luke's church, New York; 15 of
them in redemption of a pledge for the education
of an Indian child, named Levi Silliman Ives, in
honor of their former rector, now the excellent
bishop of North Carolina.

In our own country, we have likewise many
characters distinguished for Christian beneficence.
Mr. John Lloyd, of Nelson square, London, who
died in June, 1835, was a liberal contributor to
the cause of religion, under the signature L. He
was civil engineer, employed at the government
dock yarcis. He retired from business four years
before his death, devoting his large fortune to the
glory of God, and the good of men, both at home
and abroad. More than £12,000 are known to
have been distributed among different societies
under the letter L.; nor was he unmindful of them
in his will, having bequeathed to the x\Iissionary
Society £4000; the Hom.e Missionary Society
£4000"; the British and Foreign Bible Society
£3000; Religious Tract Society £.3000; the South-
wark Sunday School .Society £1000; Surrey Cha-
pel Benevolent Society £1000; the Christ church
Surrev School in Marlborough street, £r)00; the
London Hibernian Society £500; f in all £29,000!
What an example to wealtliy Christians', and how
much good may such an individual be instru-

* A dollar is eqnal in value to about four shillings and six
pence, and a cent to one half-penny English.
t See Evan. Mag. for August, 1835.

mental in communicating to the church and the
world! The concealment of his name in the
numerous donations bestowed in his lifetime,
arose from his rftiring habits, and a desire " not
to let his left hand know what his right hand did,"
and a hope that others would follow his example.

The Rev. Richard Knill, in the Evangelical
Magazine for November, 1835, mcntion.s a Welsh
gentleman who has 200 sovereigns ready to be
given for introdncing more of the piety and talent
of our churches into the work of the ministry;
and a minister, once a student at Homerton, who
proposes to assist four, six, or eight students iu
their preparatory studies, gratuitously. In tho
same number of this Magazine, Mr. Rathray of
Demerara, mentions that the negroes are begin-
ning to make monthly contributions for t!ie pur-
chase of Bibles, and other religious j)urpo.';es, and
that their first monthly collection amounted to
123 guilders, or £S 15s., and that they make a
point of giving something for their children. A
woman, says Mr. R., gave me 3J^6?. one day, say-
ing, "This is for Jaw e, a child about two years
old; I gave with the other people tor Kitty and
Yaha, when we gave the money to Jucob; but I
had nothing to give for Jane; and, Massa, take
this for her." This idea, suggested by poor ne-
groes, of giving a sum for every child of tho
family, deserves the consideration and imitation
of thousands of those who are better ins;ructed,
and who move in a far higher grade than the de-
spised sons of Africa.

The name of Thomas Wilson, Esq., which
stands in the front of most of our religious and
philanthropic institutions, will recall to the mind
of every one acquainted with that respected gen*-
tleman, the many hundreds and even thousands
of pounds he has generously devoted to the rear-
ing of chapels, to missionary and other benevo-
lent purposes, the eflects of which will be felt and
appreciated in future generations, and " many
will rise up to call him blessed." For, to those
whom God has enlightened in the knowledge of
the true use of wealth, " it is more blessed to
give than to receive." In addition to his many
other munificent donations, he has lately given
£100 to the New Chapel, Albany street, London.
G. F. Agnes, Esq., well known for his benevolent
plans and exertions to promote the best interests
of Biilish Seamen both at home and abroad, has
likewise distinguished himself by his liberal con-
tributions to various religious and philanthropic
objects. In addition to his labors and donations
in behalf of the " British and Foreign Sailor's
Society," and as a member of the committee of
the " New Australian Colonization Association,"
he has lately subscribed £50, in behalf of the
mission to the colony to be planted in the south-
western quarter of New Holland. * Various
similar instances of British generosity might be
stated were it expedient, although it is much to
be regretted that their number is so small

It is one of the hopeful signs of our times, and
a prelude that "God is about to appear in his
glory to men" — that Christian churches and con-
gregations are now beginning to come forward
with far more liberality, than formerly, in the
cause of missions, and of the extension of religion
both at home and abroad. The churches under
the inspection of the Rev. Dr. Brown and Mr.
Gilchrist, in Edinburgh, and of Drs. I\Iitchell,
Hough, and others, in Glasgow, have lately dis-
tinguished themselves by rai?ing from five to
eight, or ten hundred pounds annually, fordomes-

•Evan. Mag. for Dec, 1835.

82

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS

tic and foreign missions, beside affording a hand-
some support to tlieir respective pastors. The
church under the pastoral care of the Rev. Dr.
Wardlaw, Glasgow, is said to have raised for such
purposes, during last year, no less than £1700,
beside supporting tlieir pastor.

Mr. Williams, missionary from the South Sea
Islands, in one of his interesting addresses to the
public, on a late occasion, stated, that a certain
congregation in England, mentioned to him vpith
a certain degree of satisfaction, as if it had been a
great and unlocked for effort, had raised the sum
of £50, during the preceding year, for missionary
and other purposes, beside maintaining the gospel
among themselves. He told them, they ought to
do much more; for such an exertion did not
amount to a half-penny a week, to every individual.
They began to bethiiik themselves on the subject,
and next year raised, without much difficulty,
above four hundred pounds. Mr. Williams also
stated, that, at a late public breakfast, in a certain
town in England, u sum of nearly £200 was col-
lected in a few minutes, from a very limited num-
ber of individuals — one subscribing £20, another
£10, another £5, &c., with the utmost frankness
and animation.

The following experiment in behalf of mis-
sions, deserves attention, and might be tried, in
reference to any philanthropic object. Mr. Clay-
ton, of Walworth, proposed to his congregation,
that a thousand of them should take up the sub-
ject, and each of the thousand subscribe one far-
thing a day to the missionary cause. This was
recommended to be done immediately after morn-
ing prayer, that as soon as they rose from their
knees, they might make an offering to the Lord
of one farthing. This will raise more than a
guinea a day, and, consequently, more than three
hundred and sixty-five guineas a year (or £370
4s. 2d ), which sum would support six missiona-
ries in the South Seas.

Having such noble examples as above stated,
set before us. Christians of every name should
now begin to arouse themselves from their apathy
and inordinate attachment to the world, and to
consider that they cannot bestow their wealth on
a more honorable and important object than in
promoting the glory of God, and the best interests
of the human family, wherever they are dispersed
over the surface of the globe. Were such liberal
offerings becoming general throughout the uni-
versal church (and why should they not?) we
might, ere long, have the near prospect of behold-
ing the light of Divine truth irradiating every
land, the moral wilderness turned into a fruitful
field, and righteousness and praise springing forth
before all the nations.

It may not, perhaps, be improper to remark,
that the contributions of Christians should not be
chiefly confined to missionary purposes, or to the
support of the stated ordinances of the gospel.
These objects, indeed, ought to be supported with
far more liberality, and carried forward with more
vigor than they have hitherto been. But, while
we look abroad to distant tribes, and provide mis-
sionaries for their instruction, we are sometimes
apt to forget the duty we owe to our countrymen
at home; and, while we pay some attention to the
religious improvement of the adult population,
we too frequently overlook the rational and reli-
gious instruction of the young. On the proper
moral and intellectual tuition of every class of the
young, from two years old until twent}^ the
whole frame of civil and Christian society almost
entirely depends. This grand object has been too
much overlooked n all our Christian and philaa!<

thropic arrangements; and while it is so, all ou»
other schemes of improvement will be partially
frustrated. They will have a tendency only to
lop off the twigs and branches of immorality and
crime, while the roots of evil are left to break
forth in fresh luxuriance. Christian society,
therefore, should not rest satisfied, until every
human being, from two years old until manhood,
be brought under the influence of an efficienl
system of intellectual, moral, and Ch/istian tui-
tion, both in our own country, and, so far as oui
influence extends, in other lands; and a very
considerable, if not the greatest portion of our
Cliri-stian contributions ought, in the meantime,
to be devoted to this object, which lies at the
foundation of all those arrangements which are
calculated to introduce the expected millennium.
But, as I have already adverted to this subject, it
is unnecessary to enlarge.

4. Associations might be formed, particularly
among Christians, for the purpose of encouraging
liberaiity and counteracting avarice.

As the spirit of covetousness is so extensively
prevalent, and as it stands as a barrier to every
noble and Christian enterprise, no means should
be left unemployed to counteract its tendencies
and effects. And, as societies have been formed
for less important purposes, there appears no rea-
son why an Association should not be entered into
for promoting the cause of Christian liberality
and beneficence. Such a society might be com-
posed of persons who are willing to devote the
one-tenth, or any other portion/ of their incomes to
philanthropic objects. Such a society, if it could
be formed, would set an example of liberality to
the church and the world around them, and might
prove a stimulus to many who might not other-
wise have thought of it, to devote a portion of
their superfluous wealth to rational and religious
purposes. It might establish, in particular dis-
tricts, systems of education on new and improved
plans, as specimens of what ought to be set on
foot for the improvement of society in every
place. It might purchase barren tracts of land,
and make arrangements for their cultivation and
embellishment. It might rear small towns and
villages, on spacious and improved plans, with
every requisite accommodation and embellish-
ment, and calculated for the promotion of health,
convenience, and comfort. It might provide em-
ployment for the industrious poor, and commence
iievir enterprises for civilizing and christianizing
rude and uncultivated tribes, whether in our own
country, or in other lands, and accomplish many
other objects which an enlightened benevolence
would readily dictate. The frequent publication
of the operations of such a society, might be the
means of exciting the attention of mankind in
general to such beneficent pursuits, and leading
to the promotion of similar associations.

However romantic such a project may appear
to some, I have no doubt that there are hundreds
of benevolent individuals in various districts of
our own country, who would rejoice to have it
in their power to co-operate with other congenial
minds in promoting the best interests of their fel-
low-creatures in the above, or in any other modes
that a rational or religious mind might devise—
and that they are only waiting for such openings,
in order to give vent to their Christian liberality.

It is an evil, or at least a defect, in many of our
Christian arrangements, that, in the first instance,
we aim too high, beginning at the top of the
scale, when we should commence at the bottom.
This is the case when our attention is almost
solely devoted to the improvement of tho adult

CONSIDERATIONS FOR CHRISTIANS.

83

population, while the young are, in a great mea-
sure, neglected; — and when our efforts are en-
tirely directed to the promotion of the spiritual
interests of mankind, while their temporal comfort
is overlooked or disregarded. We have hitherto
laid much stress on merely preaching the gospel
to adults, while we should have been equally
active in prepcrring the minds of the young for tlie
reception of Divine truth, by all the rational and
religious arrangements which Christian wisdom
can devise. We likewise profess great zeal for
the spiritual and eternal interests of the poor;
while we not unfrequently leave them to pass
their existence in the most abject liovels, and to
pine away in the midst of filth, penury, and
wretchedness.

If we wish that they may appreciate the truths
of religion, we must endeavor, at the same time,
to meliorate their external condition, and render it
pleasant and comfortui)le. To tell a poor wretch
that he may have spiritual blessings, and eternal

treasures, by coming to Christ, while he is desti-
tute of both food and clothing, and we refuse to
supply his wants when we have it in our power,
is something ap])roaching to a species of insult
By endeavoring to meliorate the condition of the
poor, while we oflVr them Christian instruction,
we preiiare the way for the reception of Divine
truth. For, in so doing, we exhibit a visible
proof that Christianity is a beneficent system, and
tends to promote our hapi)iness, both in the life
which now is, and in the life to come.

Now, such societies as suggested above, while
they have for their uitiniate object, the spiritual
and eternal happiness of men, migiit bo instru-
mental in promoting the external comfort of all
ranks, particularly the lower, in furnishing them
with employment, in providing them witii com-
fortable habitations, in securing the proper in-
struction of their families, and directing them in
such a course of conduct as will infallibly lead
both to present and future enjoyment.

CHAPTER VIII.

CONSIDERATIONS, ADDRESSED TO PROFESSING CHRISTIANS AND OTHERS, AS
TO THEIR AFFECTIONS AND CONDUCT IN RELATION TO COVETOUSNESS.

Having, in the preceding chapters, embodied a
variety of motives and considerations, to direct
the views of professing Christians, in reference
to this subject, it would be inexpedient to dwell on
this topic, and, therefore, I shall only offer a few
additional arguments and considerations.

I. To jtrofessing Christians in general, we would
call attention to the following considerations.

1. Consider, ichat God claims the Supreme af-
fection of the heart.

He is possessed of every attribute calculated to
excite tlie adoration and love of all holy intelli-
gences. He inhabits eternity and immensity, and
is near to them who fear him, and hope in his
mercy. His power and wisdom gave birth to the
innumerable worlds which fill the universe, and
all the streams of happiness which gladden the
hearts of their inhabitants, flow from Him as the
uncreated source of felicity. To the inliabitants
of this lower world, he has displayed his love and
mercy in a way that " passeth comprehension" —
in the mission of his Son for the purpose of pro-
curing our salvation — an event which ought to
draw forth our highest affection, and gratitude,
and praise. And lie is "daily loading us with
his benefits, giving us rain from heaven, and
fruitful seasons, and filling our hearts with food
and gladness."

Hence we find the inspired writers, and other
holy men, expressing their emotions in such lan-
guage as this: — •' The Lord is my portion, saith
my soul, therefore will I hope in Him;" "Whom
have I in heaven, but Thee, and there is none
upon earth, I desire in comparison of Thee. Who
in the heaven can be compared to Jehovah? who
among the sons of the mighty, can be likened
unto him?"

Now, this supreme affection toward God^ is
altogether inconsistent and incompatible with the
indulgence of a principle of covetousness. For,
audi an affection ruling supreme in the heart,
virtually deposes God from his throne, and robs

him of the glory of his perfections. As soon
may we expect to make the north and the south
points of the firmament to meet together, or the
light of the heavenly world to mingle with the
darkness of the infernal pit, as to reconcile the
service of God and mammon. For, while the
true Christian, in all his movements, privations,
and afilictions, puts his confidence in God, and
looks up to him as his portion and deliverer, "the
rich man's wealth is his strong city," and *' he
trusts in the abundance of his riches." The one
joins with the heavenly host, in ascribing "wis-
dom and power, and giory, and thanksgiving to
Him who sits upon the throne;" the other is an
idolater, who says to gold, "thou art my hope,
and to the fine gold, thou art my confidence,"
and thus, in effect, " denies that God is above."

Let Christians meditate deeply on this impor-
tant point, and consider whether their affections
toward the treasures of this world bo at all com-
patible with supreme love to their God and Re-
deemer. W^hat is it that conscience tells you is
uppermost in your hearts? WMjat are among
your first thoughts in the morning, and your last
in the evening? What is it that gives you most
pain, the loss of a portion of your wealth, or the
apprehension of the loss of the Divine favor?
Are your desires more ardent after the increase
of riches than after the treasure in heaven that
fadeth not, and the incorruptible inheritance that
shall last forever? Is your joy greater in the ac-
quisition of riches or of a great estate, than in
the consideration, that God is your Father, and
your everlasting portion? It was a convincing
evidence of Job's heavenly temper, that "lie did
not rejoice when his wealth was great, and his
hand had gotten him much." Are you affected
with deeper sorrow, when you lose your sub-
stance, than when you lose the benefit of Divine
instructions, or although you were to lose a sense
of the mercy of God? Would you rather be
stripped of all your earthly possessions, and go

84

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

nakftd into Paradisp, than .0 be laden with gold
and jewels, although j'ou should run tiio risk of
falling into the pit of perdition? Do you make it
your great and ultimate object to gain riches or
an estate — rising early, lying down late, and eat-
ing the bread of carefulness? Do you grudge
your families the necessary comforts of life, and,
when requested to devote an offering for promot-
ing the cause of religion, and the liencfit of man-
kind, do you bestow it with a grudge, or with the
spirit of a cheerful giver? In all the arrange-
ments you make as to your lot in this world, are
you chiefly directed by the prospect of worldly
honor and gain, or by the opportunities you may
have of glorifying God, and being useful to man-
kind? If you regard -God as your supreme por-
tion, and the rock of your salvation, you will
consider all that you have as too little to be con-
secrated to his service, and will make the advance-
ment of his kingdom, the object of all your ar-
rangements, and will come cheerfully forward at
his call to contribute for this end, according as he
hath prospered you, saying with the Psalmist,
" What shall I render unto the Lord, for all his
benefits toward me? "

2. Consiiler the ohligatwvs you are under to Him
who procured your redemption.

You profess as Christians, to be under infinite
obligations to the mercy and love of our Redeem-
er, " who died and rose again," that your souls
might be rescued from destruction. You profess
to believe, that you were " redeemed not with
corruptible things, as silver and gold, but with the
precious blood of Christ," and that it was one
great end of his death, that "you might be deliv
ered from this present evil world, and its affections
and lusts," and consequently, from the dominion
of covetousness, which is the ruling passion of
the men of the world, and which is utterly in-
consistent with the character of the redeemed.
While you, then, virtually acknowledge these
truths, can you allow the love of the world to
predominate in your hearts? Can you tiiink it a
hard demand that God niakes upon you, when he
requires a portion of the wealth which he him-
self has bestowed, to be devoted to the extension
of the Redeemer's kingdom, and the promotion
of his glory? He might accomplish all his gra-
cious designs without your assistance; for all the
treasures of the universe are at his disposal. But
he has condescended to put an honor upon Chris-
tians, in selecting them in particular, to be "work-
ers together with him," that by their voluntary
and liberal oblations, they may exhibit themselves
in the face of the world, as " followers of the
Lamb," and contributors to " the prosperity of
Zion." Can you, then, in consistency with your
professions, refuse to come forward with munifi-
cent and god-like offerings, according to your
ability, for every enterprise that has for its object
the promotion of the Divine glory, and the pre-
sent and everlasting happiness of men? For, it
is by such conduct, that your avarice, or your
Christian principle will be detected. The latent
principle of covetousness, in its workings in the
heart, though open to the inspection of Om-
niscience, cannot be directly traced by human
eyes.

But, if you be hypocrites in religion, your
hypocrisy will be laid open, and your true char-
acter determined by your refusing to contribute to
the service of God, what is in your power to be-
stow. And this is a characteristic of the sense
we entertain of our obligations to the Redeemer,
which ought to be more attended to than it has {
bitb^^rto been in the visible church. I

If, then, Christians "in general, and especially

wealthy Christians, admit that they are under in-
expressible obligations to him "who came in the
name of the Lord, to save them" — is it compati-
ble with such obligations, "to walk according to
the course of this world," and to prevent, by
their niggardly offerings, the gracious purposes
of God from being brought speedily into effecti
If you profess to celebrate the praises of him,
" who loved us and washed us from our sins in
his own blood, and hath made us kings and
priesis unto God and his Father" — shall you con-
siiler it as too great an expression of your grati-
tude, to devote a hundred or even a thousand
pounds, at a time, for carrying forward the grand
design of the death of Christ, and the regeneration
of tlie world — when you have hundreds or thou-
sands at your command? If God were calling
you to devote all your worldly possessions to his
service, would you consider it as too great a sac-
rifice for tlie gift bestowed? If not, how can you
stand aloof and grudge a more tithe of your
earthly estate, when it is called for at your hands,
and wlien every needful comfort is still secured
for your enjoyment?

Let Christians seriously pause on such conside-
rations, and judge, whether the general conduct
of professors of religion, in regard to the dedica-
tion of their wealth, be consistent with the obli-
gations they profess to Him who hath procured
for them all spiritual and eternal blessings.

.3. Consider that all the privileges and prospects
of Christians are incompatible with the indulgeTice
of covetousness.

Believers are brought by the gospel into the
high and honorable relation of " Sons of God,'*
and consequently, "joint heirs with Christ Jesus "
of the blessings of his mediatorial kingdom.—
They are under the special care of the Providence
of God, who has promised, that " their bread shall
be given them, and their waters shall be sure,"
and that " He will never leave them, nor forsake
them." But a spirit of conformity to the world,
a covetous disposition, and an eager desire after
earthly honors and splendor, are evidently incon-
sistent with such exalted privileges. The sons of
God must resemble the moral character of their
Father in heaven, particularly in the display he
has given of his benevolence. But, "if any man
love the world, the love of the Father is not in
him," and consequently, he can lay no claim to
the prerogatives of sons. " Whosoever is born of
Goc^ overcometh the world," and, of course, he
whose soul is absorbed in its pursuits and vani-
ties, has never been brought into this t)ivine rela-
tion, but remains among " the children of the
wicked one."

The prospects to which the saints look forward
in the future world are glorious and magnificent,
beyond anything which this world can present, or
which human imagination can depict. In that
world, there are scenes and objects calculated to
gratify the sublimest faculties of the immortal
spirit; an enlarged sphere of contemplation — the
beatific vision of God in the effulgence of his
glory — " fullness- of joy " a treasure in the hea-
vens that fadeth not — an incorruptible inherit-
ance,— and " an exceeding great and an eternal
weight of glory."

If Christians, then, believe in the existence of
such grand and substantial realities, and have the
lively hope of entering, ere long, into their full
possession, — is it consistent with such exalted
iiopes, and such animating prospects, to have their
chief affections placed on the vain and transitory
objects of this earthly mansion, which must soon

CONSIDERATIONS FOR CHRISTIANS.

85

bo snatched from their embrace? And how can
they say it is otiierwise, if they are found grasp-
ing their worldly treasures so firmly, that nothing
but a small fraction can be squeezed from iheni
for the cruise of God and the renovation of liie
world? What should we think of a man come
to his full stature, devoting the greater part of his
lime and attention to amusing himself with tops,
marbles, and cherry-stones, as when he was a
child, and setting a higher value upon them than
upon all the serious employments of life! We
should immediately denounce him as a fool, or a
manvic, or, at least, as one who acted with the
most glaring inconsistency. What should we
think of a set of mariners, sent to circumnavi-
gate and explore a large continent, stopping in
Uie midst of their course in an insignificant island,
and employing themselves in catching musqui-
toes, or fishing for shrimps, without attempting to
prosecute their course? or of a traveler, on an im-
portant embassy to a large city, taking up his
abode at an inn, in the miflst of his journey, and
amusing himself for days and weeks with gather-
ing shells, or with the humors of a fair, instead
of prosecuting the object of his expedition? It
is equally preposterous and inconsistent for a man
who professes to be " born from above," and to
be traveling to heaven, as the place of his ulti-
mate destination, to have his heart glued to the
treasures of this world, and " to boast himself in
the multitude of his riches."

Let Christians, then, throw off every earthly
incumbrance, and arise and act in a manner be-
titting their celestial pedigree, and their high des-
tination. For. what are the treasures of time to
him who is begotten to the lively hope of an in-
corruptible inheritance? What are the frowns of
fortune to him who claims the celestial world as
his eternal portion? What are thousands of gui-
neas, or dollars, to an exceeding great and an eter-
nal weight of glory? What are the honors, the
titles, and the pageantry of this passing scene, in
comparison of the riches and grandeur of the New
Jerusalem, and the dignity of being " ki«gs and
priests" to the "Father of glory," in the man-
sions not made with hands, eternal in the hea-
vens? As lieaven in its bight far surpasses the
circle of this lower world, as the earth is but a
point in comparison to the wide extended uni-
verse, and as time, with its circling years, is but a
moment to the ages of eternity; such ought to be
the hopes and affections of Christians, in com.pa-
rison of earthly possessions, and of every sublu-
nary misfortune. Were such views fully real-
ized, and duly appreciated; were we living under
the powerful influence of that faith, which is
"the confident expectation of things hoped for,
and the conviction of things which are not seen;"
wefe the great realities of the eternal world, as
they ought to be, ever present to our view, in all
their grandeur and importance, a very diflVrent
display would be made of riches from what we
now behold, and multitudes, who now stand aloof
when called upon for contributions to the service
of God, would come cheerfully forward, "bring-
ing their gold and incense, and showing forth the
praises of the Jjord."

II. I shall next offer a few considerations to the
COVETOUS, whether professing or rejecting Chris-
tianity.

From what has been stated in the preceding
pages, and particulaidy in the preceding article, it
will not be difficult for any on« to discern whether
Covetousn'*ss or an opposite affection rules in the
heai't. To those whose consciences declare that
tliey are under the influence of this debasing pas-

sion, I would earnestly call their attention to the

following considerations.

1. Consider that wealth, however great, cannot
secure you from inisery and calamity. The rich
man is as much exposed to the atUiclions and ac-
cidents of human life as the poor, and sometimes
his very riches, in which he trusts, are the means
of exposing him to diseases and dangers. A
chimney top, or even a tile falling from a house,
will kill a nobleman as well as a beggar. When
infectious fevers are raging around, when iho
cholera is sweeping away hundreds in the course
of a day, can wealth prevent its ravages, or secure
you from its attacks? When the thunders are
rolling along the clouds, and the lightnings flash-
ing amidst the dismal gloom, can riches secure
you from the, lightning's stroke, or prevent your
hay or corn from being set on fire? When you
are crossing the ocean in pursuit of gain — when
you behold the tempest raging, and the waves
rolling mountains high, can your treasures still
the stormy ocean, or prevent your being engulfed
in the devouring deep? In such cases, the king
and the peasant are on a level, and equally impo
tent to control the laws of nature, or to counter
act the operations of the Most High. How many
instances do we see of persons in the prime of
life, possessed of wealth and honors, and in the
midst of all their earthly hopes and schemes, cut
off in a few days, and sometimes in a moment, by
a burning fever, by a fall from a horse, the over-
turning of a chariot, or by an unexpected confla-
gration? It was but a little while ago, that a lady
of noble rank, of great wealth, adorned with the
richest jewels, distinguished for her splendid en-
tertainments, and, while she was preparing for a
magnificent fete, on the ensuing day, was in-
volved, while sitting in her apartment, in a sud-
den and mysterious conflagration, and her body
and jewels reduced to an invisible gas, so that no
trace of them except a few small burnt fragments
of bones has yet been found. But acciJents apart
— riches cannot ward off those diseases which
may prevent all comfortable enjoyment from their
possession. The greatest wealth you can accu-
mulate leaves you still liable to the attacks of the
gout, the epilepsy, the palsy, the asthma, the
burning fever, the gravel, the ague, and the loss
of sight, hearing, tasting, and feeling, and to in-
numerable other disorders, so that the most splen-
did spectacles, the most exquisite music, or the
most costly viands, may be unable to convey any
real enjoyment- Under such diseases, to which
all are liable, the most splendid estate can afford
little or no alleviation; and the possessor of thou-
sands or millions of pounds maj' feel far less en-
joyment than the poorest peasant; — nay, may
smart under pains of body and agonies of mind,
to which the beggar expiring on a dunghill is an
utter stranger. Wealth, with all its gorgeous
trappings, cannot prevent the pain of surgical
operation, the bitter taste of nauseous medicines,
thfi agonizing throes of suffering nature, the ter-
rors of a guilty conscience, or the fearful forebo-
dings of a future judgment. And, therefore, the
man who, in such circumstances, has no better
comforter than the idea of the greatness of hw
richness, is one of the most miserable objects in
creation.

2. Consider the uncertainty of riches. It is
only during the continuance of life that earthly
possessions can be enjoyed. " For when you die,
you can carry nothing hence, your glory cannot
descend after you to the dust." " But what is
your life?" It is only "like a vapor," which a
small breath of wind may soon blow away. In a

86

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

moment, in the twinkling of an eye, while you
are hoarding up treasures, and trusting in the
abundance of your riches — or even you are aware
— the decree of lieaven may go forth, as in the
rase of tlie rich man in tiie parable, " This niglit
thy soul shall be required of thee." Almost
every news])aper that comes to our hands, and al-
most every returning day, bear witness to such
sudden transitions from time to eternity. While
mortals are reclining on the lap of ease, their
iiearts overcharged with surfeiting and drunken-
ness, running the giddy rounds of fashionable dis-
sipation or working all manner of uncleanliness
with greediness — while imagining themselves se-
cure, and foreboding no evil — death interposes, at
a day's or even a moment's warning, cuts down
their mortal frames, and summons their spirits to
appear before tlie Judge of all. But although life
be continued, the wealth in which you place your
confidence may soon be snatched from your pos-
session. The providence of God has many ways
by which to change the greatest prosperity of this
world into the greatest misery and adversity, and,
in a moment, to throw down the fortune of the
proudest aspirer after wealth, in order to make
him contemplate his sin in his punishment. Such
a change in your fortune may be produced, either
by the rapine of enemies, or the treachery of
friends, by your own avarice or folly, or by the
malice or revenge of your enemies, by the prodi-
gality of your children or the unfaithfulness of
your servants. The elements of nature, the hur-
ricane, the tempest, the overwhelming deluge
may conspire for your ruin. Your ships may be
dashed to pieces on rocks or shoals, or a sudden
conflagration may lay all your boasting hopes
prostrate in the dust. And wilt thou place thy
confidence in such uncertain possessions? " Wilt
thou set thine eyes upon that which is not; for
riches certiiiidy make themselves wings; they fly
as an eagle toward heaven."

3. Consider the folly and vnreasonablencss of
covetous affections. This will appear, in the first
place, if )'ou consider, that riches considered in
themselves , ivithout regard to their use, are of no
value whatsoever. Suppose a man could lay up a
stock of clothes and provisions sufficient to last
him for 300 years, what would it avail him, if he
is certain tiiat he cannot live above seventy, or,
at farthest, above a hundred years? Suppose he
laid up in a storehouse 70,000 pairs of shoes, to
vhat end would it serve, if he could make use,
during his whole life, of oidy the one-hundredth
part ol ttiem? He would be in the sanae condition
as a man who had a hundred dishes placed before
him at dinner, but who could only partake of one,
or of a person who had a hundred mansions pur-
chased for his residence, but who could occupy
only one. The same thing may be said of pounds,
ehillings, and dollars, which are of no use in
themselves, but only as they are the representa-
tions of articles of necessity and luxury which
tliey may be the means of jirocuring. Plow ridi-
culous would it appear, if all that could be said
of a man while lie lived, was simply this — that
his whole life was occupied in collecting and lay-
ing up in a storehouse 60,000 mahogany chairs,
which were never intended to be used for the
furniture of apartments, or 80,000 pairs of trow-
eers which were never to be worn? And where
is the difference in point of rationality and utility,
between such absurd practices, and hoarding
thousands of guineas or bank-notes which are
never brought forth for the benefit of mankind?
There is no conduct, connected with the pursuits
of human beings, that appears more mean, con-

temptible, and absurd, than such practices (how-
ever common) if examined by the dictates of rea«
son and the word of God.

The folly of covetousness likewi.se appears la
this, that its objects cannot afford solid sutisfacfion
to the mind. Wealth can neither convey new
senses, or open new avenues to pleasure, nor
block up tlie passages of pain and anguish. It
cannot produce inward peace, equanimity, domes-
tic comfort, or a delightful self-consciousness of
virtue, or of the Divine approbation. On the
contrary, the passion of covetousness i.^ uniformly
attended with mental anxiety, inquietude, restless
and insatiable desires, and keeps its votaries in
continual fear of losing what they have acquired,
so that thej^ are generally fretful and discontented,
and in a kind of hell of their own creating. How-
ever much they may have acquired, they are still
in the pursuit of more ; and the riches of the
whole world, were it possible to obtain them,
would be inadequate to satisfy their desires. In
their mad career of gain, they will rush forward
with the utmost impetuosity, even at the hazard
of losing all that they had formerly toiled for and
amassed. Marcus Crassus, a celebrated Roman,
surnamed the Rich, had above 500 talents left him
to begin the world with, and by Jiis excessive
covetousness, scraped togetjier vast sums of
money. Being desirous to know at a certain
period, what his estate amounted to, it was sum-
med up at seven thousand one hundred talents, or
about seven millions nine hundred and eighty
seven thousands of British pounds. But it ap-
pears, this immense treasure was not sufficient to
satisfy his avaricious pas;^ion; for, casting an evil
eye upon the treasure of the Parthians, he march-
ed with a great force against them, and, being
defeated, and taken prisoner, the Parthian general
gave orders to cut off his head, and pour melted
gold down his throat, to upbraid his excessive
covetousness, that never thought he had enough.
Such are, not unfrequontly, the results of exces-
sive avarice, and such the termination of all the
desires and passions, the hopes and fears, the
anxieties and pursuits, which are engendered by
covetousness. Happiness never woiiid have been
expected to result from the pursuits and enjoy-
ments of avarice, if man had retained the full
exercise of his reason, and had never fallen from
his original estate.

The misery and folly of avarice may be illus-
trated by the following recent occuirence, ex-
tracted from the "Sunday Times," of Oct. 4,
1835. "A few daj's since, an old miser, named
Webb, who has, for several years, resided in an
obscure lodging in Barrack court, Woolwich,
called upon Mr. White, a broker, residing in
Powis street, in the same parisli, to inquire
whether he would allow him to lodge with h>m,
as he had been uncomfortable for some time past.
The request was complied with, and, in the courao
of the evening, he took possession of his new
apartments. He had retired to rest but a very
short time before he was taken ill, and at his re-
quest, two medical men were sent for. Upon the
arrival of Messrs. McDonald and Gaul, they pro-
nounced him to be in a dying state, which waa
no sooner communicated to the patient, than be
ordered an attorney to be sent for, as he wished
to make his will. An attorney v.'as speedily in
attendance. The old man raising hinisclf upon
the bed, bequeathed to his daughter £100, to thre«
nephews, £30, £40, and £50 eacli. Upon being
asked if he had a wife, he replied 'Yes,' but he
had been parted from her three tunes; that she
had been in a workhouse near Stroud, in Kent

CONSIDERATIONS FOR CHRISTIANS.

87

for a number of years, and that he did not intend
to leave her a single penny. lie had also two
brothers and another daughter, who had all (he
said) behaved ill toward him, and he would leave
them nothing. Upon being asked to whom he
left the residue of his property, he replied, ' To
Mr. White for his kindness,' at the same time
handing the attorney a paper, which, upon being
opened, was found to contain securities for up-
ward of £800 in the Bank of England, so that
Mr. White (who is sole executor), will, after pay-
ing the respective legacies, clear upward of £5U0
by his lodger, who continued to get worse and died
on Sunday. It is a remarkable fact, that the
deceased (who was 75 years of age) has been fre-
quently seen to pick up bones and rags in the
street, and put them in his pocket; and at the
time of his death he was in a most filthy condi-
tion."

Here we have a picture of a poor wretch, who
appears to have spent the greater part of a long
life in scraping together £800, and, at last, be-
stowing the greater part of it upon an entire
stranger. We behold him neglecting his own
family, and his nearest relatives; and, almost in
the very agonies of death, indulging implacable
resentment against his own daughter, and the
wife of his bosom, and leaving her to be main-
tained on public charity, when he had enough
and to spare. He displayed himself to be little
short of a thief and a robber, as most misers are.
He robbed the public in leaving his wife to be
maintained in a poor-house, he robbed his wife
and children in depriving them of what they had
a natural right to, and giving it to a stranger: he
rMed God of his tithes and offerings, in bestow-
liig no portion of his substance in his service, and
he robbed himself, in depriving himself of the good
opinion of his fellow-men, and of those enjoy-
ments which might have rendered him comfort-
able and happy. It is more than probable, that
all his domestic broils and contentions, and the
alienation of affection he experienced, were the
results of his niggardly and avaricious disposition.
Who that enjoyed peace and contentment would
envy either the life or the dying hours of such a
wretched being? Yet such are the rewards, such
the folly and wretchedness of those who surrender
themselves to the power and dominion of cove-
tousness. If riclies could procure true happiness,
even in the present life, there might be some apo-
logy for pursuing them with eagerness; but even
this, they are inadequate to confer; for experience
demonstrates, that their votaries are frequently
among the most wretched of the human race — a
prey to restless and malignant passions, and de-
spised by their fellow-men.

The folly of covctousness will further appear,
if we consider, that the objects which it pursues are
not to be compared, in point of grandeur and enjoy-
ment, with those ichich are within the reach of all.
Wealth can command stately buildings, splendid
apartments, gorgeous apparel, marble statues,
curious pictures, gold and silver vessels, spacious
gardens, and other objects which the world calls
noble and magnificent. But " what good is there
to the owners thereof, saving the beholding of
them with their eyes." Every spectator that has
a taste for such objects may enjoy the pleasure
arising from the sight cf them as well as the pos-
sessor. Every gardener and laborer on a noble-
man's estate may participate of the pleasure of
viewing his improvements, as well as the owner
himself. But, what are all the gorgeous toys and
trappings of art, or the beauties which genius can
tavent, or riches purchase, compared V7ith the
Vol. I.— 42

beauties and magnificence of Nature? What ar«
the glitterings of the most pompous procession,
or the splendor of a Vauxhall, in comparison of
the august spectacle of the vernal sun rising in
unclouded majesty, diffusing his beams over sur-
rounding worlds, gladdening the animal tribes,
and shedding a radiance on every object in our
terrestrial sphere! There is not a scene, though
finished with the most costly refinements of art,
comparable to the splendor and magnificence of
the sun rising in his glory. All on earth appears
a dreary waste until the aurora brightens up the
East, as the harbinger of the orb of day: — then
the plains are arrayed in verdure, the flowers put
forth their colors, the glittering spires appear, the
birds warble from spray to spray, and renewed
life, activity, and beauty, appear througliout our
lower creation — as if a new world had emerged
from chaotic darkness. What are the finest var-
nishings of art compared with the polishings of
the bodies of insects, or of sea-shells — or the most
exquisite pieces of machinery to the mechanism
of a plant, a gnat, or a microscopic animalcula?
Above all, what can be compared to the glories
of the unclouded firmament, where suns unnum-
bered shine, and myriads of mighty worlds run
their ample rounds? Yet all such august and
splendid scenes, with all the variety of beauty
and magnificence, with which the Almighty has
adorned his vast creation — which are open to the
contemplation of all are overlooked by the world-
ling as unworthy of his regard.

In short, the folly of covetousness appears in
its most striking light, in preferring objects which
are seen and temporal to those which are unseen and
eternal. We can scarcely have an adequate idea
of the extreme folly implied in such conduct, un-
less we could form some adequate conception of
what is included in the word Eternal. To enable
us to form some faint conception on this point,
some of our old writers have suggested the follow-
ing illustration: Suppose the whole earth to be
made up of particles of sand, and suppose a bird
to come every thousand years to pick up and fly
away with one grain, how immense must be the
duration before the whole sands which compose
the earth, could, by this slow process, be removed!
as many thousands of years as there are particles
of sand in the whole globe of the earth, — which
would amount to the following number of years,
30, 000, 000, 000, 000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,
or thirty thousand septillions of years! Yet this
immense period of duration is still but as a point,
or a moment, when compared with eternity! Ou
such a supposition, the Schoolmen stated the fol-
lowing question. " Suppose that you had it in
your choice to be happy all the while this prodi-
gious mass of sand was consuming, by this slow
method, until there was not a grain of it left, on
condition you were to be miserable forever after; —
or, supposing you might be happy forever after,
on condition you would be miserable, until the
whole mass of sand were removed or annihilated,
at the rate of one grain of sand in a thousand
years — which of these two cases would you make
your choice?" It must be confessed, that, at first
view, considering the extreme length of the pe-
riod— which, to our limited view, appears like an
eternity itself — we should be apt to choose the
former in preference to the latter, But our rea-
son tells us, that the latter ought to be our choice,
since there is no comparison between the one
duration and the other, any more than there is
between a unit, and the greatest number of
figures or sums we can possibly suppose. What,
then, must be the extreme folly of those who for

88

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

tiio sake of enjoying a few fleeting baubles, for
20, 30, or 40 years, or at the utmost, for " tliree-
Bcore years and ten," will run tlie risk of expe-
riencing all that is included in the idea of a mise-
rable eternity'. How can we sufficiently denounce
the stupidity and madness of those who, resolutely
and determinately, make so absurd and irrational
a choice? especially, when we consider, that even
in this life, the path of contentment, and the ways
of wisdom and holiness, are ways of pleasantness
and peace! To prefer trifles to the most momen-
tous objects, shadows to realities, the toys of time
to the treasures of eternity — if anything may be
termed folly and madness — such conduct ought
to brand every one who is guilty of it, in what-
ever sphere he moves, with the appellation of a
fool or a maniac.

If, then, riches are only valuable in proportion
to their use — if they cannot afford solid satisfac-
tion to the mind — if the objects which the world-
ling pursues are not to be compared in point of
grandeur to those which are within the reach of
all — and if he prefers shadows to realities, and
fleeting objects to eternal enjoyments — it must be
folly in the extreme for a rational being to have
. his affections placed upon them as the ultimate
object of his pursuit.

4. Consider in what light the objects of covetous-
ness will be viewed, and ichat comfort they will
afford at the approach of death.

When your soul, which has long been im-
mersed in the cares of the world, feels itself hover-
ing on the verge of life, and about to take its
flight into the world unknown.

In that dread moment, when the frantic sonl
Eaves round the walls of its clay tenement,
Runs to each avenue, and shrieks for help.
But shrieks in vain —

m what a very different light will you view the
perishing treasures of time from that in which
you now behold them? You now trust in uncer-
tain riches, and refuse to place your confidence
in the living God, who alone is the source of
felicity. But, " will riches profit you in the day
of wrath," or amidst the agonies of dissolving
nature? Will they smooth your dying pillow, or
assuage the bitter anguish of your spirit, when
heart and flesh begin to faint and fail? Will they
then be viewed as a sufficient compensation for
the dismal forebodings of future woe which may
then assail your conscience, and render you a
terror to yourself and to all around you? Alas!
they will only tend to plant thorns on your dying
couch, to sharpen every pang, and to augment
the horrors of despair. Conscience, now lulled
asleep amidst earthly vanities, may then awake,
•' like a giant refreshed with wine," and pierce
your hearts through with unutterable sorrows.
Many striking instances of this kind have been
witnessed by the ministers of religion, when
called upon to attend the death-bed of the worldly
and profane. "Had I now a thousand worlds,"
said a certain worldling, who bore a fair character,
" Had I a thousand worlds, I would give them all
for one year more, that I might present to God
one 5-ear of such devotion and good works as I
never before so much as intended." The noble
Altamont,* who had spent his life in all the
fashionable dissipations of the world, a little before
his death, on hearing the clock strike, exclaimed
with vehemence, "0 Time! Time! it is fit thou
Bhouldst thus strike thy murderer to the heart.
How art thou now fled forever! A month! 0
for a single week! I ask not for years — though

• Supposed to h6 Lord Euston. — Ysing's "Centaur not
&balou$ "

an age were too little for tho much I have to do.'
And a little afterward, "This body is all weak-
ness and pain, but my soul, as if strung U(), by
torment, to greater strength and spirit, is lull jiow-
erl'ul to reason, full niigiity to suffer." Caruinal
Wolsey, whose grand a'ni through life was worluly '
aggrandizement, a little before he uied, ueclared
\\ ith anguish, in the miJst of his disgrace, ' Had
I but served God as diligently as I have served tha
king, he would not have given me over in my
gray hairs." In like manner, many a one at the
liour of dissolution will have to exclaim, '• If I
had been as anxious to attend to the eternal inte-
rests of my immortal spirit, as to lay up treasures
which I can never use, I would not have been left
to suffer the pangs of reinorse which I now feel."

Such considerations demand the most serious
attention of those who have grown old in the
habits of covetousness, and whose gray hairs and
infirmities warn them that they are on the confines
of the grave. It has been remarked, that, as in
winter, the roots of plants retain the sap, when
the branches have lost their leaves and verdure,
so, in old age, the winter of life, covetousness,
"the root of all evil," retains its vigor, when
other vices have withered, and fallen into decay.
It is strange, indeed, but not more strange than
true, that the nearer such men approach to tho
earth, they become more earthly-minded, so that,
at the evening of life, they appear as if they were
providing for a long and prosperous day. No one
is more fearful of want, and more hard and gri-
ping, than the old miser, who is just about to
step into the grave. While other vicious propen-
sities are weakened by the lapse of time, covet-
ousness derives new life and vigor, as age in-
creases. Like a patient in the dropsy, whose
thirst is inflamed by drinking, the desires of the
covetous are augmented by increasing riches, and
they are never more tainted with earthly affec-
tions, than when their bodies are about to be re-
duced to their original dust.

The difficulty of subduing such a woeful properi'
sity, especially in the decline of life, is great, and,
in most cases, insurmountable. It is like tearing
the skin from the flesh, or the flesh from the bones.
There are not, perhaps, twenty out of a thousand,
on whom the most cogent or alarming arguments
will have the least effect in awakening them to con-
sideration, or turning them from their covetous-
ness. The vicious principle they indulge is so
subtile, that you cannot lay hold of it, so as to
render it tangible. It is so deeply seated, that
you cannot draw it from its hiding place to make
it visible in the face of day. You may convince
a man who goes on in a regular course of licen-
tiousness and intemperance, of the folly and
wickedness of his conduct, by showing him the
inevitable miseries to which it leads even in the
present life. But we have no such hold on the
covetous. In reply to every argument, he will
tell you, that what we call covetousness, is only
a necessary prudence to augment his estate, and
secure it from danger, to provide for the wants
of his family, and leave something to his children,
when he is gone; and that persons of great repute
for probity and wisdom, are found prosecuting a
similar course. He is unwilling to be convinced
of his sin and danger, and is like a person dying
of a mortal disease, who yet perceives not the
malignity of the malady which is hurrying him
to his grave.

But the difficulty of curing such a distemper,
though great, is not insurmountable. While
there is life, there i« hope. Let such as entertain
the leEist suspicions, that all is not right with

CONSIDERATIONS

iiem as to this matter, seriously examine their
learts on this point, and weigh tho considera-
■ions which have already been adduced. Above
ill things, look up to God, who alone can heal
your disease, and purify your affections, and say
unto him, in th* language of the Psalmist, "Search
mc, 0 God, and know my heart; try me, and
know my thoughts, and see if there be any wicked
Way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting."
Remember that your happiness through eternity
is at stake; and give not sleep to your eyes, nor
slumber to your eyelids, until you have fled for re-
fuge to the hope set before you in the gospel —
until you have renounced your idolatrous affec-
tions, and consecrated your heart to God. Your
feet are already " stumbling on the dark moun-
tains," and, ere you are aware, you may fall, at
the next step, into irretrievable ruin. And if you
depart from this world, under the dominion of
covetous aifections, you are rendered unfit for the
mansions of the just, and the happiness which
will be their portion forever and ever.

5. Consider, in the last place, that your covet-
ous affections, if obstinately indulged, will neces-
earilij (xclude you from the kingdom of heaven, and
involve you in eternal perdition.

This has already been illustrated in various
points of view (see pp. 33-51).

It ift the unalterable decree of the Most High,
as recorded in his word, that "the covetous shall
not inherit the kingdom of God;" and, that those
who are banished from this kingdom and its ho-
nors, " shall be punished with everlasting destruc-
tion from the presence of the Lord, and from the
glory of his power." In the face of such awful
declarations, to continue in the lust of covetous-
aess, grasping incessantly after riches as the high-
est object of desire, is the greatest folly and mad-
ness of which man can be guilty.

For what a poor compensation will men run
the risk of such terrible and appalling conse-
quences! Our Saviour tells us, that it would
profit a man nothing, " should he gain the lohole
world, and lose his own soul." But how often does
it happen, that men forfeit their eternal happiness
for the merest trifle, and set their immortal souls
to sale for a thing of naught? One will sell his
soul merely to gratify his lust, or his revenge;
another will rather go in the broad way to hell,
than to be out of the fashion of the gay world. —
That officer in the army, who lords over his infe-
riors, in all the pomp of his brief authority, what
does he sell his soul for? " For the false glory of
swearing expertly, and uniting blasphemy with
politeness." That perjured wretch, who bears
false witness against his neighbor, or robs him of
his property, by fraud or deceit — what price does
he put upon his soul? A few guineas, perhaps, or
a house, or a few acres of land. Few men ask a
throne, a kingdom, a province, or even a barony,
but will hazard the loss of their immortal spirits,
for the most paltry compensation that this wretch-
ed world can afford. " Be astonished, 0 ye hea-
vens, at this, and be ye horribly afraid."

O, my deluded brethren, arouse yourselves to
consideration; and let not the incumbrance of
this world's wealth sink you down to the lowest
hell. Listen to the dictates of reason, to the voice
of conscience, and to the word of God. Consider
the terrible reflections you will make upon your-
selves, and the deep and inexpressible anguish and
regret you will feel at the madness of your choice,
should you fall into perdition. Your loss will then
be found not only vast beyond comprehension, but
absolutely irreparable. You will curse those false
and flattering pleasures, and covetous lusts, whicn

FOR CHRISTIANS.

89

have cheated you out of eternal life, and rendered
you vessels of wrath fitted for destruction, — and
would be glad to part with a thousand worlds,
were it in your power, for the opportunity of
making a new, and abetter choice; but in that
prison of despair, no price will ever be accepted
for your redemption.

Could I describe to you the geography of that
dismal region, where hope never enters, and over
which hangs the blackness of darkness forever;
could I paint the gnawings of " the worm that
never dies," and the sharpness of "the fire which
is never quenched;" the raging anguish, the fear-
ful despair, the want of the least pity or com-
miseration; "the insolent scorn and cruelty of
wicked associates;" " the weeping and wailing,
and gnashing of teeth," which form only a por-
tion of future misery; how would the folly of
your conduct startle, and confound you, in haz-
arding such an awful, and interminable retribu-
tion, for the short-lived enjoyment of trifles light
as air! Let such considerations sink deep into
the heart of every worldling, and, without a mo-
ment's delay, let him take refuge from "the wrath
to come," by taking himself to " the hope set be-
fore him," and by consecrating to the service of
God all his riches and treasures, all his powers
and affections. To all the deceitful promises and
prospects, which the world and the flesh may set
before you, oppose those emphatic and momen-
tous words of Him who is Lord of the visible and
invisible worlds, — "What is a man profited, if he
shall gain the whole world, and lose his own
soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for
his soul?"

III. Considerations addressed to Christians, on
whom God has bestowed wealth and influence.

To you, my beloved brethren, who " know tho
truth as it is in Jesus," and who feel an ardent
desire for its universal propagation, I would offer
a few considerations and motives, " to stir up
your pure minds, by way of remembrance."

In the first place, I would have you consider,
that a/ar greater proportion of your substance than
has ever yet been thought of by Christians in gene-
ral, should be devoted to the service of God, and
the promotion of the best interests of your fellow-
men.

God is the original proprietor of your estates;
from Him you derived them; and if, by the exer-
tion of your own powers and activities, you have
acquired the wealth you possess, you are aware,
that the faculties which enabled you to acquire
riches, were gifts bestowed upon you by his boun-
ty, tad that the train of circumstances which led
to your success, was the result of the arrangements
of his Providence. You might have been born a
changeling, destitute of both bodily and mental
energies; you might have been placed in other
ciroumstances, which would have prevented your
acquisition of wealth, and doomed you to perpetual
poverty; or you might have commenced your ex-
istence in the center of New Holland, or the
wilds of Patagonia, where you could never havo
experienced the blessings and privileges you now
enjoy. Over all such circumstances you had no
control; and, therefore, you are indebted to God
for all these arrangements of his providence, which
have placed you in the midst of your present com-
forts. It is (lOi) who " hath given you power to
get wealth;" for, "both riches and honor come
from Him." These are truths which the world
in general, and which even Christians themselves
too frequently overlook.

You are, therefore, bound by every rational and
scriptural tie, to consecrate the wealth and influ-

90

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

ence you possess to his honor and glory He
does not cull upon you to part vvitli anything
which is necessary to your rational and sensitive
enjoyment. For the exuberant bounty of Jiis
providence is such, that there is abundance pro-
vided, in the system of nature, for supplying the
wants of all his creatures, ratioual and irrational,
when their desires are confined within the bounds
which reason and nature prescribe. But, he has
judged proper to demand a portion of the wealth
of voluntary agents, to accomplish his benevolent
and gracious purposes in the world; and, it is a
high honor conferred on man, that he is invited
to be "a worker together with God," in promo-
ting the regeneration of tlie world.

You are not, therefore, to imagine that the
wealth j'ou have acquired, is exclusively your
own, and that you may do with it as you please.
You are bound, as a Christian, by the most sacred
ties, to devote all that is not essential to your ra-
tional comfort, in the situation in which you are
placed, to such purposes as I have stated in a pre-
ceding chapter.* And, if you entertain a lively
sense of God's providential goodness toward you,
and of your obligation to Him, who hath redeem-
ed your souls from destruction, and crowned you
with spiritual and heavenly blessings; you will re-
sign to his service without a murmur, nay, with
the utmost cheerfulness, a large portion of those
treasures which his bounty has bestowed.

But, to come to particulars: — I shall suppose
you have an income of £800 a year. What
would you think of devoting £300 annually, ex-
clusively for the purposes to which I have alluded?
You will, perhaps, think it is bearing too hard
upon you, to make such a demand. But, can
you deny, that with the remaining £500 you can
enjoy all the sensitive pleasures which a Christian,
or any rational man ought to desire. You would
perhaps require to part with some luxury in dress,
food, clothing, or equipage, which is not essential
to human happiness; but, are no small sacrifices
to be made for the general good of mankind, and
to testify your love to the Redeemer? What, if
you were called upon by God, as the Apostles
were, to forsake friends, and houses, and lands,
for Christ's sake, and to travel into foreign coun-
tries, depending every day for supply on the pro-
vidence of God? What, if you were required, as
was once done, in the case of a certain rich indi-
vidual, to " sell all that you have and give to the
poor," as an evidence of the sincerity of your
Christian profession? or what if you were re-
quired to submit to persecutions and torments,
like the first Christians, or to tlee to deserts, and
rocks, and mountains, like the pious and persecuted
Waldenses? Would you consider such sacrifices
too great for the sake of your Redeemer, and for
the certain prospect of an eternal weight of glo-
ry? If not, how small a sacrifice is that noi^ de-
manded, compared with the privations and suffer-
ings of those illustrious characters of whom the
world was not worthy, " who wandered about in
sheep skins, and goat skins, in deserts, in moun-
tains, in dens and caves of the earth, being desti-
tute, afflicted, tormented?" What would those
Christian heroes have thought, had God thought
proper to grant them the tenth part of your in-
come? How would they have exulted in the Di-
vine Beneficence? and, like Mr. Park, when he
received a mess of pottage from an old negro
woman in the wilds of Africa — would have ex-
claimed, " Thou hast prepared a table for us in
the wilderness, in the presence of our enemies;

• See Chapter VI, thronghont.

our cup runneth over; surely goodness and mercy
shall follow us all the days of our lives, and wo
shall dwell in the house of tlie Loid forever."

To the proposal now made, you will perhaps
object, that the station of life in which you have
hitherto moved, requires you to spend nearly all
your income, that you cannot think of being sin-
gular, or altogether out of tlie fashion; that you
must forego sumptuous entertainments, and might
be considered by your genteel friends and ac-
quaintances, as mean and niggardly; that you be-
hooved sometimes to walk, when you might ride
in a carriage; that you would be obliged to occu-
py a house with seven apartments, instead of ten;
to deny yourself the luxury of a fine painting, or
an elegant piece of furniture, or a sumptuous
dress, similar to those of your compeers; that you
must provide portions for your children, when
you are gone; along with many similar excuses
which might be brought forward. But, on the
slightest reflections, you will perceive that these
are not Christian considerations, but arguments
based on selfish principles and worldly views. To
bring forward such excuses, is virtually to declare,
that you consider the pomp and fashion of this
passing world as more important than promo-
ting the glory of Messiah's kingdom; that you
would rather behold missionary enterprises frus-
trated, and the heathen perishing by millions,
than part with the luxury of a gig, or a landau;
that you would rather see the poor starving and
dying of want, as they are now doing in a
neighboring island,* than not enjoy with your
gay friends your accustomed splendid entertain-
ments; that you would see the industrious laborer
without employment, and living in wretchedness,
rather than abstract from luxury, a small sum for
the melioration of human beings, and the im-
provement of society; that you would behold an-
other generation rising up in ignorance and vice,
rather than part with an expensive and unneces-
sary piece of furniture, in order to assist in laying
the foundation of universal instruction; or, that
you would rather see the earth overspread with
deserts, and its inhabitants living in the most
wretched hovels, than resign two or three apart-
ments not necessary to your comfort, for assisting
in the renovation of the world.

This is the plain English of all such selfish and
fashionable excuses; and I am sure that no Chris-
tian, who has his heart deeply impressed with a
sense of Divine things, and of his obligations to
God, will consider them as valid.

With regard to laying up portions for children,
I have already offered some remarks, which need
not be repeated.

As a follower of Christ, you are called " to take
up the cross," and submit to some sacrifices for
his sake. The Christian life is a warfare against
the world, and the flesh, and " spiritual wicked-
ness in high places; " and, therefore, you must lay
your account to strive against many of the pas-
sions and propensities of your nature, — to coun-
teract, in some cases, your own taste and worldly
feelings, and even to be '' accounted," as the Apos-
tles were, "fools for Christ's sake." But O, my
Christian friend I how small a sacrifice is it to re-
sign enjoyments which are little more than ideal,
while every comfort essential to human happi-
ness, is still retained! The consideration of th«
happiness you may thus be the means of diffus-
ing in various directions, ought to be far more
than a compensation for the slight sacrifice (if it

» Ireland— see " Report of the Comaaissioners," &q., aad

B'ryendiz.

CONSIDERATIONS FOR CHRISTIANS.

91

may be so called) of a portion of your pecuniary
treasures. The effect, too, which your conduct,
in this respect, may have to excite hundreds of
your fellow Christians to follow your example,
and the influence it may have, even on future
generations, should be a powerful motive to con-
strain you to " devise liberal things," in reference
to the cause of God and religion, that you may be
entitled to the highest rewards given to those
who improve the talents committed to their trust,
"Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou
into the joy of thy Lord."

In the above remarks, I have supposed a Chris-
tian to be possessed of an annual income of £800.
Were he possessed of an income of £2000 or
JE3000, I have no hesitation in saying, that he
ought to devote at least the one half to the pro-
motion of the great objects of religion and gene-
ral philanthropy, and that one whose income is
€200 or under, not descending below £50 or
£60, should devote at least the one-tenth of it to
the same purpose. Tliis proportion is no more
than what was imperatively demanded by govern-
ment, as a compulsory tax on all such incomes,
during the late war; and the same sum is now
requested on a voluntary principle, for a higher
and nobler object.

Let Christians seriously consider, as in the pre-
Bence of God, and as indebted to him for the hope
and prospects of eternal life, whether they dare or
ought to refuse it. As to all lower incomes than
those alluded to, a certain proportion ought like-
wise to be allotted for the same objects, except in
the case of absolute poverty. Perhaps a twen-
tieth, or a thirtieth at least, is the lowest rate or
proportion which should in any case, be allotted
to the service of God.

2. Consider, that allthe pecuniary efforts you can
possibly make are essentially requisite for the enlight-
ening and regeneration of society, and that your
farsimony may be the means of retarding the uni-
versal promulgation of the gospel.

J have already shown, in chapter VI, the vast
extent of the enterprise to be undertaken, and of
the work to be accomplished, and the immense
sums requisite for carrying them forward; from
which it will appear, that all the liberality which
every Christian can display, is absolutely neces-
sary, in order to promote the renovation of the
physical and moral world, and to diffuse the
knowledge of divine trutii among the nations.
Almost all the departments of the social state re-
quire to be remodeled — universal education, on a
broad and universal basis, requires to be establish-
ed in every land — the poor require to be furnished
with employment, instruction, and comfortable
habitations — "the face of tiie earth" requires to
be " renewed," and the deserts, marshes, and bar-
ren wastes, transformed into fertile fields, and
luxuriant vegetation — the 600 millions which
people heathen nations, require to be instructed
in the knowledge of the true God, and of Jesus
Christ whom he hath sent — the " isles afar off
must be visited, and vast continents explored, that
their inhabitants may be visited with the day-
spring from on high and the knowledge of salva-
tion." The gospel must be published to all na-
tions, and the way prepared for the triumphant
reign of Messiah over all kindreds and people.
Every valley must be exalted, and every moun-
tain and hill must be leveled, to prepare a high-
way for the approach of Him " to whom is given
dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that all
people, nations, and languages, should ser\'e Hirn"
—''whose dominion is an. everlasting dominion,
and his kingdom that which shall not be destroy-

ed." All thesd extensive and important objects
require to be accomplished by the combined ef-
forts of the citizens of Zion, in connection with
the movements of Divine Providence and the ope-
rations of the Divine Spirit, and an imperious call
is addressed to every one to engage in this holy
enterprise. Say not ye, therefore, as the ancient
Jews, " The time is not come, the time that the
Lord's house should be built." " For, thus saith
the Lord of hosts, consider your ways, go up to
the mountain, and bring store, and build this
house, and I will take pleasure in it, and I will
be glorified, saith Jehovah. Be strong, all ye peo-
ple of the land, and work, for I am with you,
saith the Lord of hosts. For thus saith the Lord,
it is a little while, and I will shake the heavens
and the earth, and the sea, and the dry land.
And I will shake all nations, and the desire of all
nations shall come, and I will fill this house with
glory, saith the Lord of hosts. The silver is mine,
and the gold is mine, saith the Lord of hosts. I
will overthrow the throne of kingdoms, and I
will destroy the strength of the kingdoms of the
heathen, and I will give peace, saith the Lord of
hosts."

Now, therefore, my brethren, listen to the ad-
monition: " Thus saith the Lord of hosts, con-
sider YOUR WAYS;" consider whether yoa have
yet done all that is in your power, to accom-
plish the purposes of tlie Most High. Con-
sider whether your indifference and parsimony
have not prevented the preparations requisite
for rearing the spiritual temple of Jehovah. And
if you are convinced, that, were you weighed in
the balance, you would be found wanting, it ia
now time to make up your deficiency, and to
awake to spiritual activity, and to holy enter-
prises. Will you allow the love of the world to
prevent the extension of the gospel, and to retard
the approach of the millennial era, and the full
glory of Messiah's reign? Yet this ye do, if ye
do not come forward, with cheerfulness, to devote
all the treasures you can possibly spare, to pre-
pare the way for the proclamation among all peo-
ple of " the salvation of our God." What a sad
reflection is it, should conscience arouse us, that
we have been guilty of standing as obstructions to
the progress and prosperity of the Redeemer's
kingdom? It is not unlikely that a reflection of
this kind may occasionally damp the joys of in-
dividuals, even in the celestial mansions. We are
told of some who shall be saved, "yet so as by
fire," implying, that, though they shall be re-
scued from perdition, yet a mark of disapproba-
tion will be set upon certain parts of their conduct,
which will prevent them from receiving the higher
rewards of t}]% heavenly state But every Chris-
tian should so act as to render himself worthy of
the highest approbation of his Lord and master,
and of the higher seats in the mansions of bliss.
Those to whom God has given abundant treasures,
have the best opportunities of thus distinguishing
themselves; and we know, moreover, that "to
whom much is given," from them " much will
be required." Let it never then be surmised of
you, that your conduct appears as if you set a
higher value on the pomp and fashion of the
world, in laying up treasures on earth, in provid-
ing portions for your children, or in living in
luxurious abundance, than in hastening the arri-
val of the millennium, or in aiming at the highest
honors of the celestial kingdom. Let the pro-
mises of your God and Redeemer, the pleasure of
beholding the gradual progress of the world's re-
generation, and the glorious prospects presented
to your faith, animate and encourage you to coma

92

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

fortli as a Christian heio in the cause of universal
benevolence; and ulthough you should be sneered
at by the men of the world, " great shall be your
reward," in thit kingdom where tiiey who have
been instruineulal in turning many to righteous-
ness, "shall shine as the brightness of the firma-
ment, and as the stars forever and ever." *

3. Consi ier the import of the words of your
Redeeiuer, " It is more blessed (or happy) to gioe
than to receive.'"

Tlie disposition to communicate happiness to
fellow-intelligences, is one of the cliaracteristic
traits of the true Christian, by which he is dis-
tiuguisliel from the selfish and avaricious soul,
and from the world that lieth in wickedness. It
is tlie source of all natural and moral good, the
spring of all public and private happiness, and
the only real excellence of moral and intelligent
beings. A disposition to receive happiness from
others, but never to be instrumental in imparting
it, would create a vast blank tlirougliout the uni-
verse ; and its countless tribes of inhabitants
would remain forever destitute of enjoyment.
Creation might present a scene of beauty and
fertility to the eye, but the affection of moral
beincrs would be cold and chill as the frosts of
winter, aijd their hearts would never thrill with
joy amidst surrounding associates. But from the
voluntary and benevolent agency of intelligent
beings, beginning at the great first cause of all
enjoyment, and descending through every subor-
dinate rank of intellectual existence, flows all that
happiness which is enjoyed, either in earth or
heaven, by every rank of moral agents, whether
men or angels, cherubim or seraphim. This is
the plain import of the maxim of our Saviour:
" It is more happy to give than to receive,"
namely, that the communication of good ought
to be the great object of every Christian, and that
it is more desirable and honorable to impart enjoy-
ment to others than to receive it from them.

I cannot conceive a source of greater happiness

* It is nol a little unaccountable, on Christian principles,
that so many wealthy professors of religion leave the world,
without bequeathing any portion of tlieir suhstance for reli-
gious and philanthropic purposes. An aged gentleman, a
professor of religion, who had for many years attended a
respectable dissenting place of worship, died a few weeks
ago, leaving money and property to the amount of £20,000.
But, although he was unmarried, and had no children, nor
brothers nor sisters, not a single pound of it was devoted to
the public, charitable, or religious objects — while the one
half of this sura might have been appropriated to such ob-
jects, without the least injury to surviving relatives, most
of whom stood in no need of it. About a month ago, a
lady informed me, that a gentleman in one of our populous
cities had died worth £3011,000. I replied, in the words of
the late J. B. Wilson, Esq., " He has died wickedly rich."
She was startled at the reply, and said " that he was a
respectable character, and had acquired his wealth in an
honorable wav." 1 asked, how much of it he had left for
the purposes of religion anil philanthropy? She replied,
" that she had heard of nothing being left for such purposes,
but he had, no doubt, given during his life, something for
charitable objects; and that it was very proper and dutiful
for a man to provide for his family, that they may move in
their proper station; for we are told, that he who provideth
not for his household, hath denied the faith, and is worse
than an infidel," &c. I replied, such a man ought to have
left at least, £50,000, for rational and religious purposes,
■without in the least injuring his family, in whatever station
they were brought up, and 1 conld not but entertain a very
Jow opinion of that man's Christianity, who could accu-
mulate so iiinch wealth, and leave none of il to promote the
cause of religion and the best interesfs of mankind. But
my worthy female friend could not be persuaded bul I hat a
man might lav.-fuily do with his own as he pleased, and thai
his family were entitled to the v-Jhole of what he possessed.
This is a fallacy which ought to he removed from the minds
of professed religionists, as it implies a virtual denial of our
dependence upon God, and of our obligations to consecrate
onr wealth and talents to the accompli itiraent of his benevo-
lent designs.

on earth, than that which would flow to a Chrlk
tian, whom God hath blessed with abundance of
wealth, in distributing at least the one-half of his
substance, in works of piety and beneficence.
He might soon behold, everywhere around him,
the young trained up in knowledge and virtue,
the gospel preached to the poor and to every
class, the ignoiant instructed, the industrious la-
borer supplied with employment, the atllicted
relieved, the wants of the destitute supjilied,
schools, churches, and commodious dwelliuga
with garden plots, rising on every side; the de-
sert cultivated, and the wilderness made to bud
and blossom as the ro.se. Such a character would
be as eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame, and
would cause the widow's heart to leap for joy.
Wherever he appeared misery would smile, and
his presence would be hailed with gratitude and
joy. How many improvements of this descrip-
tion might be effected, and how much happiness
diffused, by judiciously distributing in every dis-
trict five thousand, or even one tliousand pounds
annually, on such objects ? But where is the
man or the Christian to be found vvlio pants for
such celestial enjoyment?

In the exercise of this disposition we become
imitators of God, and are assimilated to his cha-
racter. When he brought creation into existence,
he could have no possible view, in launching in-
numerable worlds into the depths of space, but
to display the glories of his nature, and to
confer benefits on their inhabitants. Could we
wing our flight through the regions of immen-
sity, and survey the various ranks of the population
of the universe — could we mingle with tlie hosts
of angels aud archangels, and witness their enjoy-
mentsj we should find that all the arrangements
of the Almighty, in reference to their situation
and activities, have a tendency to contribute to
their felicity — that his benevolence is displayed
wherever m:itter exists, and wherever there are
sentient and intellectual beings to participate of
his bounty. He is not adored by the heavenly
host, or by any of his creatures, " as if he needed
anything" to augment his glory, " seeing he
giveth to all, life and breath, and all things."
He is declared in Scripture to be " abundant in
goodness," "good to all," continually "doing
good,"and that "his tender mercies are overall hia
works." Now, we are commanded to be imita-
tors of God in his universal beneficence. "Be ye
merciful, as your Father in heaven is merciful;
love your enemies, and do good to them that hate
you; that ye may be the children of your Father
who is in heaven; for he maketh his sun to rise
on the evil and on the good, and sendcth rain on
the just, and on the unjust." By acting in this
character, we are likewise imitators of the blessed
Redeemer, " who went about doing good" to all
classes of men, without distinction of rank or
nation. Though he was "the brightness of the
Father's glory," yet, " for our sakes he became
poor, and took upon him the form of a servant."
His whole life was an uninterrupted series of be-
neficent actions. He had compassion on the
ignorant and the distressed; he fed the hungry
multitudes in a desert; he opened the eyes of the
blind, unstopped the ears of the deaf, made the
lame man to leap as a hart, and the tongue of
the dumb to sing. He restored to disconsolate
parents the children whom death had snatched
from their embrace; he healed all manner of sick-
ness and disease among the people, and none ever
applied to him for relief, who was refused assist-
ance or spurned from his presence. And now
that " he has entered into heaven to appear in the

CONSIDERATIONS FOR CHRISTIANS

93

presence of God for us," he is engaged in similar
benevolent services. For, we are told, that " the
Lamb in the midst of the throne feeds" the re-
deemed inhabitants, " and leads them to living
fountains of water, and wipes away tears from
every eye." We are, therefore, exhorted to " be
followers of Christ as dear children, and to walk
in love; for he hath set us an example that we
should walk in his steps."

Again, in the exercise of the disposition to
communicate happiness, we imitate the anyclic
tribes, who are incessantly engaged in similar ser-
vices. Those glorious beings not only contribute
to the liappiness of each other, but rejoice to
wing their downward flight to comniuiiicate
messages of mercy to mankind. Although they
dwell amidst the splendors of eternal day, they
refuse not to descend for a season to our wretched
world. They entered the lowly cot of the Virgin
Mary, with a message of joy; they flew swiftly
to Daniel, to explain his vision ; they unbarred
the prison gates to rescue Peter from his enemies;
they comforted Paul with the assurance cd" divine
protection, while tossing on the raging billows;
and, in numerous ways with which we are unac-
quainted, " they encamp around those who fear
the Lord," and are " ministering spirits to the
heirs of salvation." In short, heaven, whither
wo profess to be journeying, is a scene of pure
benelicence. In that happy world, the spirits of i
the just will spend an immensity of duration, in
an endless diffusion of benefits among countless
orders of holy intelligences; and while, they de-
rive enjoyment from blessings conferred by kind-
red spirits, thej' will still find, that " it is 7mre
blessed to give than to receive." For in so doing,
we most nearly resemble the original source of
felicity, who is " the blessed and only potentate,"
supreme in happiness, yet incessantly diffusing
benefits among unnumbered beings, throughout
the whole extent of his universal empire.

Were such dispositions to be generally preva-
lent among men, what a happy world should we
look upon compared with that which we now
behold ! Were it universally prevalent, into
what a glorious scene would society be trans-
formed! Heaven would descend to earth, and an
image would be presented of the intercourses and
the joys of the blessed above. And, what should
hinder such a disposition from being universally
displayed, but the selfishness and depravity of
man? Why may not our world be filled with
intelligent beings, devoted to such noble and god-
like aims, as well as with tribes of selfish demons?
There is no physical impossibility to prevent such
a blessed transformation. But the will of man
stands as a barrier; he perceives not in what his
true happiness consists; " he loves darkness rather
than light," and misery more than happiness, and
will not bend his ears to the instructions of hea-
venly wisdom. No man, hov/ever, ought to
assume the name of a Christian in whom this
benevolent and god-like disposition does not exist.
Were Christianity universally diff'used, and its
holy principles recognized as the basis of human
action, we should, ere long, behold such displays
of beneficence in all the regions of the globe, and
among every kindred and tribe and people; and
the sighs of the disconsolate, the groans of the
oppressed, and the shouts of the warrior would
be heard no more.

Let me beseech you, then, my Christian breth-
ren, to cultivate this benignant principle, and
show to the world that you are actuated by higher
aims than the sons of avarice, and that you are
of one heart and affection with the angels of

liglit. To do good, and to communicate, forget
not, for with such sacrifices, God is well pleased.
And, if you are thus disposed, you will coiiie for-
ward, with cheerfulness, in every work of uni-
versal philanthropy, and will not grudge any of
the small sacrifices we have now proposed. You
will thus be instrumental in augmenting the sum
of happiness on earth, and prepared for engaging
in the benevolent employments of the inhabitants
of heaven.

4. Consider the jleeting nature of eartldy enjoy-
ments, and how soon you may be called to part
with everything you now possess.

You may be disposed, at first view, to think it
hard to part with a hundred or two hundred
pounds for the good of others, while you do not
know how much you may require for yourself
and family, at some future period. But you
ought to recollect, that we should be directed by
what appears to be present duty, without looking
forward to mere j)Ossibililies, or contingencies
which may never happen, and should trust ia
God, as to all the future arrangements of our lot
in this world. While we perplex ourselves with
anxieties about futurity, that futurity, in relatioa
to the present scene, may never arrive. In such
an hour as we think not, the messenger of death
may make his appearance to summon us to the
world of spirits. So numerous are instances of
this description, and so frequently reported in our
daily records of intelligence, that no one can,
witli any show of reason, flatter himself that ho
shall certainly live to enjoy a long succession of
months or years. And, should the grim messen-
ger arrive at a tiftie when you have been with-
holding your wealth from benevolent objects, and
laying it up for future use, how many painful
reflections may arise to imbitter your comforts
and shako your hopes, on the eve of your depar-
ture— nay, to produce painful feelings, if that be
possible, even on your entrance to the world of
bliss.* When you have the immediate prospect
of bidding a last adieu to all earthly riches and
grandeur, they will appear of a very difTerent
value from that by which they are now estimated.
At th^t period, you will look upon them in the
light in which a great man in a neighboring coun-
try viewed some extraordinary mark of distinc-
tion and honor sent him as he lay on his death-
bed. "Alas! (said he, looking coldly upon it)
this is a mighty fine thing here in this country,
but I am fast bound for a country where it will bo
of no service to me." Reflect, then, my Christian
friend, on the views you will have of riches, at
the hour of death, and let this consideration excite
you, while in the vigor 0/ health, " to devise liberal
things," in regard to the furtherance of every phi-
lanthropic object, so that no bitter regrets may
disturb your last moments, and that "an abun-

* It is not altogether improbal)le, that certain painfb]
feelings or reflections, may occasionally raise in the mind,
even in heaven itself. We have no reason to believe, that
it is such a stale of absolute perfection, at least on our first
entrance to it, as entirely to pievent some transient nneasy
reflections. The saints will carry with them into that state
all their recollections in reference to their dlsjMsitions and
conduct in the present world, and, therefore, it is not un-
likely, that the sins they committed in this life, and particu.
krly, the little zeal they displayed in promolinp the interests
of the Redeemer's kingdom, after they were brought to the
knowledge of the truth — may occasionally produce an un-
pleasant feeling in the midst of all their joys. This idea
seems to be included in the representation given in the pa-
rable respecting the degrees of honor to which persons will
be advanced in proportion to their zeal and activity in the
cause of God, while upon earth. But all such uneasy re-
flections, should they arise, will only tend to lead the sonl
to higher admiration of the boundless and nameiited lov«
of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

94

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

dant entrance may be ministered to you into the

evtrlasting kingdom of your Lord and Saviour.'^
5. ConsiJer the promises and declarations of God
in reference to the certainty of temporal support.
There is scarcely anything that causes so much
anxious thought and perplexity to mankind in
general, as the consideration — how they are to
acquire the means of subsistence? and, on this
account, they have always an argument at hau 1,
against distributing their money for public and
religious objects. But there is nothing more clear
and express than the promises made to the Chris-
tian in reference to his temporal support, so that
while he is diligent in his business and conducts
his atfairs with prudence and discretion, he need
never harass his mind v/itli anxious thoughts
about future subsistence. The following are a
selection of those divine declarations on which
his faith and hope may confidently rely, as the
words of Him who is immutable, and who keepeth
covenant and mercy to a thousand generations.

" The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof.
Every beast of the forest is mine, and tlie cattle
on a thousand hills. Honor the Lord with thy sub-
stance, and with the first fruits of all tiiiue in-
erease; so shall thy barns be filed with plenty,
and thy presses shall burst out with new wine.
Better is a little with the fear of the Lord than
great riches and trouble therewith. A little that
a righteous man hath is better than the riches of
many wicked. I have been young (says the
Psalmist), and now am old, yet have I not seen
the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging
bread. The liberal soul shall be made fat, and he that
watereth shall be uiatered also himself. Thy bread
shall be given thee, ani thy water shall be sure.
Take no anxious thought (says our Saviour) for
your life, what ye shall eat or what ye shall
drink, nor yet for your body what ye shall put on.
Behold the fowls of the air, for they sow not,
neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, yet
your heavenly father feedeth them. Are ye not
much better than they? And why take ye thought
for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field how
they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin
And yet I say unto yon that even Solomoa in all
his glory was not arrayed like one of these
Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the
field, which to-daj'- is, and to-morrow is cast into
the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O
ye of little faith? The time is sliort, — it remain-
eth that they who weep be as tlioagh they wept
not; and they that rejoice as though they rejoiced
not; and they that buy as though th^y possessed
not; and they that use this world as not abusing
it; for the fasiiiou of this world passeth away. He
who soioeth sparingly shall reap also sparingly;
and he who sowsth bountifully shall reap also boun-
tifully; for God looeth a cheerful giver. And God
is able to make all grace abouad toward you, that
ye always, having all sufficiency in all thino;^,
may abound to every good work. Be careful for
nothing, but in everything, by prayer and sup-
plication with thanksgiving, let your requests be,
made known to God. I have learned (says Paul)
in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be con-
tent. I know both how to be abased, and I kno-.v
how to abound; everywhere, and in all things I
am instructed both to be full and to be hungry,
both to abound and to suffer need. But I have
all and abound, and my God shall supply all your
need, according to his riches in glory by Christ
Jesus. Godliness with contentment is great gain;
for we brought nothing into this world, and it is
certain we can carry nothing out; and having
food and raiment, let us therewith be content

Charge them that are rich in this world that they
be not high-minded, nor trust in uncertain riches;
but in the living God who giveth us all things
richly to enjoy — that they do good, that they be
rich in good works, ready to distribute, willing to
communicate, laying up in store for themselves a
good foundation against the time to come." The
ancient worthies " took joyfully the spoiling of
tht-ir goods, knowing in themselves that they had
in heaven a better and more enduring substance."
Moses " esteemed the reproach of Christ greater
riches than all the treasures of Egypt." " Let
your conversation be without covelousness, and
be content with such things as ye have; for he
hath said, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.
Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of
God, casting all your care upon him, for he careth
for you. A good man showeth favor and lendeth;
he will guide his affairs with discretion. He hath
dispersed, he hath given to the poor; his righteous-
ness endureth forever. Surely he shall not be
moved forever. The righteous shall be in ever-
lasting remembrance."

Such Divine declarations as the above should
have a powerful influence on the mind of every
Christian, in reconciling him to his situation in
life, and to the measure of wealth which Provi-
dence has allotted him; and, inspiring him with a
noble liberality in the distribution of his riches,
without fear of consequences. For God has
pledged himself in these promises and declara-
tions, that they who trust in Him, and conduct
their affairs with discretioUj shall want for nothing
that is truly desirable in their pilgrimage through
this world. "The young lions may lack and
suffer hunger; but they that seek the L,ord shall
not want any good thing." All the saints, in
every age, have in some measure experienced the
truth of these declarations, and, in many remark-
able instances, they h^e been strikingly fulfilled,
in .cases where all prospects of sub^istciice had
disappeared, and all hopes of deliverance had
nearly failed; as might have been illustrated by
many interesting facts recorded in the history of
the church, and of individual Christians, had our
limits permitted.

I shall conclude with the following sentiments, —
and an anecdote stated by Dr. Witherspoon.

There are those who are rich in their poverty,
because they are content, and use generously
what they have; there are those, who, in the
midst of their riches, are really poor, from their
insatiable covetousness, or profusion. — Calmet.

The prayer which Socrates taught his pupil
Alcibiades, is remarkable, and deserves the con-
sideration even of a Christian: — "That he should
beseech the Supreme God, to give him what was
good for him, though he should not ask it; and to
withhold from him whatever would be hurtful,
though he should be so foolish as to praj' for it."

The following piece of private history that hap-
pMied in Great Britain, is related by the late Dr.
Witherspoon, in one of his sermons.

" A gentleman of very considerable fortune, but
a stranger to either personal or family religion,
one evening, took a solitary walk through a part
of his own grounds. He happened to come near
to a mean hut, where a poor man with a numer-
ous family lived, who earned their broad by daily
labor. He heard a voice pretty loud and continued.
Not knowing what it was, curiosity prompted him
to listen. The man, who was piously disposed,
happened to be at prayer with his family. So
soon as he could distinguish the words, he heard
him giving thanks with great affection to God, for
the goodness of his providence in giving thera

APPENDIX.

95

food to eat, and raiment to put on, and in supply-
ing them with what waa necessary and comfort-
able in the present life. He was immediately
struck with astonishment and confusion, and said
to himself, * does this poor man, who has nothing
but the meanest fare, and that purchased by se-
vere labor, give thanks to God for bis goodness to

himself and family, and I, who enjoy ease, and
honor, and everything that is grateful and desira-
ble, have hardly ever bent my knee, or made any
acknowledgment to my Maker and Preserver?' It
pleased God, that this providential occurrence
proved the means of bringing him to a real and
lasting sense of God and religion."

APPENDIX.

The following statements, extracted from the
" Report of the Commissioners," who were sent
to Ireland to investigate the state of the lower
classes in that country, exhibit a picture of the
effects of covetousness, combined with its usual
accompaniment — apathy in regard to the suffer-
ings of others, which would disgrace a Pagan
land, and much more a Christian land.

These commissioners appear to have conducted
their inquiries openly and fairly. They held their
sittings in upward of one hundred parishes. —
They were sent through the whole of the four
provinces of Ireland, and obtained information
from all ranks and classes, from " the highest
landlord, down to the lowest beggar."

The details stated below, are only specimens of
hundreds of similar details, equally horrible and
revolting, which are scattered throughout a quarto
volume of between four and five hundred pages.
The answers to the questions put, taken viva voce,
are printed verbatim, under the following seven
heads. 1. Deserted and orphan children. 2. Ille-
gitimate cliildren and their mothers. 3. Widows
with families of young children. 4. Impotent
through age and infirmity. 5. Sick, poor. 6.
Able-bodied out of work. 7. Vagrants.

1. The following extracts relate to widows with
children.

They are seldom half fed, say a cloud of wit-
nesses. One meal of potatoes a day, is the most
they can expect, eked out with unwholesome
weeds. Mr. Cotter, rector of a parish in the
county of Cork, says, " One evening a parcel of
workmen came to me for soup, which I was in
the habit of giving. Some cabbage stumps that
were thrown out of the kitchen were lying near.
The pigs and fowls had picked them almost quite
bare. / saw myself six or seven of the poor women
turn their faces to the wall, and eat the stumps the
pigs had left. Peggy Kiernan, a beggar woman,
says, the widows get, when at work for the farmers,
\^/^d. per day. They rarely beg in public, unless
when their children are so young they cannot
leave them."

The Assistant Commissioners found widow Hal-
lorem working a quilt. She worked eight hours a
day, and it would take her a week to finish it,
and all she had bargained for, was one shilling. —
A man who happened to be standing by, said he
would not give two pence a day, for what any
widow in the parish would earn by her labor. Pa-
rochial assistance is unknown, and the question,
whether the absentee proprietors who hold nearly
the entire parish, ever contribute to the relief of

those who pay them rent, — was answered with a
laugh, that expressed astonishment at the thought of
such a thing being entertained.

When the cholera appeared at Cork, a small
hospital was established, and a few patients ad-
mitted into it. Notwithstanding the dread that
was entertained for the disease, three poor widows
feigned sickness, in order to gain admission; one
the widow Buck, had two children. When these
women were detected, they refused to go out. In
the county of Limerick, there had been no widow
driven by her necessities to prostitution, though
one of these virtuous poor women states, that she
lives in a hovel without a roof. " I have no house,"
says she, " but I got a few poles, and made a nar-
row shed, by placing them against the wall and co-
vering them with loose weeds. The end is open
to the air, and there is no door." She expects, with
her boy, to pass the winter under the same shed.

Even in the north of Ireland, where Protes-
tants chiefly reside, similar privations are found
to prevail. The following is a picture of a Lori'
donderry widow.

The Assistant Commissioners visited one widow.
She lived in a wretched hovel on the road-side,
about half a mile from Dungiven. There was a
little straw in a corner, which, covered with a thin
linen quilt, served as a bed. Over two or three
kindled turf, a girl of about ten years of age, was
bending, and a middle-aged woman was sitting,
spinning in the center of the hut. She said that
the girl was the youngest of eight children, and
was only a month old, when, by her husband's
death, she was left wholly dependent on her own
exertions. None of the children were at that
time able to assist her; and the only emplojTuent
open to her was spinning, by which she could
then make Ad. a day. By her spinning, which
was gradually diminished to 'Hd. a day, she brought
up her eight children, sending them out to service
as they grew up. They are now married, or en-
gaged in service. The three eldest married when
they were under eighteen. "They never," smd
she, "got a noggin of broth in charity; nor did
a handful of potatoes badly got, ever enter my
house. I always kept the roof over them, and
prevented their begging." She never had any
land ; her landlord Juiving taken from her, that which
her husband held; bat he left her the house, half
of which was bhwn down, ^d in the remain-
ing half, she still lived. She seemed cheerful and
contented, but said, she had gone through unut-
terable hardships. "Many a time," said she, "a
neighbor woman that lived willi me, did not

96

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

know that I had only eaten two or three potatoes
tliat day, and, at night, I used to be up two or
three times, when I could not sleep, thinking of
my misfortunes, and looking out for the daylight
to begin working."

Widow M'Crow, another inhabitant of the
north, stated, "The rain comes in through the
roof of my hut. I sleep on tlie ground, which
is constantly wet, and have not so much straw as
would fill a hat. I have but a single fold of a
blanket to cover my whole family. I have had
it for eight years. My children are naked. I
have a lump on my shoulder, for which I cannot
get medical assistance." It was agreed by all
present, that few widows can be bette^ than this
woman.

The gentry, says the Report, scarcely ever assist
the poor widows, but the laborers will often work
a day for them gratis in building a hovel. Some
of these widows have too much pride to beg, and
pine in hopeless misery, in some wretched cabin.
In the single parish of Killaloe, in the cou"iity of
Clare, the R. C. Priest speaks oi sixty widows in
this destitute state.

"I had not," says Mary Slattery, "a sod of
turf to warm a drink for my sick child. All I
had to-day, was four cold potatoes. The rain
comes down through the roof, and my lodger
never slept a wink last night, trying how to keep
tlie bed-clothes dry. As God knows my heart, I
Bpent the night on the hearth-stone, crying and
praying that God would look down on me and my
cliildren."

As to laying by anything when in employment,
that is out of the question. "No man," says Mr.
Donaugh, "could lay up anything for his old age,
unless he have an old lease. In other cases, tliere
is no chance of it."

The effect of this wretched life, and diet, is too
apparent, and cuts off the sufferers before the
usual period of human life. Laborers usually
break down at the age of fifty-five, from the ef-
fects of scanty food, and exposure to the weather.
The same is reported of mechanics. If there is
a bridge to be built, there will not be a man above
fifty-five upon it. Poverty bends their spirits and
breaks them down. It appears from the evidence,
that the custom of supporting their parents, which
used to be the pride of the Irish peasants, is de-
caying fast, from the pressure of the times, and
incapacity. Laborers supporting their parents,
are often reduced to one meal of dry potatoes. It
sometimes comes to counting the potatoes. Then,
as the second family grows large, the daughter-in-
law begins to grumble. She will not see her
children starved to feed her husband's parents. —
"Being always at home, she is apt to find her
husband's father in the way, and you will see the
old man cowering in the chimney, as if he were
endeavoring to hide himself from her." An old
man says himself, " the few potatoes I eat, sir,
cannot do me good, for I am afraid they are
grudged me, and what is more, I grudge them to
myself, when I see so many mouths opening for
them." One witness states, that " the turning
out of the father is so common, that the contrary
is the exception."

The Rev. Mr. Gibson mentions the following
case. " The wife and family of a man who had
been respectable, died here of want, a short time
since. They could not get anything to eat at
times, more than once in two days. They died
rather than beg.'''' Such cases, alas! are by no
means scarce. Mr. Riley says, " two months ago,
I saw an old woman eighty years of age, going

over the bridge to beg her breakfast. When sht
got to the top, she stopped to rest herself, and
when I came up to her, she was dead." Dr.
Walsh, M. D., states, " that in his parish in Kil-
dare, many have died of actual starvation."

Yet, in a country where such scenes are daily
passing, all the great land owners are averse to the
introduction of poor laws, and for this most self-
ish reason, that the principal burden of support-
ing the poor, would [as it ought], fall upon them-
selves. It is curious to remark, that the farmers
and shop-keepers, in a word, the middle and pro-
ducing classes of the Irish community, approve
of some system of poor laws, \«iiile the gentry as
decidedly set their face against any such system.—
" The gentry never give to beggars,''^ says one of
the witnesses, "high walls surround their de-
mesnes, and a dog is kept at the gates to prevent the
entrance of a beggar. Absentees, even in times of
dearth, or infectious disease, 'send over no sub-
scriptions." " They send over nothing but lati-
tats and ejectments," savs the Rev. Mr. Burke. —
The evidence of Dr. M'Hale, R. C. Archbishop of
Tuam, written by himself, is remarkable on this
point. " The gentry," says the Archbishop,
" scarcely ever subscribe regularly for their sup-
port: even in the seasons of appalling distress
(18.']2 and '34), there were individuals of large
fortunes, who did not subscribe one shilling. The
burden is thrown by the affluent gentry on their
poorer neighbors; orders are often issued by the
proprietors of large mansions, not to suffer such a
nuisance as a beggar, to approach the gates. I
could name the persons. The general opinion is
favorable to a provision for the poor, in case the
burden do not fall on those classes that are al-
ready taxed for their support. It is in vain to
make a provision for the poor, unless the property
of the absentee, and the church lauds are almost
exclusively fixed with the amount; otherwise,
such a provision would be no relief. AH that
could be gained by taxing the industrious classes^
would be to make that compulsory which is now
voluntary. If the properties of the absentees are
taxed, and the church lands be re-appropriated to
their original destination, a large fund, now lying
idle, will be applied to the support of the people."

In the examinations in the county of Longford,

Mr. K said, he represented the feelings of

a great number, when he expressed himself "in
favor of a support for the infirm, especially from
a tax on absentees, one of whom draws £10,000
per annum, from the county, and £3000 from the
parish, without contributing anything to the support
of the poor."

2. Under the head of "sick poor" we find that
no relief exists for the poor, when sick or dis-
eased.

If the disease be contagious, they are either put
out of the cabin into a temporary hut, or the rest
of the family leave it and them. Any nourish-
ment the neighbors may give them is left at the
door, and the creatures crawl out to take it in.
Many have been disabled for life, by scrambling
out of bed to get what is left for them at the door
" The day before yesterday," says a witness, " a
woman coming from Galway, was taken ill on the
road. The people thought she had the cholera,
and refused to let her into their houses. She lay
by the side of a ditch and died in the morning."
" Our diseases," says Mr. Powell, " are caused by
cold, hunger, and nakedness. The poor man on
regaining his appetite, finds nothing to eat. A
little food would restore him, but he sinks for the
want of it. People are constantly tapped for a

APPENDIX.

97

dropsy arising from starvation." " I liave fre-
quently," says Dr. Walsh, "found the sick lying
on the bare damp ground, straiv being considered a
luxury which the pig onhj, which pays the rent, has
a right to enjoy." In some places, there are cha-
ritable loan I'luuls; "but," says a witness, "the
gentry and landlords seldom subscribe."

When we go to beg at a gentleman's house,
Bays Pat Mitchell, bcggarman, it is the wife that
a.sks relief, and tlie answer frequently is, "go from
the door, woman." The farmers are kinulier by
far. It is the humble sort that live on the road-
side, that are really good to us; but half the coun-
try, God help them! have no Cliristianity in them at
all." Molamey says, that, in the mountains of
this parish, when the potatoes fail them, they
bleed the cattle, and eat the boiled blood, some-
times mi.xed with meal, but oftener without it; he
has himself known the same beast to have been hied
three times in one season; they never bleed their cat-
tle for this purpose, ivhen they can procure any
other food; he says, " the mere laborers would
not get a potatoe on credit; they would gladly
take credit on any terms, if they could get it; they
would promise anything before they would beg,
which some are obliged to do, and to leave their
own place in shame. They take one journey by
night before they begin, that they may save the
exposure."

The assistant commissioners entered into the
cabin of a woman laboring under the disease of
water in the chest. She said, "I have not this
morning been able to rise from that bed of straw.
I felt a sort of gnawing about my heart. The
only thing I had was these lew potatoes (pointing
to some on the ground between her and a little
girl, who had the small-pox), you see (hey are rot-
ton the most of them, and all are wet." " Yet
these very people," says a respectable newspaper
editor, "thus abandoned by wretches — fiends in
human shape, who call themselves landlords, — ex-
hibit some of the finest feelings that ever adorned
the human heart." When one has a tolerable
coat, he lends it to a neighbor, that he may carry
something to the market, and look decent. The
Rev. Mr. Gibbon says, " when I go to a village to
hold a station, one man comes to me, and con-
fesses, and when he has done, goes out and lends
his coat to a neighbor, that he may come in
also; the very women do the same, and lend not
only their cloak but their gown."

Mary Carr, who is a widow, and who is rearing
up a foundling, says, " the blanket that was on
my bed, I cut up to make two little petticoats for
the child. / do not know what kitchen means. I
am not able to buy a ha'porth of milk in the fort-
night, and have not tasted a herring these three
months." This woman, says Mr. G. Gotting-
ham, is a fair specimen of the widows of the
parish.

In transcribing the above revolting statements,
I have been almost led to feel ashamed of tlie order
of intelligent beings to which I belong. It can-
not but fill every feeling and well-principled mind
with a holy indignation, that such scenes should be
found to exist in a country that boasts of its reli-
gion, and requires so much money for its support.
The facts are not the exaggerations of any political
party; as they were publicly and minutely investi-
gated, and are admitted by all parties to be sub-
Btantially correct. They are corroborated by the
Btalements of the late Mr. Inglis, in his " Jour-
ney throughout Ireland in 1834," and, by all
others who have lately visited that misgoverned,
and unhappy country. At this very moment,

hundreds of poor starving wretches have been
ejected by their rich landlords, from the half acres
and miserable hovels they occupied, in the midst
of the most inclement season of the year, to
wander through the country, houseless and for-
lorn, and to perish of hunger and cold. One of
the unfeeling miscreants, who acted as factor to
some of the landlords, when remonstrated with on
the dismal and destitute situation of the poor peo-
j)le, who were deprived of every shelter, and of
every means of subsistence, had the fiendish ef-
frontery to declare, that " they might go and eaT
ONE ANOTHER, if they pleased."

Even the "Quarterly Review," which is not gen
erally very squeamish on such subjects, exhibits
a becoming indignation at this picture. " The
wonder surely is (says a writer in No. 109), not
that men become monsters under such circum-
stances; that they make war upon the world, and
the world's law which neglects and oppresses
them; that being left to the destitution of the sa-
vage the J' exhibit his disposition, adopt his system
of self-preservation, and disregard the first prin-
ciples of society. No! the wonder is, that philo-
sophers are found audacious enough to maintain
that sufferings, such as we have related, should
remain unrelieved, in order to keep up the chari-
table sympathies of the people for each other,
uncoutaminated by the odious interference of a
legal provision for the destitute." And again,
" the social virtues are stifled in an atmosphere
of such misery and selfishness, for the instinct
of self-preservation overpowers every other feel«
ing."

Perhaps there are few instances of covetous-
ness more palpable and odious, than are displayed
in reference to the facts that have been now
stated. It is a striking feature connected with
these facts — that, while thousands of poor crea-
tures are living in roofless huts, with nothing bu*
a cold damp floor to lie upon, and not even
enough of a few rotten potatoes for their food, —
the nobility, gentry, and rich landlords, seldom cox-
tribute in the least, to relieve their misery, while
none are more loud in their bawlings about reli-
gion, and the support of the church. It is a most
unhappy and unnatural state of society, that
when thousands are reveling in the midst of lux-
urjr and debauchery, there should be tens of thou-
sands immediately around them, suffering every
privation, and many of them absolutely perishing
for want in the midst of plenty and splendor. —
That such scenes should be dailj' realized in a
country blessed with fertility, and a fine climate;
in a country where so much wealth is lavished in
folly and extravagance, and vrhere so many enor-
mous pensions and sinecures are enjoyed, both
from the church and the state, cannot but fill
every generous mind with swelling indignation.
Here is surely a fine opportunity for wealthy gen-
tlemen of benevolent feelings, to come forward
and display their generosity. What might hinder
them from purchasing some of the iTish moors,
and mosses, and wastes, and setting thousands of
the laboring poor to bring them into a state of
cultivation, and to rear for themselves comforta-
ble habitations? The blessing of thousands ready
to perish would rest upon them, and their own
hearts would feel a satisfaction superior to all the
pleasures derived from pomp and pageantry, and
riotous abundance.

What becomes of all that wealth which han
been bestowed on the Bishops, Deans, and many
of the Rectors of the Episcopal church; the one
half of which would go a great way toward me-

98

ESSAY ON COVETOUSNESS.

liorating the condition of the lower class of the
population of Ireland? When the lands and other
emoluments were first allotted to the bishops, it
was, on the provision, that the one-half, or at least
the one-third of the proceeds should be devoted to
the poor. This appears to be admitted by the be-
nevolent Archbishop of Tuam, in his evidence
stated above. " If the church lands," says the
Archbishop, " be reappropriated to the original des-
tination, a large fund would be supplied to the

support of the people." And would net the one
half, of incomes amounting to eight, ten, fifteen, or
twenty thousand pounds annually, be quite suffi-
cient for any order of ministers belonging to the
Christian church? That such an appropriation
has never yet been voluntarily made, even when
the most urgent demand for it existed — seems t(i
indicate that there is a glaring want of Christian
principle and benevolence, even among the minia-
i ters of the Christian church.

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PUBLISHERS,

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most American editions.

From the Western CJiristian Advocate.

The work is too well known, and has too long been a favorite to require any com-
mendation from us. Though in some matters more recent investigations have led to
conclusions different from those of the Author, yet his general accuracy is unques-
tionable.

From the Methodist Protestant, Baltimore,

This work is too well known as standard — as necessary to the completion of every
gentleman's library — that any extended notice of it would be folly on our part. We
have named it for the purpose of calling the attention of our readers to the beautiful
edition issued by the enterprising house of Messrs. Applegate & Co. Those who
have seen their edition ox Dick's Works, Plutarch's Lives, Spectator, &c., &c., may
form a correct idea of the style. We call it a beautiful library edition. The paper
is good, the type clear, the binding substantial, and the whole getting up just such
as becomes standard works of this class.

APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.

MOSHEIM'S CHURCH HISTOSY,

Ancient and Modern, from the birth of Christ to the Eighteenth Century, in
which the Rise, Progress, and Variations of Church Power are considered in thoir
connection with the state of Learning and Philosophy ; and the Political History of
Europe during that period, continued up to the present time, by Charles Coote,
LL. D. 806 pages, 1 vol., quarto, spring back, marbled edge.

Fro7n. the Gospel Herald.
This edition forms the most splendid volume of Church History ever issued from
the American press; is printed with largo type, on elegant paper, and altogether
forms the most accessible and imposing history of the Church that is before the
public. The former editions of Moshcim have ever been objectionable in conse-
quence of the amount of matter crowded into a single page. To do this, very small
type were necessarily used, and the lines were so crowded, that the close and con-
tinued perusal of the work was very injurious to the eyes. This edition avoids all
these evils, and we most heartily recommend it.

From the Masonic Review.
This great standard history of the Church from the birth of Christ, has just been
issued in a new dress by the extensive publishing house of Applegate & Co. Nothing
need be said by us in relation to the merits or reliability of Mosheim's History : it
has long borne the approving seal of the Protestant world. It has become a standard
work, and no public or private library is complete without it; nor can an individual
be well posted in the history of the Christian Church for eighteen hundred years,
without having carefully studied Moshcim. We wish, however, particularly to
recommend the present edition. The pages are in largo double columns; the type is
large and very distinct, and the printing is admirable, on fine white paper. It is
really a pleasure to read such print, and we recommend our friends to purchase this
edition of this indispensable work.

From the Telescope, Dayton, O.

This work has been placed upon our table by the gentlemanly and enterprising
publishers, and we are glad of an opportunity to introduce so beautiful an edition of
this standard Church history to our readers. The work is printed on beautiful white
paper, clear large type, and is bound in one handsome voluire. No man ever sat
down to read Mosheim in so pleasing a dress. What a treat is such an edition to
one who has been studying this elegant work in small close print of other editions.
Any one who has not an ecclesiastical history should secure a copy of this edition.

It is not necessary for us to say anything in relation to the merits of Mosheim's
Church History. For judgment, taste, candor, moderation, simplicity, learning,
accuracy, order, and comprehensiveness, it is unequaled. The author spared no
pains to examine the original authors and " genuine sources of sacred history," and
to scrutinize all the facts presented by the light of tlie " pure lamps of antiquity."

From Professor Wrighison.
Whatever book has a tendency to add to our knowledge of God, or the character
or conduct of his true worshipers, or that points out the errors and mistakes of for-
mer generations, must have an elevating, expanding, and purifying influence on the
human mind. Fully as important, however, is it that all the facts and phases of
events should be exhibited with truthfulness, perspicuity, and vigor. To the Chris-
tian world, next to the golden Bible itself, in value, is an accurate, ftvithful, and life-
like delineation of the rise and progress, the development and decline of the Christian
Church in all its varieties of sects and denominations, their tenets, doctrines, man-
ners, customs, and government. Such a work is Mosheim's Ecclesiastical History.
Like " Ilollin's History of the Ancients," it is the standard, and is too well known
to need a word of comment.

APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.

GATHEEED TREASUEES FROM THE MINES OF LITERATURE.

Containing Tales, Sketches, Anecdotes, and Gems of Thought, Literary, Moral,
Pleasing and Instructive. Illustrated with steel plates. 1 vol. octavo. Embossed.

To furnish a volume of miscellaneous literature both pleasing and instructive, has
been the object of the editor in compiling this work, as well as to supply, to some
extent, at least, the place that is now occupied by publications which few will deny
are of a questionable moral tendency.

It has been the intention to make this volume a suitable traveling and fireside com-
panion, profitably engaging the leisure moments of the former, and adding an addi-
tional charm to the cheerful glow of the latter ; to blend amusement with instruction,
pleasure with profit, and to present an extensive garden of vigorous and useful plants,
and beautiful and fragrant flowers, among which, perchance, there may be a few of
inferior worth, though none of utter inutility. While it is not exclusively a religious
work, yet it contains no article that may not be read by the most devoted Christian.

From the Intelligencer,
This may emphatically be termed a reading age. Knowledge is increasing in a
wonderful ratio. The night of ignorance is fast receding, and the dawn of a better
and brighter day is before the world. The demand for literature is almost universal.
The people will read and investigate for themselves. How important, then, to place
within their reach such books that will instruct the mind, cheer the heart, and im-
prove the understanding — ^books that are rich in the three grand departments of
human knowledge — literature, morals, and religion. Such a book is " Gathered
Treasures." We can cheerfully recommend it to all.

From the Cincinnati Daily Times.
This is certainly a book of rare merit, and well calculated for a rapid and general
circulation. Its contents present an extensive variety of subjects, and these not only
carefully but judiciously selected, and arranged in appropriate departments. Its con-
tents have been highly spoken of by men of distinguished literary acumen, both
editors and ministers of various Christian denominations. We cheerfully recom-
mend it.

'■rj

From the Cincinnati Temperance Organ.
A book of general merit, diversified, yet truly rich and valuable in its interests ;
thrilling in many of its incidents ; instructive in principle, and strictly moral in its
tendency. It is well calculated for a family book, one that a father need not be
afraid to place in the hands of his children. We hope it will meet with an exten-
sive sale.

Gathered Treasures from the Mines of Literature. — " One of the most
interesting everyday books ever published. Like the Spectator, it may be perused
again and again, and yet afford something to interest and amuse the reader. Its
varied and choice selections of whatever is beautiful or witty, startling or amusing,
can not fail to afford rich enjoyment to minds of every character, and a pleasant
relaxation from more severe and vigorous reading.'

Gathered Treasures. — " A choice collection of short and interesting articles,
eomprising selections from the ablest authors. Unlike voluminous works, its varied
selections affoi'd amusement for a leisure moment, or entertainment for a winter
evening. It is alike a companion for the railroad car, the library and parlor, and
never fails to interest its reader."

APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.

NOTES ON THE TWENTY-FIVE ARTICLES OF EELIGION,
As received and taught by Methodists in the United States,

In which the doctrines are carefully considered and sujiported by the testimony of
the Holy Scriptures. By Rev. A. A. Jimeson, M. D. 12uio, embossed cloth.

This book contains a clear exposition of the doctrines of the Articles, and of the
errors against which the Articles were directed, written in a popular style, and
divided into sections, for the purpose of presenting each doctrine and its opposite
error in the most prominent manner.

From Rev, John Miller.

It is a book for the Methodist and for the age — a religious multum in parvo

combining sound theology with practical religion. It should be found in every
Methodist family.

From the Western Cliristian Advocate. '
The author intended this volume for the benefit of the " three great divisions of
American Methodism, the Methodist Episcopal Church, the Methodist Protestant
Church, and the Methodist Episcojxil Churcli South." The articles are taken up one
by one, and their contents analyzed, explained, and defended with much ability.
The style is clear and forcible; the illustrations are just, the arguuients sound.
The author has performed a good and useful work for all the Methodist bodies in the
world; as his book will furnish a very satisfactory exposition of the leading doctrines
of Methodism. "We cordially recommend Mr. Jimeson's volume to the perusal of
our readers, as well as to all Christian people, whether ministers or laymen.

From the Cincinnati Daily Times.

We have looked carefully over this volume, and find it to be truly what it purports
to be. The arrangement of the various points is admirable, the style remarkably
easy and fluent, and the topics, as well as we can judge, are fully and ably treated,
and supported by copious Scriptural quotations. The author has certainly displayed
the qualities of a first rate writer, and the ability with which the subject is handled,
is no less apparent.

The publishers, let us add, have done their duty ; the paper, typography, and
binding, are equal to any we have seen from any quarter, in this class of books.

From Rev. B. T. Crouch.

Dr. Jimeson's work on the XXV Articles, is a decidedly good book ; it is a
valuable addition to our stock of sacred literature, and fills well a niche that was
vacant in the library of Methodist theology. ***** *

He has laid before the Church and the public, a book which will not shock any
man's nerves, or insult any man's taste, or endanger any man's orthodoxy, who pre-
fers Bible truth to human fiction.

Render, take no man's word for it; get the book and read for yourself; and our
humble judgment of the work, as here expressed, will suffer no loss by the conclu-
sions to which you will be conducted, j

From Zion's Herald, Boston.
This is a decidedly good book for general circulation. Mr. J. takes up each article
of religion, as contained in our Book cf Discipline, and gives a lucid statement, a
clear exposition, and a scriptural defense of the doctrine it contains. He docs not
shroud his suliject in mist, by many words, or by idle speculations; but brings it out
into the clear light of holy writ. The people should read it, and young men pre-
paring for the ministry may study it with profit.

APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.

PETEKSON'S FAIuILIAS SCIENCE;
Or, the Scientific Explanation of Common Things.

Edited by R. E. Peterson, Member of tbe Academy of Natural Sciences, Phila-
delphia. 18mo., neatly bound in cloth.

From the Masonic Rcvieic.
This is a work of rare merit. It furnishes an immense amount of valuable inform-
ation in relation to matters and things that are constantly presented to the mind, and
which are so common that they are overlooked. We have not seen a work in a long
time that we deem of so much value as the book before us. It should be in every
family, for more information can be gained from it, than from half the books afloat.
We most heartily commend it to the public.

From the Odd Fellows' Literary Gazette.

How often have we heard parents rebuke a child for asking what they term " silly
questions," when they were unable to answer their artless inquiries. The desire for
knowledge is ever leading children into asking questions, which, from their novelty,
are set down as foolish, when, in reality, they can be answered on scientific principles.
This little work is designed to explain many of these things ; it contains much useful
and practical scientific knowledge, in a very popular and entertaining form, suffi-
ciently plain to be understood by a child, and yet affording instruction to persons of
mature years.

It is divided into parrs, each part treating of a separate subject. A copious index
is added to the work, thus i-eadily enabling the reader to find any particular question
he may wish to solve. The work is arranged in the form of questions and answers,
with all the important words italicized, thus adapting it either to schools or the fire-
side. We regard this as a very valuable work, and most cordially recommend it to
all as the most complete scientific explanation of common things that we have ever
examined.

From the Parlor Magazine.
The above manual of science should be in the hands of every youth in the land —
for while it is scientific, it is yet so plain that any child may comprehend its simple
and useful lessons. It is by encouraging such popular books, that the Americans
have distinguished themselves in reducing to practice so many of the theories of
philosophy. The person who masters this Httle volume will be enabled to converse
with fluency on most scientific subjects, and thus escape the errors into which many
fall by knowing nothing of science and philosophy.

Fro7n Wm. S. Clavenger, Principal of Grammar School, Philadelphia.
The pages of " Familiar Science " are its best recommendation. The common
phenomena of life are treated of in a simple and intelligible manner, which renders it
both pleasing and instructive. In the family circle, as a text book, it will form the
basis of an hour's interesting conversation, and in the hands of the pupil, it will be
a valuable aid in the acquisition of useful knowledge.

From T. S. Arthur, Editor of the Home Gazette.
" Familiar Science, or the Scientific Explanation of Common Things," is one of
the most generally useful books that has lately been printed. This work, or a por-
tion of it, came first from the pen of the Rev. Dr. Brewer, of Trinity Hall, Cam-
bridge ; but, in the form it first appeared from the English press, it was not only
unsuited to the American pupil, but very deficient in arrangement. These defects,
the editor has sought to remedy. To give not only to the parent a ready means of
answering inquiries, but to provide a good book for schools, is the object of this
volume. About two thousand questions, on all subjects of general information, are
answered in language so plain that all may understand it.

APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.

METHODISM EXPLAINED AND DEFENDED.
By Rev. John S. Inskip. 12mo., embossed cloth.

From the Herald and Journal.
We have read this book with no ordinary interest, and, on the whole, rejoice in its
appearance for several reasons — First, It is a concise and powerful defense of every
essential feature of Methodism, now-a-days so much assailed by press and pulpit.
Second, The general plan and character of the work are such, that it will be read
and appreciated by the great masses of our people who are not familiar with more
extended and elaborate works. Third, It is highly conservative and practical in its
tendencies, and will eminently tend to create liberal views and mutual concession
between the ministry anc^aity for the good of the whole — a feature in our economy
never to be overlooked. 'Fourth, This work is not written to advocate some local or
neighborhood prejudice; neither to confute some particular heresy or assault; but its
views are peculiarly denominational and comprehensive, indicating the careful and
wide observation of the author — free from bigotry and narrow prejudice.

From the Springfield Republic.
We have read this new work of Rev. J. S. Inskip with great pleasure and profit.
It in very truth explains and defends Methodism, and, as the introduction (written
by another,) says, ''its pages cover nearly the whole field of controversy in regard to
the polity of the Methodist Church, and present a clear and candid exposition of
Methodism iij a clear and systematic form, and highly argumentative style. It is a
book for the times, and should be read by all who desire to become mere intimately
acquainted with the Methodist economy. It excels all other works of its class in the
arrangement and judicious treatment of its subject." It has evidently been written
with great prudence and care in reference to the facts and evidences on which the
arguments are predicated. This book will doubtless be of general service to the
Church, and an instrument of great good.

CHRISTIANITY,

As Exemplified in the Conduct of its Sincere Professors.

By Rev. W. Secker. This is a book of rare merit, full of thought-exciting
.topics, and is particularly valuable as an aid to Christian devotion. 12mo., embossed
cloth.

From the Madison Courier.
This is a reprint of a quaint old English book, entitled "The None-Such Pro-
fessor in his Jleridian Splendor.'^ It abounds in pithy sentences and suggestive
expressions, and should be read by such as wish to put a spur to thought.

From Rev. N. Summerbell.

This work can be best understood by presenting an outline of its contents :

Part First, answers why Christians should do more than others.

Part Second, considers what Christians do more than others.

Part Third, shows that the Scriptures require of Christians singular principles, or
to do more than others.

Part Fourth, imparts instruction to those who wish to do more than others.

This work is peculiarly free from sectarianism, and breathes out, in short but
balanced sentences, the most Heavenly devotion and Christian piety, while probing
the religious character with the most searching scrutiny.

APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATION'S.

SACRED LITERATURE OF THE LOAD'S PI AYER.

In which the terms arc defined, and the text carcfull^;) considered 12mo., cloth.

" This is a volume of rare excellence, written in the i uthor's usual style of great
beauty and elegance. It sparkles with gems of elevated thought, and abounds in the
most happy illustrations of the great philosophical bearings of the several petitions
of the Lord's Prayer on the general system of Revealed Religion, while their philos-
ophy is very forcibly applied to tlic various duties of practical Christianity.

" The introductory chapter is a learned and patient research into the real origin and
history of the use of this prayer, while the succeeding chapters can not fail both to
instruct the head and improve the heart. We have not read a more interesting book
for many years, and can most cordially recommend it to%very lover of chaste theo-
logical literature. It is a 12mo., gotten up in the best style of the art."

RELIGIOUS COURTSHIP;

Or, Marriage on Christian Principles.

By Daniel Defoe, Author of '^ Robinson Crusoe."

" Who has not read Robinson Crusoe ? It has fascinated every boy, and stimulated
his first taste for reading. Defoe has been equally happy in this present work, in
interesting those of riper years, at an age (Shakspeare's age of the lover) when the
mind is peculiarly susceptible of impressions. Although but few copies of this work
have ever been circulated in America, yet it has a popularity in England coextensive
with his unparalleled ' Crusoe.' "

From the Masonic Remeio,
Applegate & Co., have just issued, in their usual good style, a new edition of this
old and valuable work by Defoe. It treats of marriage on Christian principles, »and
is desiffned as a guide in the selection of a partner for life. Young persons should
by all means read it, and with particular attention, for it furnishes important direc-
tions relative to the most important act of life.

HERVEY'S MEDITATIONS

Among the Tombs, and Reflections on a Flower Garden, &c., together with the
Life of the Author. 3 vols, in one.

PILGRIM'S PROGRESS,

With Scott's Notes. 24mo., with 8 engravings.
Do. do. 12mo., cloth, 94 do.

APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.

/ FARMEH'S HAND-BOOK.

By JosiAH T. Marshall, author of " Emigrant's True Guide." 12mo., cloth,
500 pages.

The publishers are gratified that they arc enabled to satisfy the universal demand
for a volume which comprises a mass of superior material, derived from the most
authentic sources and protracted research.

The contents of the " Farmer's Hand-Book " can be accurately known and duly
estimated only by a recurrence to the Index of Subjects, which occupies ticcnti/-four
columns, comprising about fftcen hundred different points of information respecting
the management of a Farm, from the first purchase and clearing of the land, to all
its extensive details and departments. The necessary conveniences, the household
economy, the care of the animals, the preservation of domestic health, the cultivation
of fruits with the science and taste of the arborist, and the production of the most
advantageous articles for sale, are all displayed in a plain, instructive, and most
satisfactory manner, adapted peculiarly to the classes of citizens for whose use and
benefit the work is specially designed. Besides a general outhne of the Constitution,
with the Naturalization and Pre-emption Laws of the United States, there is
appended a Miscellany of 120 pages, including a rich variety of advice, hints, and
rules, the study and knowledge of which will unspeakably promote both the comfort
and welfare of all who adopt and practice them.

The publishers are assured that the commendations which the " Farmer's Hand-
book " has received, are fully merited j and they respectfully submit the work to
Agriculturists, in the full conviction that the Farmer or the Emigrant, in any part
of the country, will derive numberless blessings and improvements from his acsiuaint-
ance with Mr. Marshall's manual.

ELLEN, OE THE CHAINED MOTHEE,
And Pictnres of Kentucky Slavery, drawn from Real Life.
By Mary B. Harlan. 12mo., cloth ; illustrated on tinted paper.
This little volume is full of sympathetic scenes and touching narratives of wrongs
peculiar to American Slavery. It is written in a happy style and chaste language ;
Ls free from abusive epithets or unkind words, and will fascinate the reader. .

From the Middletown Herald.
We have seldom, if ever, read a book of this character with so much interest.
The style in which it is written is admirable. It is smooth, easy, unostentatious, and
natural. No one can read much of it without wanting to read all of it. The whole
end and aim seems to be to exhibit the practical workings of slavery, and we think
this has been successfully accomplished. Every page seems to impress you with its
truthfulness. It requires no "Key" to explain it, for written, as it is, in plain
Anglo-Saxon, it explains itself.

From the Western Christian Advocate.
This work is founded on facts and events in real life, and is given from personal
observation ; and this fact alone should give the authoress precedence over those who
stand at a distance, and write of things of which tliey know but little, except second-
hand information. It is written with a graphic pen, and more than ordinary facility
and power of description. It is worthy of general circulation.

APPLEGATE & So.'S PUBLICATIONS.

METHODIST FAMILY MANUAL. ^

B}^ Rev. C. S. LovKLL. 12mo., embossed cloth. Containing the Doctriues and
Moral Government of the Methodist Church, with Scripture proofs; accompanied
with appropriate questions, to which is added a systematic plan for studying the
Bible, rules for the government of a Christian family, and a brief catechism upon
experimental religion.

This work supplies a want which has long been felt among the members of the
Methodist Church. As a family manual, and aid to the means of grace and practical
duties of Christianity, it is certainly a valuable work. It also contains the Disci-
pline of the Church, with Scriptural proofs, and appropriate questions to each chap-
ter. It is certainly an excellent book for religious instruction and edification. We
most heartily commend it to the Methodist public, and hope it may have a wide
circulation and be made a blessing to all.

REMARKABLE ADVENTURES OF CELEBRATED PERSONS.

Large 12mo. gilt sides and back. Beautifully illustrated. Embracing the roman-
tic incidents and adventures in the lives of Sovereigns, Queens, Grenerals, Princes,
Travelers, Warriors, Voyagers, &c., &c., eminent in the history of Europe and
America

FAMILY TREASURY,

Of Western Literature, Science, and Art. Illustrated with Steel Plates. 8vo.,
cloth, gilt sides and back.

This work most happily blends valuable information and sound morality, with the
gratification of a literary and imaginative taste. Its pages abound in sketches of
history, illustrations of local interest, vivid portraitures of virtuous life, and occa-
sional disquisitions and reviews.

REVIEW OF UNCLE TOM'S CABIN;
Or, An Essay on Slavery.

By A. Woodward, M. D. 12mo., cloth. The Evils of Slavery and the
Remedy ; The Social, Civil, and Religious Condition of the Slaves, their Treatment,
&c.; African and Anglo-Saxon Characters contrasted; Emancipation, Results and
Consequences ; Relative Duties of Masters and Servants.

" This work, although a book for the South, is devoid of Southern ultraism, and
will be read with profit by many intelligent Northern readers."

APPLEGATE & CO.'? PUBLICATIONS.

/ TEMPERANCE MTTSICIAN.

A clioicG selection of original and selected Temperance Music, arranged for one,
two, three, or four voices, with an extensive variety of Fojmlar Temperance Songs.

82mo.

From the Summit, (O.,) Beacon.

This is a neat volume, well printeJ, and well bound, containing 256 pages. It is
the best collection of temperance songs and music we have seen. Were a few copies
secured in every town in Ohio, in the hands of the warm-hearted friends of the Maine
Law, an element of power and interest would be added to temperance meetings, and
a stronger impulse given to the onward march of the cold water army.

From the Temperance Chart.

This will certainly become one of the most popular temperance song books which
has been published in the country. AVe think it is, so far as we have examined, the
best collection of songs we have seen. Some of them are exceedingly beautiful and

aftecting.

From the Cleveland Commercial.

This is a popular Temperance Song Book, designed for the people, and should be
in every family. We can recommend it to the patronage of ail our temperance
friends, as the best temperance songster, with music attached, we have seen. The
music in this work is set according to Harrison's Numeral System, for two reasons :
First, because it is so simple and scientific that all the people can easily learn
it. Second, it is difficult to set music in a book of this size and shape, except in
numerals.

UNIVERSAL MUSICIAN.

By A. D. FiLL?.ioiiE, Author of Christian Psalmist, &c., containing all Systems
of Notation. New Edition, enlarged.

The title, "Universal Musician," is adopted because the work is designed for
everybody. The style of expression is in common plain English, so that it may be
adapted to the capacities of all, instead of simply pleasing the fancy of the few, who
are already thoroughly versed in science and literature.

Most of the music is written in Harrison's Numeral System of Notation, because
it is the most intelligible of all the different systems extant ; and is therefore bettor
adapted to the wants of community. Music would be far better understood and
appreciated by the people generally, if it were all written in this way. For it is
more easily written, occupies less space, is more quickly learned, more clearly under-
stood, is less liable to be forgotten, and will answer all common purposes better than
any other. But the world is full of music, written in various systems, and the
learner should acquire a knowledge of all the principal varieties of notation, so as to
be able to read all music. To afford this knowledge to all, is the object of the pres-
ent effort.

Poetry, which is calculated to please as well as instruct, has been carefully selected
from many volumes already published, and from original compositions furnished
expressly for this work. Much of the music is original, which is willingly submitted
to the ordeal of public opinion. Some of it certainly possesses some merit, if we
may judge from the avidity with which it is pilfered and offered to the public by
some, would-be, authors.

APPLEGATE & ?0.'S PUBLICATIONS.

Universalliad ; Or Confessions of Universalism. A Poem in twelve Cantos, to
wliich are added Lectures on Universalism, -wherein the system is explained,
and its chief arguments considered and refuted.

Salvation by Christ. By Rov. Wm. Sherlock .

^olian Lyrist. By Rev. Wm. B. Gillham, Pastor of First Cumberland Pres
byterian Church, Columbia^ Tenn. Figured Notes, 250 pages.

American Church Harp. A Choice Selection of Hymns and Tunes adapted to all
Christian Churclies, Singing Schools, and Private Families. By Rev. W.
RiiiNEliART. 12mo., half morocco.

The Camp Meeting^ and Sabbath School Chorister. By Aaron Cox.

Sacred Melodeon, A Collection of Revival Hymns. By Rev. R. M. Dalby.

A Biographical Sketch of Colonel Daniel Boone, the First Settler in Kentucky,

interspersed with incidents in the early annals of the country. By TIxMOTHY

Flint. 12mo., embossed cloth.

Life of Tecumseh, and of his Brother, the Prophet, with a Historical Sketch of

the Shawuee Indians. By B. DRAKE. 12mo., embossed cloth.
Life and Adventures of Black Hawk, with sketches of Keokuk, the Sac and Fox

Indians, and the Black Hawk War. By B. Drake. 12mo., embossed cloth.
Western Adventure. By M'Clung. Illustrated.

Lewis & Clarke's Journal to the Rocky Mountains. Illustrated. 12mo., sheep.
Life and Essays of Ben. Franklin. ISmo., cloth.
Medical Student in Europe, Or Notes on France, England, Italy, &c. Illustrated

with steel plates.
The Poor Man's Home, Or Rich Man's Palace; Or Gravel Wall Buildings.

This is one of the most desirable books published, for all who contemplate

erectino' dwellings or out-houses, as the cost is not over one third that of brick

or frame, and quite as durable. Illustrated with numerous plans and a cut of

the author's residence, with full directions, that every man may be his own

builder.
Lectures and Sermons. By Rev. F. G. Black, of the Cumberland Presbyterian

Church. 12mo., embossed cloth.
A New History of Texas, from the first European Settlements, in 1682, down to

the present time — including an account of the Mexican War, together with the

Treaty. Paper.
Map of the Western Rivers. By S. B. Munson. Being a map of the navigable

parts of the ■Missouri, Mississippi, Ohio, Illinois, Cumberland, and Wabash

Rivers, with a Table of Distances.
A New History of Oregon and California. By Lansford W. Hastings.

Paper.
Parley's America, Europe, Asia, Africa, Islands, Tales of the Sea, Greece, Rome,

Winter Evening Tales, Juvenile Tales, Bible Stories, Anecdotes, Sun, Moon

and Stars : new and revised editions.
Parley's Right is Might, Dick Boklhero, The Truth Finder, Philip Brusque,

Tales of Sea and Land, Tales of the Revolution.
Bradley's Housekeepers' Guide and Cook Book; Or a plain and economical Cook

Book, containing a great variety of new, valuable, and approved receipts.

12rao., cloth.
Lyons's English Grammar. A new Grammar of the English Language, familiarly

explained, and adapted to the use of Schools and Private Students. The work

is so arranged as to infallibly secure the attention, to awaken inquiry, and to

leave the most lasting impression upon the mind of the learner. 12mo., cloth.

Common School Primer. # rs i-N /-> ^ ^ ■

if069 001